Today I read accounts of people coming into their own, dreams taking root and gaining strength. Among mothers particularly, I notice a harshness towards themselves. A constant reprimand for letting things slide, often for years.
For writers, this holds true as we lament over half filled journals, or worse, blank pages.
The last year has allowed me great strides towards becoming the writer God designed me to be. I’ve spent time reviewing words written in years past. Something needs to be said here. It wasn’t good writing.
The intent was there, the ideas were promising, but the timing was off. We waste time thinking dreams were lost, ruined, forgotten.
What a tragic misuse of our life! I wasn’t slacking off and likely, neither were you. We were living.
Without the experience, what good are the words? Ideas without substance? Thoughts without errors to learn from? How clearly it is becoming to me, and I hope to you, that our life’s timing isn’t off, it is perfect!
We are busy experiencing. Loving, raising up, letting go. It all is material. Here is the difference of aging…the “material” we didn’t know we were storing up is nearing harvest time. It has been seasoned by perspective. That is not time wasted, but an inimitable gift.
This is the time for me. Maybe for you? If not now, be patient. Embrace the details of your life, whether that includes demanding little toddlers, aging parents, a stressful career, financial difficulties.
Commit to fully living your life, because the perspective you’ll be able to cast coupled with experience? Then, only then perhaps, are the dreams ripe.
Words become powerful for a writer. Why? Because their time has come. They have earned their place.