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Writing with Purpose

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I can still remember writing my first story. I was no more than six. I wrote and illustrated my work using a grand total of two pages of yellow notepad paper. It was a happy tale about a king who loved pink. I rolled it carefully into my favorite green and white polka-dotted wrapping paper and gave it to my mother for Christmas that year. She’s kept it safely hidden away ever since.
As a child, there were no hidden messages or deep meanings behind the stories I wrote. They were simply the happy tales of a little girl’s imagination. Eventually, my writing became a type of therapy. I wrote of characters that faced the situations I feared most. (Yes, imagine if you will what are some scary situations you worry about having to face? Really happy stories those would turn out to be, right.) Somehow it was easier to release my fears and manage them on paper than to worry of ever having to deal with them on my own.
Those childish scribbles eventually came to an end, however. Without the little girl imagination or the time to fret over my worst fears, my writing became an accumulation of desires, likes, dislikes, and challenges. For a single young woman with no prospects and struggling in her career in banking, the rambling scribbles I enjoyed became nothing more than hours of wasted work. Although I loved writing, it seemed as though I had no purpose for it any longer in my life.
I was about to give up my writing when I realized that it may have been intended for a different purpose. Perhaps this pleasure I’d so long enjoyed, perhaps this gift God had given me, was to be put to a good use after all. In all the years I had written, never had it been for the glory of the One who had blessed me with the desire to write to begin with. Never had I spoken of the love I found in my Father. Never did I write of the encouragement I found in Him. I changed my way of thinking the very day I realized this.
Needless to say, I still love to write. In fact, I believe I enjoy it now more than ever before. I still consider my writing to be my work. The difference is that I find it to be more purpose-driven than before. Something else I have learned is this- writing in a way that serves God requires an open heart. No matter what time period I may set my story or how similar I am to my characters, my heart must go into my writing. By doing this, my stories are more realistic, my descriptions better described, and feelings are more relatable. My writing now requires me to turn more to God. I have to wonder if I am writing stories as He’d like. I wonder what situations I’ve misinterpreted. There are allot of heart to heart conversations had over the fictional stories I write, but that is because the emotions and feelings are real. My writing gives me time with God. It is time I love and appreciate. I would not have it any other way.

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