Writing for God

I awoke with a heavy heart this morning knowing next week I meet with my merry group of women.  We'll be sorting through all of my writing over the last six years, categorizing it into topical groups so that I can bring it before the Lord and ask if the book should be written in topical chapters chronologically or chronologically by topic.  I wrestle with this decision.

I struggle to write about topics that still cause pain to surface.  I've talked about them before but having someone else learn about them is scary and exposing.  I may need to have a friend or my therapist sit with me as I write down those experiences.

The hope part is rather easy and I look forward to it.  There has been so much healing and insight from such pain and abuse one would think I would have emerged a bitter person but I did not.  God guarded my spirit from ever becoming like theirs and for that, I am very grateful.

Writing a book God asks you to write can be stressful when you forget He's going to be there to lead and guide you all the way.  That's what I keep forgetting.  It wasn't my idea to write it.  I just asked the question.  He was the one who gave the answer.

God the Father, Jesus His Son and the Holy Spirit are the leaders, providers, teachers and guardians of my life.  They have my back when Satan casts a net over my brain and I can't think or write or read the Bible or stumble when I talk or keep my balance or have migraines or nightmares or suicidal thoughts or self-injure.  But my Heavenly Realm reminds me of their presence, their Guardian of Angels, my ability to keep myself safe, the many phone numbers I can call, the godly therapist I've been given, my psychiatrist who will bend over backwards to get me into the hospital and all the ladies who would help if I ask for it, my family who would come running and I am capable, even when I'm feeling incapable, of taking care of myself.

I know I need a few Sams in my life.  I've been blessed to have three of the most godly women I know befriend me when least expected:  Marie, Laurie and Catherine.  And then I have my Pippins and Marys who are pure delights, like the three before, and they are Jennifer, Saundra, Michelle, Donna, Merrilyn, Kim, my small group, my family and a host of others too many to mention.

My Sams are warriors even if they don't see themselves that way.  They cast out demons, pray for protection, read about my past and put a knife into the enemy all the while holding my inner child who is afraid she has lost what she's been fighting for all along on her journey.  But she hasn't.

It's like in the Fellowship of the Ring -  The Return of the King when Frodo needs Sam's help to complete the task set before him that only he can complete.  I recognize that my book will not save middle earth like in this scene but you never know...for someone suffering from the effects of abuse, it just might.

You see, Sam has now become a fierce warrior and no one or nothing is going to stand in the way of him getting to his friend, Frodo.  But when he gets there and pulls the ring out of his pocket to show Frodo he had it for safe keeping, he listens to Frodo about giving him the ring.  Did you notice Sam's hesitation in giving it to Frodo?  Did you notice Frodo's response?

 - Frodo asked Sam to give him back the ring.

 - Sam did not want to but not for the reason Frodo thought.
 - Frodo thought Sam wanted to keep it for himself.

 - Sam was staring at the skin around Frodo's neck from carrying the ring.

 - Sam knew what wearing the ring was doing to Frodo and still, he gave it back to him.

 - And Sam was right.  Frodo became instantly weak with the burden he knew was his alone to carry.

Sometimes, not often, God asks us to carry a burden that no one else can really understand unless they've experienced it and even then, it can feel lonesome.  Fortunately, it's not very often. Even Jesus had John and His mother with him at the cross.  Others came but the ones He loved the most and who loved Him were there to share the burden and agony of pain and sorrow of death with Him.

They cried at the sight of Him, they cried at the tears He cried, they cried when He cried out in pain, they cried when He called out to His father and they cried when He cried His very last tear.

That's whose pain I carry in my heart.  The One who was asked to carry a burden on my behalf, to suffer on my behalf, to bleed on my behalf, to be separated from those He loved on my behalf, to be beaten until almost dead on my behalf, to hang as a common criminal on my behalf, to pardon a guilty criminal on my behalf, to forgive me on my behalf, to die on my behalf, to rise on my behalf and to start the church on my behalf.

That's why this book is being written.

On His behalf.