Bruised reeds and smouldering wicks

Reading back through recent ACW blogs I have been struck by a common thread. Many of us, though deeply committed to our calling as writers, are experiencing life events that are preventing us from fulfilling that calling to the extent that we would like. Some are carers, others restricted by health problems, others burdened and distracted by routine or unexpected tasks, others oppressed by inner pressures whose potency can scarcely be expressed. And it hurts. Many of us are bruised. 

Last year, it could have been said that I, like many other thoughtful people, was smouldering. There seemed to be so much wrong everywhere to make one smoulder. I did a great deal of it! But suddenly, though the outer situation got no better, my need to smoulder went away. Moreover, it became clear that, right though the cause may be, the smouldering could be uncomfortable for others — for those who are bruised, for instance. The smoke gets in their eyes and throats.

This has made me think more widely about how our discourse affects one another. Yes, it is wonderful that you have scored a publishing success: but think before you celebrate extravagantly — could your whooping upset a less successful sister? Again, it is wonderful that you have developed a technique for huge productivity in writing: but might your punchy, feisty presentation be a stumbling block for a brother struggling with grief or unemployment? ‘Everything is permissible — but not everything is constructive. Nobody should seek his own good, but the good of others.’ 

In our study group a few days ago we were struck by a passage in the Old Testament reading for the coming Sunday: ‘A bruised reed he will not break, and a smouldering wick he will not snuff out...he will not falter or be discouraged till he establishes justice on earth.’ If you are a bruised writer — bruised by any of the tough things of life — you can and should expect gentle, restorative handling from the Master. And we, your brother and sister writers, are the Master’s hands, so the gentle handling is delegated to us.  ‘Each of us should please his neighbour for his good, to build him up. For even Christ did not please himself.’

If I were a person who made new year’s resolutions, I think this year’s one would be to try to give greater consideration to the bruises of my ACW colleagues. And I would like to recommend this intention to my readers.

Edmund Weiner