Water in the Desert

For those of you who are too busy and living too much in the fast lane that writing blog posts and attending writing groups is just a pip too far, I feel your pain. I found myself in that awkward predicament of missing so many writing group Zoom sessions (in fact I don’t think I attended one) I felt I had to be there. 

I agreed via WhatsApp, wrote the time in my diary – Monday Evening, 7.30pm- and finished the rest of my week. Monday evening approached and glancing at my pile of marking and the equally large pile of washing up, I sighed and sauntered into my bedroom-which-also-serves-as-an-office and fired up my phone (Zoom doesn’t work properly on my laptop). “Perhaps,” I thought to myself “I’ll just stay online for thirty minutes and graciously make my excuses.” As the screen clicked onto the various pages I realised the actual Zoom session had already started and I had written down the time incorrectly. I was half an hour late. However, I’d only missed the notices.

Everyone was extremely friendly and happy to welcome me into the session despite my tardiness. I was asked if I’d brought anything to share and I apologetically declined (that would make the session even longer) and as the chair of the meeting announced the first writer, I settled down to listen. At once I was swept away by her words, the characters, and the well-written prose spattered with snippets of brilliance. My mind began to sort feedback into positive encouragements and smatterings of constructive criticisms. My hunger for words had been reawakened and my appetite needed satiating. I greedily listened and fed back and suddenly I wanted to share my own work. How could I have missed this ache that dwelt inside of me? Deeply buried under the worries, the deadlines, and the challenges of everyday life?  What is wrong with me that I am blind to these nuggets of gold that should be allowed to surface in the chaos of life? This is joy-making stuff!

God has been dealing with me about these things. This self-pity of being overwhelmed with life. Maybe that’s a bit harsh but the truth is, everyone has these pressures and Jesus knows we will have these pressures – all those who are burdened come to me… 

Without the writing, without the interruptions (which are so much more than mere interruptions) we are left dry and thirsty, and if we’re not careful the ache and passion of our ambition are pushed deep into the darkness and we can no longer feel them. Drive, desire, aspiration, and ambition are buried and forgotten. 

I heard poetry that evening, a chapter of a novel, a snippet of an idea. This fed my soul and made my heart sing. I gloried in the talent and ambition of others and then I decided to share my own work. The feedback was reassuring, encouraging, and uplifting. A boost to my confidence and suddenly I realised the washing up and marking could wait. I stayed for the whole session and felt more whole and enlivened than I had felt for a while. Joy sparked and I realised  I couldn’t wait for the next one.