What will I do when all my fans…my adoring fans... tune in for an article and I got nothing.. I mean NOTHING!! It’ll be pandemonium, an ungodly, unimaginable, unmanageable (wait..unmanageable.. is that a word) uproar and all because I dropped the ball. What will I do, who will I be, who am I now....
"Whoah sista, HALT!! This has taken a dramatic dark turn somewhere and we better climb out quick", I tell myself.
Why is it so hard to separate what you do from who you are? When someone asks you to describe yourself, we immediately ramble off: "I’m a student, teacher, mom, business owner, blah, blah…"
It all tumbles when you’re fired, or your kids grow up, or you run out of student loan money…lol.
So I’m up, (yeah it’s 4am) and I’m asking with writers block.. who am I…who am I…who am I… and softly I hear, "you’re mine."
No God that’s not correct. I’m asking WHO am I, not WHOSE am I.
He must find us comical because softly he repeats, "You’re mine."
"I’m yours??? I’m yours…OH, I’m Yours! I get it. My identity is wrapped up in what or Who I believe I belong to. And because you’re my Creator and Savior, you had me in mind before I even became a writer or student or wife. I’m kinda like a special edition, a one of a kind, featured item huh…"
"Wow, that’s great material JC" I said
"You should write about it", He replies.
No comments:
Post a Comment