The Desert Years

A couple of posts ago I mentioned the dream I had to write books and speak. I love God's word. I love God's truth. Every time I learn something new I want to immediately share it with others. I believe I am a teacher at heart. Homeschooling my children gives me such joy because I get the opportunity to teach daily. Also, good teachers are eager learner. I adore learning. I read constantly, relish the information found in my children's textbooks, watch informational programs, and listen to teaching on the radio. Thus, my heart longs to teach in a way that will encourage others to know God more intimately and to walk in a way that is pleasing to Him.

Writing brings me great joy. I have written varying things since I was in my early teens. After writing my first book I paused to ask God if this was His desire for my life. That day the reading in my Bible was for Job 19:23. It said, "Oh, that my words were written! Oh, that they were inscribed in a book!" I was elated. I felt I had my answer. God verified that I was to write.
There was one small problem, though, I had a lot to learn from the Master. To learn this would walk through a dry and lonely desert. Just He and I. He would chip from me some really ugly personality flaws. He would heal some deep hurts. He would prepare me according to His will and His time.

I've written a few books. I have even sent them to publishers but have been rejected. The things I have written have been so important to me. I just knew others would find help and hope in them. I wrote these books several years ago. The past three years, however, I haven't written much at all. This season of desert walking brought much grief as I have felt my dream to write had died.

I became frustrated with God. I looked at other women who were doing the very things I desired to do. Why couldn't I do that? Was I not good enough? I just didn't understand. Then, God showed me something more. For our dreams to become His, they must die. Just as when a seed drops to the earth, it must die before I can begin to grow. As long as the dream to write and speak is of my making, it could only go where this woman could take it. But when I allow it to die to Him, it will go where He wants to take it. And that is much greater than anything I can imagine. I believe this desire is God given. Now I want it to be God driven. In the years to come I want to cooperate with Him as He works in my life to make me an instrument prepared for this work. And, in the end, it will not be for my glory, but for His glory.