Easter Sunday and Renewing Your Writing

Even though it was Easter Sunday, I did not go to church. I couldn't. Well, perhaps I could have, but I wasn't sure it was a good idea. I haven't been feeling well for some time. Yes, this blog post may be a bit more personal than most, but it is after all, Easter Sunday, what could be more personal than sharing some thoughts on this blessed day and the current circumstances in my life? I didn't go to church because I wasn't feeling well. I wasn't feeling well because I have interstitial cystitis. No, this is not some death-knell health concern for me, nor is it a plea for attention or sympathy. It's just that sometimes, like this illness for me, we writers have things that get in the way of our writing, and we use those not actually as excuses, but as reasons not to fulfill our God-given calling as writers, artists, or whatever purpose He has tasked to you to work on with the time, talent, and treasure you have been given.

Now, I know that we all have battled the "what talents and treasure, He hasn't given me anything like that!" I can not today lend much time to that discussion today. I have--like everyone else--battled that demon, but I feel that this post will better serve its purpose focusing more on how the Easter celebration better instills a renewal and rebirth of our calling, if we so choose to embrace it and live it.

The malady I aforementioned showed up rather unexpectedly and has lingered for an unnecessary amount of time. I hope and pray that I am offered some sense of respite, reprieve, and improvement from the complications associated with the illness in due course, but again, that still leaves me questioning what it is that I should be doing with the time I have until it's over, and I was poignantly reminded that the illness does not prevent me from doing what I love to do: write.

If I look into the actual events surrounding our celebration of Easter, it is a celebration of victory over death, illness, sin. It is a sign that we do not have to succumb to our physical circumstances in so long as they are fulfilling a purpose, and for me being physically unable to do much, it became clear to me that perhaps this absurd and unusual malady was a way of forcing me into a focused and renewed sense of purpose. It has reminded me not to focus on the house projects, all the social events that we can now conveniently all of a sudden do that we couldn't do for a year, just sit down and write: finish writing your blog post, the diary entry, your six-line poem, the first or last paragraph, the first or last page to your short story or novel. Do not let physical or emotional circumstances that hinder you from the worldly things you wish you were doing control you, but resurrect that purpose and meaning that you have found in your life, whether it be a hobby, spending time with a loved one, the work you do at your employer, and renew your sense of purpose with it. And even if you are physically unable to do so, look for the sense of purpose you have in even the smallest of things in your life, remembering--literally and or metaphorically if necessary--Jesus's words that we should take in faith and action: "Get up, pick up your mat, and walk" (John 5:8). And so it is for me, despite my physical and emotional circumstances; I pick up my pen and write.