Today I realized that the gift I knew God gave me--writing--is one of my greatest avenues of joy. Not that I didn't know I received joy from it before, but while I've been on a short writing break, I have felt as though I am floating between contentment and agitation. I thought I've just been in a funk, but it hit me today that the only thing that's changed these past couple of weeks, is my scheduled writing time has become catch up on the house time. And let's face it, writing is so much more satisfying than housework...and, it's a lot easier to find God in writing characters who seek Him, than it is to find God in scrubbing the kitchen sink for the fifth time in a week.
So, I am going to write. Again. A sixth novel.
Writing is more than a creative outlet. It anchors my joy and opens my heart up to God's gift to me.
Why would I hinder it?