If we were speaking in technicalities, I would be on Chapter 5 in The Artist Way because I am starting week 5 of my morning pages.

However that’s just technically.

In real life, I am deliberately making way through Chapter 3 stopping every paragraph to highlight every life giving item my eyes fall upon. I still can’t tell if Julia’s words are simply anointed or if it’s unexplainably my time to grasp this writing dream. Long run I guess it doesn’t matter, my understanding of who I am as a creative and the value it holds, is changing. This thought of writing a book is gradually developing from something people have told me I need to do and a dream of mine, to actually a thing I am made to do. I am not made to do it because I have a huge word to deliver, or a deep wisdom to give. I am made to do it because I am a writing creative and that alone gives life.

This morning as my hands begrudgingly took out the red and brown colored journal to begin the arduous task ahead, my mind laid blank. Either unwilling or uninspired I don’t know, I just know each letter was pure grit. The more I wrote, the less grit had a hold and by page two and a half I found myself toying with the thought of what I would say in a book and just like that my heart starting palpitating. My mind started to get foggy and my grit came back. Tighten the grip on my pen as to not lose hold due to the sweat on my palms building up. I thought “I don’t have enough to say”, “I don’t have enough story to tell”. “Why can’t I just write the point!” And then like dew rests on leaves a thought began to lay ever so gently on my brain.

“Jesus didn’t come to earth and go straight to the cross.”

The words laid heavy on my heart as my pen moved across the page quick with the emotion.
‘I think I have heard before. Surely I have heard that before”, I thought to myself. This time it’s different. You see this journey is growing me and that statement says so much more. What if all we had was the cross? What if we didn’t have the story of the disciples? Each of the 12 men telling a piece of who Jesus was in their words, with their actions. What if we didn’t have the women who knew Jesus? The ones who gave all they had at his feet, and served him in a world that held no value for them? The STORY of Jesus is just as valuable as the cross. Our ability/knowledge to walk out the freedom He released on the cross comes from the stories told of his life on earth. The value of the story, the fact that in the grand design that God created, He placed such significance in the telling of Jesus STORY. He created a life of miracles, divine interventions, and fulfilled prophecies to compliment the point; the cross.

I guess if God, the ultimate creator, sees value in creating the STORY, I should too. I should do the work of authoring the story. I choose to say yes to the STORY. I will silence again the inner critic and say, I have enough story because I am a writing creative and that alone gives life.

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