Why do I let it attack me so?
This writer-business can get under one’s skin if one lets it. Couple that with a huge dose of Eeyore DNA coursing through my veins and you get something very strange. One day I got a contract to sign in one envelope and my sales figures for past books in another. You’d think I’d jump up and down. (I did a little). But by the day’s end, the sales figures wrapped their icy fingers around my joy.
Today I had a talk with a dear woman who encouraged me to rest. Rest! That elusive word I’ve been encouraging OTHERS to do. Hmmm. It’s true. There is always more you can do to sell your books. Always more stones to turn over.
I’d been living as if it were all up to me to orchestrate sales. Today I gave it up (again) to Jesus. He holds it all, doesn’t He? He blesses. He takes away. Blessed be His name in either scenario. I felt a weight lift from me. It’s not up to me. It’s not my job. I can only do what He puts in front of me, but I often drag things out from edges of my will into the center of the pool of light He’s shown me, adding tasks to my to-do list with weird glee.
“I can do more, more, MORE!” I tell myself.
But I can’t.
Jesus, take the pen. Take the computer. Take the marketing. Take the sales. Take the worry. Take the words. Have Your way again. It’s for You. It’s for You.