For the longest time, I didn’t even have a desk. What I placed my computer on from the time I was 19 until the time I was 30 was a cheap, round two-seater kitchen table. And I use the words kitchen table lightly, as it looked to be something that belonged more on the patio of my grandmother.
Those were the days before social media as we know it now; they were the days that my biggest distraction was spam IMs from my AOL messenger. But oh, how I would write and write and write until my wrists hurt from the weird angle from which I hoisted my hands over my keys. I woke up in the morning, went to work at my job as a bookstore manager, or non-profit budget coordinator, or marketing associate, or youth pastor, or director of communication, or graphic designer, or project manager, or whatever-my-job-was-those-days, and given any free moment from my duties, it was back to writing. There was not enough time to contain those words.
Now, I write for a living. I write books. Or, well, I’ve written three (1, 2, 3). I’ve written a bunch of articles for a bunch of places. I write messages for talks I give. Sometimes it’s a joy, sometimes it’s an obligation. Sometimes I put it aside and watch a season of Frasier on Netflix. Now, the challenge of blogging – of not being paid to do something and just doing it because of my love for it, well, I’m a little scared.
I’m scared I won’t have the tenacity to follow through, and do this – yikes – every day, except on the weekends.
I’m scared I’ll get disappointed in those darn numbers and say it’s not worth my time.
I’m scared I’ll…
Wow, this one’s hard to say.
I’m scared I’ll run out of good words.
There is a fear we must face when we do what we truly believe we are called to do: what if I try and fail?
Then who am I?
Oh, please remind me that I am a child of the King. A daughter of the One who sees me clothed in righteousness, not mistakes and sin and mud. Let me lean into You, my Father, when I break my own heart by filling it up with the chards of lies and not your soft truth.
Comments
12 responses to “The Fear of Starting Over Again”
Cheering for you … keep going.
Thank you, Kelley!
I’m scared of what following the Lord’s call to Pastoral Ministry is going to look like. I am meeting with a group tonight that three years ago took me off the ordination track (for reasons not necessarily about me personally), and I am afraid of what that meeting will tell me – do I stay in this denomination or do I go elsewhere.
Praying. Been there, too.
my dear sweet Anne. a very close friend shared this with me the other day. whenever i begin to doubt my gifts, worth, abilities, i refer back to it. i pray it encourages you as much as it encouraged me.
okaaay…so lets try this again.
http://youtu.be/uWi5iXnguTU
Love this.
I can so relate to this….I think all writers have this “fear” in the back of our minds…the fear of the word-well running dry in our hearts. It can torture us and leave us doubting even the words we do get out on paper…are these words significant? Will they change things? How will they fall on the ears of others? It makes me think of the words Aaron Shust opens with on his very first album, “Give me words to speak…don’t let my spirit sleep…cause I can’t think of anything worth saying.” That really describes the internal dialogue I have with myself a lot…and I think most other writers have the same struggle.
The simple most annoying (if we’re being honest) solution I think is just simply to write. By letting our fears stifle the words or uncovered words of our heart, we’re allowing ourselves to be imprisoned. And that’s a miserable state for any writer. In the end, it’s not about the fear itself…it’s really not…because we’re always going to face fear in our lives. It’s about how we use the fear we’re feeling. Will we let fear imprison us? Or will we use fear to motivate and push us to write what’s on our heart.
It’s like what Jon Acuff said one night on twitter, “Waiting until you’re not afraid to do something is a great way to never do something. Do it afraid.” I tell you, those words just really stir something in my heart.
You’re and awesome writer and your words have blessed in my life more than you know. So keep writing…even if you think what your writing is insignificant…it might be just what someone out there needs to hear. Let fear motivate you, not imprison you.
Do it afraid, Anne.
So true. Thank you so much for the kind words. And the encouragement!
Wonderfully written! Made we want to do something like jump up and shout “Hallelujah” (tho knowing myself, I’d do it quietly!).
“What if I try and fail?”
Anne, you have know way of knowing how those words resonated with me. I won’t give details, but some years ago my about-5 daughter sweet-talked me into borrowing a library book that (I thought) didn’t interest me.
I was wrong. It caught my interest very strongly. I thought “I wonder if we could do that?” And my answer was immediate, strong, and positive: “No. We could never do that.”
God didn’t quit. He nagged at me. I kept telling Him “It’s not possible.”
Finally this thought dropped into my mind (looking back, I have no doubt He dropped it there): “How would you feel if you didn’t try, and someone else did, and succeeded?”
Guess what? We tried. He helped. We succeeded.
We’ll be praying for you to do the same!
Thank you Pete!