All your words are true; all your righteous laws are eternal. Psalm 119:160 (NIV)
For the past month, I have been in a state of mind that I will refer to as writer’s funk. Unlike a case of writer’s block, I was able to come up with topics to write about, and even words to fill a page…but my interest to write waned. I kept telling myself that it was because I had nothing new to express. My style felt stale. My passion simmered to stagnant.
Friends consoled me with assurances that all writers felt this way at times. Perhaps that is true. But still something registered faulty in my soul. You see, for me, writing is just not a hobby…it is part of my quiet time with God. When I write, I pray. When I write, I search through scripture. When I write, I hunt through concordances. When I write, I worship. When I write, I talk to God, I ask for His insights, I ask that He will prevent me from typing words that would be contradictory to His truth, and I thank Him for that sweet fellowship.
The time I designate to write is precious, yet the first time I sat down to write in more than a month…seriously write…was when I began to work on this post. Yes, I still prayed and still worshiped God, but not as intentionally and with little enthusiasm. But through quiet reflection and prayer, I discovered that I couldn’t think of something fresh to write about, because I was spending too much time rummaging through my old baggage.
Issues that I thought I had worked through had once again resurfaced. Fear showed up for a visit and I granted him an open-ended invitation to live in a lavish guest suite in my heart. And wherever fear goes, anger and irritation follow. So I invited those two in as well. And, since I did not feel like sharing these struggles with trusted friends to keep me accountable…pride barged through the doors. Since I live in the South where inhospitableness is not tolerated, I left him stay too. And my final guest? Guilt..and not the healthy kind. In short, I kept God at a distance for a month, sulking because I wanted something new, but not willing to let go of old patterns.
But there is forgiveness with You, That You may be feared. I wait for the LORD, my soul waits, And in His word I do hope. My soul waits for the Lord. More than those who watch for the morning— Yes, more than those who watch for the morning. Psalm 130: 4-6 (NKJV)
I have found that the best way for me to combat old lies and habits is not by looking for something new, but by clinging to something ancient…truth. Focusing on God’s truth located in His word may not be new, but it certainly is renewing. And, much of what I discover is new to me.
As I typed the words above, I sighed…a joyful contented sigh. I am so grateful that He never leaves me to rot in my ruts.
(Author’s note: I feel it necessary to disclose that the funk I described above was not caused by clinical depression. There truly is a difference. Clinical depression is a serious medical condition that should be discussed with a health care provider. As someone who has struggled with two debilitating cases of postpartum mood disorder and felt deeply wounded by those who told me to “pray through it” or “just read your Bible more.” I would be remiss if I did not make that distinction.)