If I am brutally honest, this is what I must ask: The single question I leave with God most often is about my writing...

I have a lot of questions for God.

All the usual ones about suffering and war. A lot of wondering about how this is all meant to make sense when it all feels so unfair. It doesn’t seem quite right, but I pause, knowing I have absolutely no idea, nor could I even comprehend it in my human mind. There is never a shortage of big problems, nor a span of time that things weren’t challenging. Before I sink into heartache for the world, I pause. I am better placed focusing on what I can do and who I can help. So, I come back to what is in front of me and what I can affect.

I like the idea of serving the person in front of me. There isn’t much better to do than help those around you. This is always soothingly beautiful to think about as the most effective thing I can do. But today, I look down and see myself.

I am trying to find a footing in the world as I consider what work I can return to in the workforce that fits my new life. My little ones are both in school now. I am no longer the person before children, yet I don’t know how the essence of who I was exists in the future as it slowly unrolls step by small step. I cannot see ahead and end up with a mouth full of unsureness, which I try to swallow. So much unsureness in myself leaves tears spilling out. I ask for help to find a step in the world and a softer embrace for myself. I ask for help to surrender to the unknowing, to the time it is taking. I blatantly ask for an answer as to what I should do.

I am feeling stuck, and as a result, I am asking again, like I did yesterday, why do I love to write like it is part of my being. Why do I feel I could write for the rest of my life? Why do I feel like that is my light that you tell me to shine it bright, but why, God, why does it not take off?

Why have I not had the overnight success post in my eleven years online? Eleven years of sharing my words, watching the slow incremental steps splattered with plateaus. If writing is what you gave me, why does it not go far for me?

These questions hit harder in my chest as mid-life appears on the horizon. I am asking God again and again what it is to be then. I see no path. I feel stuck because my talents are not shining despite putting my fuel behind them. I have written a few books and sent them off to agents and publishers with no take-up. I have done various book proposal courses and sent those off. Nothing. I get a gentle nudge, but then, ultimately, no response.

As the wave of emotion subsides, I come back to what I have. I come back to what I can do, to what is in front of me. One thing I have been shown in my life is that by putting one foot in front of the other, I can go on. I can always take the next step.

Dear Reader, here with me now; I do not take you for granted. I am so grateful I have you, who pulls me along to the next article. Thank you.

But I cannot deny the wish for a place to stand upon. To just know if I should be in or out. All or nothing is the answer I want; tell me, or am I better off elsewhere? I am happy to write as a joyful hobby if my strengths are best placed in something else. I just need to know.

I remember that sometimes it isn’t a yes or a no. Sometimes, it is a ‘not right now’. Which isn’t all that helpful, I must admit.

I sigh and my children’s laughter in the distance catches my ear. I wonder, at these tender ages of 4 and 6, if not right now, might be, hay, go over there and put your time into those calls for you. I know deep down that is a good answer. That is a worthy direction, and it is one I cherish. And yet, I am allowed to want more than motherhood. And so I return to asking again, is it a when or an if?

We have two hands—one to hold gratitude; the gratefulness, and the utter love for what we have. We also have a hand that allows us to hope for more, to reach for our dreams, and sometimes feel painfully empty in the thought of those dreams that have not yet been realised. Both things can be true.

I want to write.

So I do. I write and share it with you.

It is true. I wish for more.

I wish for more, but take stock of what I’ve got.

We hold such yearnings deep inside. Today, I have decided not to hide them. I wonder what deep question you hold, too—that deep wonder that aches a little.

That ache muddled with trust and surrender and question.

Oh, to the questions we carry as we go about our lot.

Thinking of you, as you of me.

Hold one hand full of all you’ve got.

Hold the other out to see what you want.

You may want it. Allow that want to be expressed in yourself, feel in your chest, achingly spilling down your arm and into your outreached hand.

If you’re ready, share it with me so we can sit side by side, one hand full and one hand reaching out, as we lean on each other and smiling at what may be yet to come.

Ta xx

PS

This wasn’t an easy post to write. I feel exposed, mentioning my faith. I struggle to mention anything seen as controversial, and faith is something I have held against me. I have wanted to slowly start mentioning faith words as they naturally occur in my life. However, as someone sensitive to negative comments and having received negative comments for simply being myself, I struggle in this way, both online and in person.

No one wants to be attacked. But I want to be myself. So, as I find more confidence in myself, I am beginning to see the inner strength I have that allows me to drop the shield a little more.

I have been afraid of losing readers. I am also afraid that people will twist my words or decide that I have particular views about things, and it is scary to open myself up to that.

But I can only step forward as I am, still showing all the love I have for everyone, being open and inclusive, and also myself. I am a person who humbly believes there is a God and is grateful for his support, which has been sorely needed in my life.

God, fill me with bold courage to live for such a time as this. You have placed me where I need to be and chosen me for a specific purpose. Free me from my fear and guide my decisions. I pray for the courage to bear myself today. I am unsure about life, but I am sure in you, and I know you will get me through. Also, could you tell me what you want me to do…

We have two hands—one to hold gratitude; the gratefulness, and the utter love for what we have. We also have a hand that allows us to hope for more, to reach for our dreams, and sometimes feel painfully empty in the thought of those dreams that have not yet been realised. Both things can be true.

Ta Hiron