I have sort of a secret. It’s more than sorta personal, the kind of thing you hesitate tell somebody or somebodies because there’s no way their reaction will honor the beauty of what’s been shared.
So, it’s been over a month now since this thing happened. I’ve recorded its occurrence in my journal, they way it appeared least expectedly.
The answer to a prayer while walking one evening. I’ve had answered prayers before, big, heavy and hard ones I’ve laid out before God, mostly about my children,
Rarely, so boldly about me.
I prayed that miserably hot afternoon, “Lord, is it your will that I write this book?” (I almost left the word “book” out here, doubts, fear, etc. saying don’t put that out there…don’t be so brave, keep it to yourself). The talk with God rambled on as I walked.
“Lord, I don’t want to think the way I’ve always thought. Maybe, deep down I don’t believe it’s possible. I believe it’s only a dream and this battle between believing it possible and fearing failure is strong.
So, Father I’m asking, do you want me to follow through, is writing a book a part of your plan for me?”
Walked on, relieved to have gotten it all out in the open. Better for being straight with God, like finally breaking the silent treatment with your spouse, the tension of what needed to be said is lifted.
It’s a start, at least towards good.
You say what you need to say and decide to just carry on regardless.
Not like a limbo state, just a sense of okay either way. Might seem like nothing but at least your load’s been lifted.
And now, I ramble.
The morning after the walk and talk, I do my normal sitting, reading, praying and lingering.
Typical morning, same routine and route.
Heading in to the office, good music, traffic info and some talk of events on the radio.
Then a word out of nowhere. Something I heard, crazy I couldn’t remember why or when.
“Treasure” it said and rested in my mind.
“This is your treasure, Lisa. This is your ability, your opportunity. This is your thing, I planted there, a tiny thing that you’re only beginning to see. But, you see it now because you’ve gotten quiet. You see it now, because you’ve gotten loud and unafraid about it. You see it now because it won’t let you not see it. Don’t conceal it any longer.
This is your treasure. This is your treasure. The thing you carry around with you everyday, embrace it some days and fear it others…the thing you’re crazy excited to do and the thing that you’re terrified of.
This is your treasure, it has great significance.”
i heard God’s voice. It’s impossible to minimize this experience or to detail it in a way that matches its reality and quiet awe. It was real, not spectacular, just real.
It was His answer and so, I will write the stories, compile them with grace, with brave and honest recollections, “The Colors of my Bible” will be its title.
Because, six months ago, I scribbled this hurried question across the page of my journal. Writing the words in an anxious “gotta write this down before I decide it’s too heavy to write…to even think!”
“Lisa, what if it is God’s will for you to write a book…200 pages or so…and one person, maybe two connects with your story and has hope, understands God more clearly, believes in redemption in a way that’s not just a word for others? Isn’t that enough? Wouldn’t that be more than enough? “
So, continue. Finish. This is your treasure, honor it. Write God’s book.
This is your Treasure in you, a humble and hesitant jar of earthly clay, created by God.