Saying Yes to No

You may remember Breathe Festival from previous posts. It's about time I tell you what happened this past summer at Breathe.

I've liked creating stories since I was a kid. And in high school, I really got into writing fiction. Throughout my undergrad studies, writing was my foremost hobby. By early 2014, I had finished two novels, and a number of short stories, all unpublished. And leading up to Breathe, I was planning out a new story, one that I felt (and still feel) had the greatest potential to take me from being a hobby writer to published one.

But here's the thing: I spent lots of time thinking about writing. I would think about it at work, during class, during sermons, on car trips, and while falling asleep at night. I would meticulously plan what I was going to write the next time I sat down at the computer. When I saw people who were out of work or had otherwise lost their sense of meaning in life, I told myself that that would never be me, because I would always have my stories, my personal writing projects to give me meaning. Even if society collapsed into chaos, I would still be able to write, so I would still be okay.

When I went to Breathe this summer, they had a breakout session about self-denial, which sounded interesting. I went to it, and the guy recommended each of us take some time during the weekend to ask God "What's wrong with me?" I did that during worship after the following sermon, and I tried to be open to any answer that He might give. In doing so, I had such a visceral reaction against the mere possibility that God might be telling that I needed to give up writing, that this finally registered as a problem.

If God truly is King of my life, then if he says no to something, I need to as well. If I never write another piece of fiction in my life, if I never write another word, that has to be okay.

And I knew in that moment was that this was not okay. Not by a long shot.

So I had a choice: I either had to turn my back on God, or say yes to God's no.

Immediately, I knew I had made the right choice. As worship continued around me, I felt that - for the first time in my life - there were no idols between myself and God. I was able to worship with full abandon, in Spirit and in Truth. It was incredibly liberating.

Those of you who write for a living are probably going to have a hard time understanding this. (You probably also wouldn't believe me if I told you that I actually enjoy writing, but I do). But this isn't about writing. That was my idol, but it likely isn't yours. This was something that I was hoping in, counting on, before and above God.

And so I gave up writing fiction. An indefinite fast. And when you fast from something indefinitely, there's not really any fun in fantasizing about it anymore. So the obsessive patterns of thought have been breaking down. And with this idol out of the way, I've been growing. (More on that next time).

I sincerely believe that God will call me out of my fast someday, to use the talents He has put in me; but whenever, if ever, that may happen, I'm learning to be content.