Journals, book marks, paper backs, hard cover, self-help books, stationery, fancy pens and assortments of pencils beckoned me from behind the glass walls of the bookstore. A writer's dream.
I could just as easily purchase one of everything with nary a thought - other than the impact it would have on my wallet, and my already bulging bookshelf and the marble bookends on my nightstand.
Feeling quite discouraged after having just pulled a publication from the market, I thumbed through the papery goods and written works haphazardly, a twinge of jealousy surfacing as I read each authors' name.
Titles taunted me as if I hadn't endured enough suffering after pulling my Journey in Testimony. "Get Published in 2016." "The Top Ten Secrets for Writers." "How to this" and "How Not to that."
I seem to have the "How not to that" genre buttoned up tight. Though my intentions for publishing my story were good - to bring a story of hope, restoration and healing to the lives of broken women - I had done it in a fashion that appeared revengeful and hurtful. With great pain and no less tears I took my book out of circulation.
My hard work, time spent, sacrifices and energy seemed to laugh back at me from those glossy-covered books and journals on the spinning wire rack. Then, one simple journal caught my eye. The front of the journal held the drawing of a suitcase - the very backdrop and front cover for my Journey in Testimony. The back cover displayed one of a passport - a representation of a girls' ministry that God had just opened the door for me to lead.
With eyes wet with tears, on the front I read, "what am I waiting for?" On the back, "It is here where she must begin to tell her story."
Through a fairly plain and uncomplicated journal with blank lined pages inside waiting to be filled, God reminded me of His promise in Psalm 37:4. "Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart."
Notice that delighting in Him comes before the desires of your - of my - heart. See, friends, I'd put more time and energy into seeking after my desires that the very talents God intended for me to use for His glory became more important than authentic relationship with Him.
On the cream colored pages of this heaven sent gift I will pen the only words He's ever wanted from me: Father, I seek hard after you.