The person who said if you don’t write because you love it, you won’t write, got it right. It’s such a lonely thing, you’ll eventually give it up if you write just to be famous, or some other reason. It’s what is in me. If I don’t write on ‘paper’ or a novel or journal or something, I’m writing as I hold a conversation. As I talk, I’m always thinking, ‘how can I put this?” I write it on my mind’s blackboard, erase it, cross it out, and change the order of words… all before the words come out of my mouth. As a result, I often speak in phrases. But if I’m writing regularly, I find I’m a lot more relaxed in conversation. The words in me have to find a way out.
Similarly, if I don’t practice the piano enough, I begin to dream about music and making music. Sometimes strange things like playing a flat keyboard with no raised black keys, or just a flat table but I knew where all they keys were. And the music comes out. It has to. It runs around inside my head until I find a way to express it. It almost sounds clinical doesn’t it?
But with the words and music, it’s a satisfying compulsion.
And it seems to me being a Christian is like that. If Christ is in me, somehow, I must express that relationship. Witness, help people, ease people’s sorrows, reach out to teach…. something to let that inner life show. It’s a marvelous compulsion!
Never mind that Jesus says it as a command. If Christ has truly brought God into my life, I will find a way to share that life.