He asks me to write. I ignore Him.
Again, He asks me to write, to obey. I nap. I work on a Bible Study.
He persists. WRITE.
I finally decide it might be time for me to sit down at the computer.... But first, I'll check my e-mail, my bank account.
The internet won't work. I try again. This will only take me a few minutes I tell myself. I excuse myself.
Nothing. Rats.
I am reluctant. Fear tantalizes me. My lack seems so glaring. Why me? Why must I write?
WRITE.
So, I write. I write my unwillingness to obey. I write my reluctance to expose myself. I write of the bile in my throat that threatens. The panic that clutches. I write of the comparisons I make in my heart, to others more gifted, more successful than one such as I.
What is that to you? Follow Me. John 21:22
Follow Me. Even into territories unknown? Even into weakness, and failure? Even into anxiety and dread? Follow You into sorrows and wounds? Follow into mire and muck?
Follow. Me.
I expose my heart. My life. Then let go.
I have been reluctant too long. Mired too long. It's time to relinquish.
It's time to follow.
I write.
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