Unwrapping Rest in a Season of Writer’s Stress
By Maureen Miller
I could hear her weariness, though her message was merely a short text. I tossed and turned all night. I’m so stressed about reaching my deadline, and I have three devotions due. I’m failing miserably.
My writer friend’s anxiety seemed to
seep off the screen, making my heart palpitate. Lord, how do I encourage her?
Right then, I heard God’s quiet voice. What
does Psalm 62 say?
I knew. Having committed portions of
this particular passage to memory, the words were hidden in my heart. Find
rest in You alone, God. Our expectation should only come from You. (The New
King James version uses expectation.)
With regard to the holiday hype, the
world’s voice particularly loud, vying for attention, this reminder from the
Lord seemed a simple grace. And perhaps especially so for Christian writers,
with their plethora of ideas for wonderful messages to be conveyed with words.
As I pondered this passage, applying it
particularly to my friend’s situation—her stress over unmet writing expectations
causing her unrest—I discovered several timely truths.
First, we can unwrap rest from stress.
Look at both words. Can you see it? Takes a little rearranging perhaps, reevaluating
the use of one’s time. Ask the Lord to reveal His expectations for our
writing during the Christmas season, enabling us to prioritize according to His
best, reordering our plans so they align with His will.
After all, there’s no rest apart from
God’s best—His plans—for your writing.
Second, to unwrap rest in the season’s
stress, some projects may need to be omitted. Literally speaking, letters aren’t
only rearranged but several must be dropped to reveal the word rest in stress.
Ask the Lord what on our writing to-do list needs to be relinquished so
that better rest becomes a reality.
Though perhaps contrary to one’s
tradition, this might mean omitting the daily Christmas-themed Facebook post,
or maybe letting social media go altogether. It may mean omitting that perfect
Christmas letter to be sent to a million people, tucked inside a million
Christmas cards. Ask the Lord what He would omit that His presence might be experienced
best in each word He asks you to pen, fewer though they may be.
After all, the sweetest rest is while
writing, snuggled at His breast.
Finally, the truth that rearranged writing
plans and diminished expectations lead to rest—even in the midst of life’s
stress—is nothing new, and it’s not merely for the month of December.
Take, for example, the Holy Family all
those years ago. Nothing about Jesus’s conception within the womb of an unwed
girl met Mary’s expectations. Joseph’s or others’ either.
The couple’s plans in the little town
of Bethlehem changed unexpectedly when Jesus pressed upon His young mother.
Labor told her it was time, creating panic, no doubt, in the heart of a protective
husband and father.
A smelly barn wasn’t likely what these
new parents expected as the birthplace of their firstborn. Nor had they
imagined a feeding trough being Emmanuel’s first bed—God with us welcomed
by cows and sheep, perhaps a mourning dove’s song His first lullaby.
The humble shepherds on the Judean
hillside would have been the least expected to witness the new King’s arrival,
and their message of the Messiah undoubtedly made some raise an eyebrow,
questioning the accuracy of their account.
Indeed, little about Jesus’s conception
and birth was according to the world’s expectations. Still, He came just as God
intended—a Gift of perfect peace and rest to all writers who intentionally come,
pressing in despite the stress of life, to bend low, to be still in His
presence.
After all, the sweetest rest for
writers is when we know that—yes!—Emmanuel is God, The Word made flesh,
dwelling among us.
So, writers—may we unwrap rest in the
One who was wrapped in swaddling clothes.
Indeed, may we rest—and write—in Christ alone.
Photo courtesy of Unsplash.com and Sincerely Media.
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