During National Novel Writing Month, I frequently ask “Why am I doing this?”

When I heard another friend asking a similar question, I had to smile. She puts it so well:

“By knowing and having purpose,
our small lives become big;
our minimal moments become
more meaningful.

“Our confusing and convoluted paths become clear and straight, like a freshly ironed, crisp, white, button-down shirt.”

- Bethany Soler, “Why?”

I love this: “Minimal moments become more meaningful.”
“Confusing paths become clear.” Echoes my own prayers.

Writing about children who lost their homes and their parents brings me face to face with my own dark moments.

Thanks Bethany – you remind me I’m not the only one struggling for a life of purpose. Corinthians 10:13 talks about these shared struggles: The things you struggle with are no different than what others experience.

We may travel on different parts of the road, but we’re all on the same path. We are born, we grow, we laugh, we love, we cry, we fall asleep. We’re here for a few breaths, like blades of grass in the sunlight.

If you think about it, that means no one is alone. You’re always running alongside other people just like you.

That means we are part of a family. We’re put here to help each other. To encourage each other. To make something beautiful of the pain and struggles.

Which circles back to why I write. Why write a novel? Why sacrifice your nights? Why bother?

The answer: I create to stay sane. To give thanks. To give warning.

I write so that I may live a part of my life on paper. Along the way, I observe, remember, and learn. Over time, I hope to make sense of this life I’ve been given.

The way I see it, I’m co-authoring a story with God. He gives me a new page to start out with every day. I’d like to see what happens next.

I write to learn the words to sustain the weary.
To pass on something of worth to the next generation.

“For these things we are thankful. For these things we pray.” – Babylon 5

Here’s my prayer for the night:

To the One who hears the sparrows fall,
To He who kindles sunrise and sunset,
Glory and honor.

May our small lives become big, as we follow your path.
Fill these tiny earthen vessels with the light of eternity.
Give us this day our daily bread.

Forgive us when we fall;
And give us the strength to forgive others who fall.

“Be with our friends and loved ones.
Keep them safe and close to you.
Especially our men and women serving overseas.

Lead, guide, and direct us,
And we give you the praise for it all
In Christ’s name.

Amen.”

Any questions, comments or brilliant statements?