Real Role in Cosmic Play

I’m not a real writer. Yes, I’ve won an award for my memoir, written a prize-winning poem, published articles in national magazines, and devote several hours a week to writing. And yet, it doesn’t drive my life, like some writers. “I have to write.” “I need to make sentences.” “Not a day goes by that I don’t think about my WIP (work in progress).” I’ve read many versions of those statements.

Although, on the other hand, “writers write.”  I do write. Most predictably I produce this weekly devotional. Googling “Karen Rabbitt” (with the quote marks) points to several pages of writing.

Writing, though, isn’t my prime focus. Thinking is. Thinking about how to experience the depth of Father-God’s passion and compassion for myself. How to communicate that depth to others. How to help people heal from shame, choose forgiveness, and grieve life’s losses.

And yet, I’m not a real thinker, either. Real thinkers study harder, read more research, spend hours in Bible study.

I think it’s the internet that drives the thoughts of not being “real.” The contact on Twitter and the blogosphere with more focused, “real” writers and thinkers. It’s the old comparison trap, amplified by access to dozens, hundreds, thousands of better writers and thinkers.

Time to refocus. Regain perspective. Reread the script God’s handed me. Whether I’m a real writer or a real thinker by some personal standard, I want to be the “real” Karen Rabbitt in this play God is directing. Sounds ironic, doesn’t it?

But author God is writing his cosmic play. To be real is to play the part written for us.

Father, May we stop looking at the roles you’ve written for others. Give us eyes only for our own script.