Poured Out Like Water

One day last week I went on a bumpy ride on my peace journey.

I had been praying about whether or not to take a 10-week course called Memoir in Progress. I knew there’d be a lot of prep work before the class started  but I was up for the challenge and the risk involved.  I say risk because I’m timid in really starting to write this book. Not only is it about so many different things (infertility, an adoption disruption, becoming a mom, being the child of an alcoholic, being erroneously diagnosed as a manic-depressive), I often wonder if I could really write a book.

I got words of faith, courage and inspiration from Psalm 22, Verse 5

They cried out to you and were saved; in you they trusted and were not disappointed.

So, all day long, I thought about how I could accomplish the mountains of work that needed to be done in the 4 days before the start of the class. Bill and I went through the possible ways I could get the time to write and research, as well as who could watch Cricket for the hour overlap time between my leaving and his coming home from work. The class was on my mind all day, and I kept listening to hear God’s voice telling me if I should sign up.

I never heard His voice; never felt peace about taking the class, and I was kind of disappointed. Then, moments before going to bed, I went on-line to reread the course description and discovered that it had been cancelled. I was completely deflated, and remembered Verse 14 from Psalm 22 that I had written in my journal, thinking it was such a poetic sentence and possibly a cool, unusual title for my book:

I am poured out like water.

That’s exactly how I felt.  I had gotten so excited by the class, especially at the prospect of having my butt kicked into starting the book.  We had figured out a babysitting strategy; I had gathered all my essays and notes and started writing.  I was confused and frustrated.  It really seemed like I was supposed to take this class at this time.

I knew God had answered my question to Him about whether I should take the class, by taking the decision out of my hands. But why not? It seemed like a win all around. I didn’t get my answer until today, writing this post, six days later. First off, my first paragraph clearly shows that I’m not ready to write this book because there’s no common thread among all the elements I want to write about. There’s no arch to my story yet. So I need to keep writing to find it.

More importantly,  I hadn’t yet decided and announced that this would be my Banner Year, the year in which I dedicate all that I write to God and his purpose for me. That needed to come first.

I was poured out like water, but now I am full again. Now I have peace. Now I have a lot of thinking and writing to do.