This wretched state I now find myself in I had chalked up to the holidays – all that glorious, magical, lovely, stressful, overindulgent, completely-off-my-routine holiday revelry. But here we are a solid week(ish) later and stttiiillll…I got nothing.
I can think of nothing profoundly interesting to write.
My well is dry.
My quill hath no ink.
I call this state of being “uninspiredness,” and it is, unequivocally, for the birds.
It’s unsettling. It’s frustrating. And though this condition is not my fault, it makes me feel like a failure.
Painters paint. Preachers preach. And writers write.
That’s what we do. Or supposed to, anyway.
A writer without words is like a unicorn without rainbows.
It’s unjustifiable and unacceptable.
Yet here I am.
*stares at blank page, blinking cursor*
What do you do when your inspiration for your passion is gone? Is it possible to refill a well?
What I could do is panic, or take it out on the dog, if I had a dog. I could scream WHY at the gray heavens with balled fists uplifted.
Such endeavors, however, would likely garner only odd stares from other people. And the dog.
It occurred to me yesterday, after several false starts in my “preflight journal” (the place I sketch ideas), that perhaps this uninspiredness is actually a blessing in disguise.
Suffering is often a blessing in disguise, and uninspiredness, in my experience, is most certainly suffering. In times of suffering, often God is trying to teach a lesson or prepare us for something greater.
So, what would happen if, instead of screaming why, I asked, What?
What is it I need to hear? What do I need to find that I don’t see? To learn that I don’t know?
As lousy as uninspiredness is, I am more and more convinced it has a purpose.
Much like with suffering, it is not uncommon for someone to briefly lose something key in their life for purposes greater than their own.
God took away Zechariah’s voice for a brief period so that he would be still and reflect on the One who speaks.
God took away Job’s, well, everything so that his dependence on God might grow.
As a mom, I take away lots of things – privileges, TV, toys, dinner – so that my girls might chill their little selves back into observance of the rules.
Perhaps this season of uninspiredness is really God’s way of taking away the distractions so that I might see, hear or learn whatever it is I lack.
Which is honestly quite smart of Him.
My brain is in overdrive 107% of the time. Uninspiredness does wonders for slowing that train down.
I can pick up on things I have been zooming by far too long. Maybe it’s something in myself I need to work on, or another creative outlet I have been neglecting, or a relationship that needs building. Maybe I need to stand aside for someone or something else to have prominence.
Whatever it is, I will take a posture of readiness instead of helplessness.
I trust the time will come again when ideas are tripping over themselves trying to get out of my buzzing brunette head.
Until then, I will sit. I will reflect, depend, and chill my own self back into observance.
The What, I pray, will soon be answered.
Wishing you inspiration,
Originally published on my previous blog, Find the Lovely.