Laura Pappas photo by Layla Pappas

I’m a bit fickle.  It’s a sign of discontent, I suppose, of not having my satisfaction resting in Christ. After all God’s work in me lately, I find myself in doubt of my value to His kingdom.  As much as I know it’s wrong, I compare myself to other women I admire, wives, moms, writers, musicians, artists; every book I read or song I hear where I think “Oh she’s saying exactly what I feel, only expressing it so much better.”  I forget who created me.  I begin to desire this woman’s voice, or her wisdom, or her writing style and accomplishments and I forget God’s promises to me. My fickle heart wants what they have, wants to be where they are, wants to be other than that which I am. It doesn’t stem from a surplus of humility; it is unbelief. It’s not believing that God made something special in me too, not believing in the goodness of our Father. It means I’ve taken my eye off the prize, which is Christ, and found something shiny and new to long for. How easily I forget who I am in Christ and the promise of my Father that I am enough and am already loved.  I gaze on that which is different from me and think that they are more valuable, that I am missing out on something, as if there were anything better to wish for than the treasure of Christ Himself. How quickly I’m led astray from the lessons He’s taught me, from the beauty He’s shown me, from the love He reveals in me; a fickle girl who forgets how blessed she already is.

I haven’t liked anything I’ve written lately. The tone is all wrong and everything is missing that spark of life from the Spirit. I’ve been praying but still no spark for writing anything I’d want to share. A few days ago He pressed me to respect that which He’s already given me. Truth be told, I couldn’t remember much of what I’d written. I usually read and reread obsessively what I’ve written before and for the first few days after posting something, checking for clarity and to be sure I can stand by what’s written. But then I move on and ask ask ask for more. The same is true with music, I write, rewrite, practice and record, at which point I hardly ever play the song again. I give far more value to anything which wasn’t done by me, those songs I memorize and practice for years. Maybe because they are better or maybe because I don’t understand the purpose of my own creativity. Is the writing itself the goal? Is the song or story the end result of my walk with Christ?  If anything other than Christ Himself is what I’m seeking, then haven’t I made a religion of my work and an idol out of His gifts? I have to be reminded that it isn’t about the gift, it’s about the Giver – let my focus and joy always be Him.

Asking for more but being told to go back doesn’t make sense to my logical mind. Realizing I need to turn my focus to Christ but being pressed to look at the fruit of my labors seems a paradox. I decided to try it anyways. So I’ve been cataloguing, from various notebooks and devices, the ideas, poems, songs, and bits of understanding waiting to be fully thought out and prayed over. I’m steadily organizing and caring for that which He has already given.  And it shouldn’t still surprise me that God knows exactly what He’s doing when He asks something of me in response to my prayers-

when He requires me to be part of the answering-

when He isn’t giving me what I asked for but gives me what I needed all the same.

When I follow through in faith, then the purpose is revealed and the prayer is answered. Because in looking over what I’ve already written, I see Him. I see the work He’s doing in and through me and I can’t wish that I were anyone else, or that my words were any fancier than they are, because He is loving me right here, and I am who I am for a reason. I’m reassured that my writing itself only has value in that it is a representation of the life that Christ is building in me. It isn’t the songs and stories, it’s the relationship with my Savior that is the fruit of my labors. I can’t say this with pride, only with thankfulness that God is at work, that He is faithful though I am fickle. He answers prayer and fulfills His promises. So my eyes are fixed on Him once again, the flame lit to tell you all about it.