Dance of Life

Breath Life Into Me

People think writing is so easy. That they can just take a pen and some paper and whatever they write down is a masterpiece because so many are reading their words. So many likes. The fame and recognition that makes you feel so high, all the way to the sky. More and more you write and perhaps that's fine if you aren't afraid of what that fame will do to you. You stop writing for you and then once that's happened...you become the dummy that writes for likes. For others. Stopped writing from the heart and only for the applause. It feels so good doesn't it? The fame- the applause - the "love" you receive by others. It's all a trap and you think you're the one that set it. You're not the trapper but you became the one trapped. 

Oh Lord how did I get myself into this?!

Looking at the past. I wrote some heck of great stories but in the end...they meant nothing. They were lifeless and the characters had no path to take...just like me. Keeping people by the thread-ending each chapter with a cliffhanger as I ignore the emptiness I actually felt. 

God, Why was I so stupid!

Things became dark and I was trapped in my mind. Fed the darkness and now writing comes hard to me. I don't know what to write about anymore. My imagination is still dark and my humor still dry. I try to do right but end up stuck on the inside. A constant battle-picking up a pen is even hard to do now. So much thoughts passes through and I feel like crying from the depths of darkness I conjure up. 

But Lord!

I know one thing I want to do. My stories, I fear, will always be broken and the characters darker than midnight. But God! My God! I want to share you. Show the brokenness and numbness but let you shine through. I want you to take the wheel and bring light into something dead. Something no one will ever see ahead unless they look at YOU. 

I love making stories up.

God, I love fiction and imagination but I also want to use these hands that seem to write them all down for YOU. Let You use them and get even one person to look towards you and find hope. Find you. 

But I fear Lord.

I fear greatly that if I do...I will be thrown back into that cycle. Wanting likes, wanting praise, empty hearts and crying soul. I don't want to be the puppet God! I don't want to write stories that have no YOU! That have nothing but pain and darkness! I fear that I will lose myself again and that is very dangerous because I do not want to lose YOU.

God. My Abbi Father in Heaven!

Can you take the pen from my hands and write this story of mine. Lead me in the straight path and keep me strong when the devil comes knocking. God. Father of all things and ruler of my life...

Can you breath life into me?