"Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning." -James 1:17
I'm so excited and nervous about all of this. My friends could tell you exactly what I'm like right now. My texts to them are usually like "AGHH WHAT IF IT'S TERRIBLE!" or "GAAAHHH WHAT IF THE EIDTOR HATES IT!" and "GUYS, GUYS, GUYS I HAD A NIGHTMARE ABOUT MY BOOK BEING BURNED."
Okay, maybe not the last one, but suffice to say, this is a totally new experience for me. A wonderful one, but also rather nerve-racking. I would not have this opportunity however, if it weren't for God.
As the verse above states, this gift has come from the Lord. Not only the gift of finishing a book, but also the gift of a talent. It's because He allows me the ability to write that I've ever penned out a word, and He can take it away just as easily. I learned that the hard way.
I've always liked writing. When I was a little girl, I'd sit in a tree, scribble out some little poems, and proudly showing them to my mom, but I didn't get serious about writing until I was 12. My 7th grade teacher wrote in my report card (I still have it XD) that I was a very good writer and she spent the year helping me develop in that area. With her help, I won a composition contest with a manuscript titled "The Memoirs of Paul Revere" We moved away after my 7th grade year, but I did not stop writing. I moved on to poetry, and most of them were sad and tragic due to my melodramatic 13 and 14 year old mind. Though come to think of it, they haven't changed much. ;)Now, of course I wanted to write a book someday but I just never got up the nerve to hop to it. Well, we moved again (yeah, um, we move a lot) and from the time when I was 14 and to soon after I turned 15, the Lord worked on my heart. That was a hard year for me, because I was trying to "figure out who I was" and attempting to get past a lot of mistakes I had made. I lost my "child-like faith" and I was no longer sure if God was real. When I did figure out that He is most certainly there, and that He is the creator of all things, I had another question. "What if I am not one of His children?"
As you can imagine, that's a rough and uncomfortable question. So like a lot of us do with those sort of things, I avoided it. I ran way like Jonah did, and tried to lose myself in other things. I tried to shove that question
"What if I am not one of His own?" out of my mind with the words that spilled out of my pen.
Then, I discovered something.
I could no longer write.
Now, I don't mean I couldn't form letters and write my name. I mean that all my inspiration and all of my creativity was suddenly just... gone.
That freaked me out, but now as I look back, I can clearly see God's hand in that. It was like He was saying;
"Lydia, you are going to face Me, and I have no problem taking this away until you do."
The next three months were bad. That question just haunted me. I had been raised in a strong Christian home, so I knew exactly who God was, but I had yet to feel a connection with Him. I had never gone through that experience of knowing that I was a dirty little worm in God's sight and that only Christ's blood could cleanse me. I had never repented of my sins and been made whole until...
It was June 10th, 2013, on a Monday. We had been recording the series "The Bible" from the History Channel, and we were catching up. We only had one episode left to watch, and it was where Jesus was crucified on the cross.
I watched them beat Him and spit in His face. I watched as the people screamed "Crucify Him! Crucify Him!"
And as I watched the hammer fall and ram the nails into My Saviors hands I knew. I knew that the man on the cross was my Savior. That He was doing this for me. He was paying the ultimate price for my sins. I had put the best man who ever walked this earth on the cross. I had screamed "Crucify Him! Crucify Him!" along with the crowd, and I had laughed and jeered at Him. My King. My Lord.
Overwhelming guilt flooded through me, and I was sobbing in our living room. And then?
I was cleansed.
I was made pure by the hand of God.
When I had put His only Son on the cross.
I was white as snow, and I'm not kidding. I am not making this up. Satan was booted out of my heart forever, and the Holy Spirit filled me.
After finishing out the episode, I went to my room, and I shut the door. I took out my notebook and my pen and I wrote a letter to my parents telling them of my wish to be baptized the next Sunday. It was about four or five pages long and I cried all over it. Leaving it on my parents bed, I waited for them to read it. When they did, they took me to our pastors office and he agreed that it was time for me to be baptized.
June 16th, 2013. Baptism day. The next thing I had written was my testimony to present to the church. I was lowered into the water and up again. The verses of a hymn kept playing in my head "Up from the grave He arose!"
So you see, writing has all ready had a major hand in my life. God has used it to lead me into His arms by taking it away, and He has guided me throughout the year and blessed me by giving it back.
I have many dreams in my heart right now. There are so many things I can and will do with the guidance of God. It has been only a year since I was born again and He has already helped me do something amazing.