Sarah D. Shearer

This may come as a surprise to you, but writing is really quite difficult for me.

Yes, you probably scroll past my lengthy instagram captions and doubt this heartily, but  it’s the truth.

Some of you know I am writing a book. I have been writing a book my entire life, it seems. My first story is written in a peach-colored notebook from Big Lots. I started writing it when I was probably ten. It was called Lydia’s Heart. In my child-like mind, it was going to be a hit. By the way, Lydia is still my  favorite name and will most likely be the name of my first daughter. But I digress.

Writing  is in my bones. It’s something I have to do. I love it, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not really a matter of  whether I love to write that keeps me coming back to my dunder mifflins. Writing is simply part of who God created me to be, and I have to do it like I have to breathe in and out each moment.

Is this making any sense?

There is something God put inside of you. Something that makes you, you. You feel alive when you do this, while simultaneously you find yourself terrified of what would happen if you totally devoted yourself to it. Would people like it? Would it be worth the cost, the sacrifice? It’s awfully difficult to be fully alive, doing what God created you do. It requires something grand of you. It requires you to be fully yourself, and be okay if not everybody likes your thing.

This book I’m writing is painful for me because it’s the story of my life, and it’s basically a lifelong journal of some incredibly profound experiences. It requires me to be all in, fully there, fully Sarah. 

Wouldn’t it be wild if God created his children, hardwiring with them fierce passions and skills and abilities, things which ignite your soul in a deep and raw way, and he intended you to use these things to reflect his glory to a world in desperate need of something, of someone authentic?

And wouldn’t it be crazy if that just terrified the enemy of our souls? If his greatest fear was us being fully alive, devoted to glorifying God through the things we love to do, the things we must do. What if he wanted nothing more than to deprive you of you?

If all this is true, I have to write, because it is my greatest weapon against a pathetic devil. You have to sing. You have to paint. You have to sculpt. You have to play the piano. You have to dance. You absolutely must do that thing, even when you are scared, especially when you are scared. People need to hear you. They need to see you. Fear is stupid.

I have recently stepped out in my other area of deep passion, which is Spanish interpreting.  I love it with all my heart, and I am terrified of failing at it. But guess what, I’m doing it. And it’s building my faith in huge ways. It’s helping me see I’m more capable than I thought I was. Only by the grace of God. Only  through his power. All for his glory.

Do that thing.

I’m a writer. What are you?