I sit silent, alone, completely enthralled by the page before me. A blank page… a blinking cursor… endless possibility. Sitting in a room full of talking people or in a corner booth at the coffee shop makes no difference. Whether I’m surrounded by laughter and sunshine or sitting alone in the dark fighting back tears doesn’t matter, either. In happiness and sorrow, joy and pain, triumph and failure, the draw of a blank page is never lessened.
What is so entrancing about that clean, white expanse? As my fingers begin to rapidly tap away at the keyboard, a thrill rushes through my body. This is such an adventure! Who knows what may appear next. A mystery, a revelation, an insight… anything could happen. And yet it can be such a struggle… searching desperately for the perfect word, looking for the clearest way to express an idea, trying to turn confused and jumbled thoughts into something beautiful.
Like so many things in life, writing brings great joy. But it can bring pain as well. Do I write because it’s easy? I should say not, for if that were my reason, I would have given up long ago. I write because it’s worth it. I write to try to say something. I write in hopes of sharing some of what God has been teaching me. And I write because I can’t help it. The page constantly calls me back, enticing me with the potential it holds.
Maybe I’m just crazy. Maybe I should be able to escape the lure of writing. Or maybe this is something I’m supposed to be doing. Could it be that God is calling me to share my thoughts, that He will use somehow use them to bless or encourage someone? How wonderful to think that perhaps He will use my little scribblings for His glory! With that thought in my mind, how could I have any hope of escaping the draw of the page?