I began spending so much time at my laptop doing research and writing, that I was spending less time reading the Bible. Days would go by where I didn’t read at all. Sitting in church, all I could think about was my books, and I was starting to not care about spiritual things.
Then one night, God had a talk with me. Now obviously, God wasn’t verbally speaking to me, but as I lay in bed that night, unable to sleep, I felt as if God whispered in my heart. “Do you love me more than your writing?”
I didn’t want God to think that I wasn’t spiritual, so I quickly responded with a “Yes! Of course I love you more than my writing!”
“Then why can’t you spend even ten minutes a day with me? Why are you always at your laptop?” The still small voice asked.
I tossed and turned. This was not the kind of conversation that I wanted to have late Saturday night. “You know that I love you,” I insisted.
“If you really love me, then stop writing.”
“No! I’m not giving up my writing!” I argued back. “You’re the one that called me to write! You’re the one that gave me my dreams and allowed me to get my laptop.” I promised to make more time to read the Bible and pray, but God ignored my pathetic arguments. He just held out his hand and asked for my laptop.
I promised not to write for at least a week, but that didn’t work. God wanted me to quit writing forever.
Tears streamed down my cheeks. “I can’t give you my writing!”
In that moment, I realized that if I didn’t let go, my writing would mean nothing. If God wasn’t blessing me, I would never have a chance at fulfilling my dreams of being published.
I was confused. Why would God take this away from me when He was the one that gave it to me? Despite all my arguing, God still held out His hand.
I began to physically tremble as I realized who I was arguing with. God Almighty, who was giving me my every breath, was asking me to yield one area of my life to Him, and I was saying no.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Okay, God, you can have my writing.” A wave of peace washed over me. Here I had been so worried that God would make me miserable, and I hadn’t even realized that I was the one making myself miserable.
First thing the next morning, I grabbed my laptop, and all of my USB flash drives, and headed downstairs. I knew that if I didn’t get rid of my USB flash drives with my books, then I could go back to them even without the laptop.
I set my laptop and the flash drives on the entryway floor, and started looking for a sledge hammer. That’s when Mom came in and asked me what I was doing.
“I’m going to smash my laptop,” I said.
“Why? Is there something wrong with it?” she asked.
“It’s too important to me,” was all I could say without breaking down in tears.
My wise mother told me to put my laptop in her room and go get ready for church.
At first, I was mad. Here I was trying to give it to God and Mom stepped in and stopped me.
I had another small argument with God but, like always, He won. I felt genuinely happy for the first time in weeks.
I don’t remember what the sermon was about that morning but it caused another fight in my heart.
“When you get home, I want you to write.”
I felt sure that I had misheard the still small voice. God couldn’t possibly have changed His mind so fast! But the thought kept coming back. I fought it. “God, I gave it to you! I don’t want to ever touch my laptop again!”
But God just repeated the command. I was reminded of the verse in 2 Corinthians 5:15 “And that he died for all, that they which live should NOT henceforth live unto themselves, BUT UNTO HIM which died for them, and rose again.” It was as if God was saying. “You were writing for yourself, and so I stopped you, but now that you’ve given it to me, I want you to write for me.”
I went home and started writing again but, this time, it wasn’t for me. I still struggle with making sure that my writing doesn’t become too important to me. It’s a struggle because I REALLY love writing! But I’ve learned that no matter how much I love writing, or how much it means to me, it can never become more important than my daily devotions. I can write hard, but I have to pray harder.