Well, I'm happy to say I'm spending this weekend with several writer friends - Marybeth Whalen, Mary DeMuth, Lisa Whittle, Lisa Shea and Alice Whistler - doing just that. We congregated at this beach house yesterday on the southern coast of NC - the setting for Marybeth's novel The Mailbox which just released. Have you gotten it yet??
This morning before our writing session began, Alice opened our day with a devotion. And a short writing assignment. We were each handed a note card and asked to write one single word that comes to mind when we think of the NC coastline. I wrote down the word "home." Then we passed the cards back to Alice and she redistributed them, ensuring we didn't get our own word. Our task was to take the word given us and, in 2-3 minutes, fill the front of the card with whatever came to mind with the word we received. We each began silently scribbling down thoughts with our pens.
My card said "sand." And this is what I wrote:
Sand ... A billion tiny particles, each one small as a mustard seed, each able to be brushed from the back of your leg with the flick of your wrist. But together, they hold back the ocean in its place. They cushion the fall of toddlers, beach balls and lovers alike. They give shelter to crabs, mollusks, and imaginary knights in child-made castles. Individually they can do nothing - much like us apart from God - but together they are glorious enough to be worth the drive.
With that line I reached the end of my card space -- and with that thought, the end of myself. Which is a good place to be when you sit down to write for his glory.
Off to write - hoping that if you find the end of yourself today, you also discover that God is right there ready to be more than enough for what you lack, need or do.
Thankful for sand.