Any talent we have is a gift from You. If we write, sing, paint, draw, or play an instrument, lo que sea, all of these good things come from You. We may get to be blessed with them for a lifetime or for a season.

I acknowledged that today as I took an evening stroll around the lake. I have learned to say, ‘I write’, but now I understand that I only get to do that because You have allowed me to. This impulse that drives me and has been my companion through thick and thin for so many years, has been just a gift that You chose to bless me with.

Today I stop, and not only do I thank You for the gift, I examine it and think how I haven’t used it as if it were on loan to me. I have treated it as if it is just a part of me that I have to expand. I am somewhat ashamed that I haven’t properly nourished what You entrusted me with.

I confess that I haven’t given the gift room to grow even as I was growing. While every other part of my life was breaking down, being seeds that fell to the ground and died so that there could be new growth, I told the gift of writing (that You gave me) to operate only in what it already knew.

I am not the same person I was when I realized the first, second, or even the third time that You had given me something I didn’t know I had. So, how could I expect that my writing would be the same today as it was ten years ago when I had a different last name and my life was as night and day compared to what it is now?

These days I’ve been struggling, trying to figure out how to bring it along with me along my growth trajectory, but I keep bucking up against a wall that is frustrating enough to cause me to give up and say I’ve had enough of this! Sometimes the struggle is so real that I just want to throw in the towel and figure out how to go through life like so many people who feel no compunction to write about the things they see, feel, experience, and learn.

So, tired of struggling, I come back to You with the gift You gave me, and I show it to You. I don’t know what to do with it anymore. I tell You that You can have it back because I’ve lost my way and it looks tattered and smushed to me. It doesn’t look anything like when I was so excited about it. I’ve changed too much, been hurt too much, experienced too much, have seen too much. I don’t know how to use the gift in this place that You have brought me to.

It hurts to even say this, but I know it is what has to be done. I have come to think of writing as who I am and what I do, but the truth is, it is simply a gift from You; it is not my identity. If You choose to take it away and give me something else to express Your love through, then that’s cool too. And as I write these words and release the gift back to You I am amazed that I feel such freedom. Why hold onto something that isn’t You? Why try to find my identity in the gift instead of the Giver?

And I realize that even here I feel safe with You. Yes, I know now that I can live the rest of my life without writing another word, because my hope is in You, not in the talents or gifts You choose to give me, whether for a lifetime or a season. I give the gift back to You Lord, and say that You can have it back; but if You choose to leave it with me, well, would You pour out Your Spirit on me in a refreshing way so that we can take this to another level?

This is me letting go, and submitting to whatever You want to do, Lord. And so I lay down another vestige of my old life. This gift that You gave me for a time when I needed it is being given back to You to do with as You please. Whatever You want to do is fine by me.

©Debbie Mendoza, May 2019

Debbie Mendoza is the author of

 Exodus: A Journey Through Divorce.

Available on Amazon.

Also by this author: JoyHope – A Christian Daily Devotional. Ebook available on Amazon.

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