I've been working on my book since mid-March, and things were progressing well. I always met my daily word count in a reasonable amount of time, and though some days were better than others, I fell into an intense, productive groove.
Until a 50 foot concrete wall dropped in front of me. When the dust and debris cleared, I sputtered and coughed and wondered what on earth had happened. Suddenly, my inspiration vanished. My ability to think up stories, tie in meaningful spiritual truths--squashed--like a bug underneath the concrete wall.
Though I sincerely tried, I couldn't get over the wall, I couldn't plow under it, and there seemed to be no way around it. I prayed and paced and cried. Every effort failed.
Can you relate? You may not be writing a book, but maybe you are facing your own concrete wall. Maybe you've tried and prayed and paced and cried like I did.
When we're hemmed in by the unexpected, it's easy to panic and lose hope. I began to question my ability to finish my book and wondered why, in spite of all my efforts, I was getting nowhere.
Then I opened up my Bible for my nightly read, and God whispered. My frantic heart stood at attention, and I began soaking up the Truth I desperately needed to hear.
But the disciples had forgotten to bring any food. They had only one loaf of bread with them in the boat. As they were crossing the lake, Jesus warned them, “Watch out! Beware of the yeast of the Pharisees and of Herod.”
At this they began to argue with each other because they hadn’t brought any bread. Jesus knew what they were saying, so he said, “Why are you arguing about having no bread? Don’t you know or understand even yet? Are your hearts too hard to take it in? ‘You have eyes—can’t you see? You have ears—can’t you hear?’ Don’t you remember anything at all? When I fed the 5,000 with five loaves of bread, how many baskets of leftovers did you pick up afterward?”
“Twelve,” they said.
“And when I fed the 4,000 with seven loaves, how many large baskets of leftovers did you pick up?”
“Seven,” they said.
“Don’t you understand yet?” he asked them.
The very last sentence gripped me. God began revealing that His abundance is always available to me, to you, to those who believe. If Jesus was able to feed 9,000+ men, women and children with a dozen loaves of bread and a few small fish, wouldn't He be able to give me the words I need to go into a book He clearly orchestrated?
I saw that even on the days I have no words, He does. Even on the days I feel tapped out, He holds exactly what I need. He only requires that I give Him what I have.
The very next morning, the words flowed...His words. And I sat in awe.
I don't know where you are or what you are in need of, but I do know this. If we give Jesus the little we have, He will transform it into a holy surplus.