Low Ebb

In recent days, I received some vexing news about a significant writing endeavor. Since then, I’ve worked on three different blog posts which I’ve abandoned thinking them half baked, and the screenplay I’d started sits idling on my computer. The news seems to have halted all my creative processes and cracked the door for old familiar thoughts--things like, “If you were a real writer, this wouldn’t have happened,” or “You’re just an imposter,” or “Why don’t you just give up, you’re wasting your time.” Then there’s my personal favorite, “You’re just going to embarrass yourself, your friends, and your family.”

So here I am, face down in the sand feeling as if the tide has gone out—never to return.

The Lord has given me a couple of messages which I believe relate to the situation. He’s told me not to fret and has given me a verse from Psalm 23, “He makes me to lie down in green pastures.”

What have I been doing?

Fretting and trying to figure out what I can do to fix the problem.

But, of course, fretting only makes my gastritis worse, and there’s nothing I can do.

Truly, nothing.

I don’t think I can find a green pasture, because they’ve all been bitten back by the cycling arctic blasts we’ve had this winter. But, I do have a green blanket on the sofa in my office. I think I may take my low ebb and plop right down on top of it--an unheard of thing for me to do in the middle of the day.

If you hear the sirens blaring, and the ambulance racing by, you’ll know my family called 911.

Perhaps there’s a wave out there with my name on it, but it’s up to God to bring it to shore. Meanwhile, I’m asking Him to help me rest… even and especially at low ebb.