Markers

Zechariah 4:10

New International Version (NIV)

 ¹⁰ “Who dares despise the day of small things...

By Belinda


I have a ritual at Write! Canada. I love to get up early while my room mate still snoozes blissfully on; shower, dress and put on my make up. Then, trying not to wake her, I fumble around the dark room trying to remember where I left things the night before, feeling my way over unfamiliar furniture until my fingers find what I am looking for: my Bible, Daily Light, and journal.

Clutching my precious bundle of books and my room key, I unlock the door as quietly as I can and tiptoe down the hallway and into the long, almost empty lounge. 

There are usually one or two other early risers there in the dim morning light, fingers quietly tapping away at laptops. I find my own quiet corner with a seat turned away from others. 

This is always a time when I feel so close to God--a time set apart, away from the distractions of home--the mental "to do" list tempting me to just start the laundry or water the plants before sitting down with God--and then too often, I don't.
 
In my Daily Light on Saturday morning, I almost missed it, this verse underlined the previous year: Zechariah 4:10, "Who dares despise the day of small things... 

Oh...Is that what I have been doing? "Despising" the "small thing" that I consider my writing? I catch the gentle rebuke and I think back to the plenary of the night before. 

Grace Fox spoke to the 200 writers gathered in the sanctuary, about the journey that she describes in her book, Moving from Fear to Freedom. 

I had my note book with me--I was on the lookout for any "markers" that God might send my way.

These are some things that she said that caught my attention:


If God is in your writing then don't stop until he tells you to.

God can do anything he wants when we just say "Yes"

Jesus commands my destiny!

I will accomplish what concerns you.


My pen scribbled furiously.


And then she quoted this verse:

John 12:49-50
New International Version (NIV)

⁴⁹ For I did not speak on my own, but the Father who sent me commanded me to say all that I have spoken. ⁵⁰ I know that his command leads to eternal life. So whatever I say is just what the Father has told me to say.”

Although I've read that verse many times, I suddenly recognized that the title of this blog is hidden within them, even though it isn't the verse the blog title "Whatever He Says," comes from, (which is John 2:5.)


I felt like I had my marker. The servant is not above the Master;  if Jesus depended so entirely upon his Father, that was my key mistake lately; allowing life to consume me; running too fast to sit at his feet and allow his presence to soak into my soul and into my writing. It was no accident that I found myself adrift. I had truly lost my moorings for a while.


Grace, who insists that she was once shy, spoke with the fire of the Holy Spirit flowing through her to us.  


She was a living example of what she writes about in her book, Moving from Fear to Freedom and she said that God equips her to do what he has called her to do. I loved this--she said that we need to "Do it afraid."

Grace wrote recently on the topic of fear of failure. A friend had given her a greeting card that said, “Attempt something large enough that failure is guaranteed unless God steps in.” She said that is the way she has chosen to live her life. Wow!


I sat in the front row of the Irwin Room (the sanctuary,) blown away as ever other person in the room was, and I cried, wondering why I had chosen to sit in so visible a spot. I don't cry "prettily." :


I would have been good to go at that point. It felt as though God had spoken to me clearly through this dear and inspiring woman who described hearing him speak as "an icicle dropping on her head."

But then...on Saturday...it was the last hour of the conference. We all gathered for the last time in the Irwin Room to hear the last plenary address, by N.J. LIndquist, the co-founder of The Word Guild. Our bags were packed and already in our vehicles. In the air hung hopes, dreams and gratitude, and sadness at saying goodbye. We were all overflowing with the gifts of the past two and a half days, so very thankful for every minute. 
On the way in we separated our name tags from the plastic holders, saving the holders to be re-used next year. Our name tags themselves went into a basket. The final exciting moment is a draw for one person to get free registration for next year's conference.

The moment came, a name was drawn. "Belinda Burston of Bond Head," was the winner! 

And I think an icicle fell from the ceiling and hit me on the head.