Books & Writing

I Might Just Be an Embezzler

embezzlement11It’s been awhile since I’ve posted a confession. I wrote several confession posts back at SWYW, but not lately. So here goes.

I confess that I’m an embezzler.

There, that feels good to get that load off my back. Now, of course, I’m not talking about an embezzler of money, as in a bookkeeper who steals a little here and there. Allow me to explain.

I’ve been studying Luke’s gospel, with the aid of a commentary by Tom Wright, and I realized what I really am when I read this verse a few days ago:

When someone has been given much, much will be required in return; and when someone has been entrusted with much, even more will be required. -Luke 12:48 (NLT)

See, in many respects, I feel like I’m that one who’s been entrusted with much, but in all honesty—although, if I were a real embezzler, I might have a padded back account but I’d be lacking in the honesty department—I’m not following through with my responsibility. For instance, I’ve really struggled lately with the book I’m writing, and I shared this with a writer friend. I believe God spoke through her when she, unaware as she was, asked if I was remembering the goal for my project, and even more importantly, whether I was making sure God would be glorified with the end result. I had to admit that I’d lost sight of my purpose and begun to shape the story how I wanted it to be.

I posted a little while back the prologue to my book, and I may have mentioned then that it’s a memoir of sorts. What has really thrown me off is my desire to write fiction. Memoirs aren’t supposed to be fiction, but mine was moving in that direction. See, one of my favorite scenes in even my earliest drafts is a scene I recreated, one that didn’t necessarily happen the way I described it, but one that was more a combination of conversations and events. I so loved that scene that I thought I should write more of them. Sometimes that’s okay in writing from memory about past events, because often our memories do their best to reconstruct scenes with the bits and pieces we actually recall. But I felt convicted that I need to tell the story, not blatantly make up parts.

There’s so much more God has been speaking to me as I’ve been meditating on that passage in Luke, but I think I’ll just share the one. Really, because I don’t have the time to expound on it more, since I needed to get back to the book and make some edits. Pray for me, would you? I do want to communicate what God is impressing on my heart, and I don’t want to get in the way of what he wants to say.

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