Writing is like crossing the streets of India

I traveled to Hyderabad, India recently and we had one day of sightseeing and shopping in the city. This city had streets like no other in the USA. Though two lanes of traffic were designated, at least four lanes of traffic ensued, in all directions. If there was a light signal, it was merely a suggestion, but one that was never followed. In intersections, four lanes of traffic moved in all directions at one time: cars veered left at the same time vehicles charged forward, all the time while people and wild dogs attempted to cross the street, which we did.

A group of five of us women headed to a salwar store late one evening so we’d look beautiful for the upcoming Republic Day ceremony. Usha, a native, escorted us. We were merely two street crossings away from the beautiful salwars. She instructed us to hold one hand up, grab hold of the person next to us and follow her across. Well, cars flew by in all directions as she held her hand up and stepped into the oncoming traffic. The others followed. I did not. Cars weren’t stopping! Usha looked back and saw me standing on the side, “Jill, you have to cross with us!” I couldn’t move, so they returned for me.

“But the rickshaws are flying by.” I replied. “They aren’t stopping.”

“They aren’t going to stop,” She answered sternly. “Just follow me.”

I grabbed hold of a friend as I held up my hand and we boldly strode into the crazy peril. I held my breath as cars flew around us. When I thought we were securely across, I let out my breath and released hold of my friend only to have a motor scooter whirl a left turn directly in front of me. I screamed in startlement as he laughed mockingly at me. I was scolded once again for letting my guard down too early. Too early? We’d made it to the side walk. Didn’t matter.

One more street to cross. Usha grabbed my arm and instructed me to stay with her. I threw up my hand, allowed her to escort me through the zooming rickshaws, motor scooters, dogs and cars till we arrived safely to the storefront of the clothing store.

Later I realized this is just like writing!

God convicts us with an idea to write. We either agree to write it or we don’t. When we agree, we throw up our hand in a commitment to write, grab hold of him and charge forward. All the while, Satan is shooting his blazing arrows at us: Arrows of discouragement, of accusations, of comparisons. “Who do you think you are writing this?” “You’re not qualified.” “Look at all the others getting published. You’re not like them.” Oh, Satan is just like those rickshaws, motor scooters and vehicles threatening to take us down, but we must hold onto the one who knows the way. Satan may laugh and sneer but we must allow God to grab hold of us and lead us safely to the other side. We must believe that the One who convicts us to write a story will empower us to see it through.

We had a great time shopping. Some women purchased several beautiful salwars, and others purchased just one. I, however, did not find any that fit me or that I could make work on me. And isn’t that just like writing, as well? Some stories will make it to publication, some will not. Some are meant to be shared with others close to us, or to strengthen our relationship and trust in God or for our own personal growth. We just have to be obedient and let Him direct the outcomes.

Don’t hesitate to jump in with an idea He has planted in your heart. If I had stayed on the sidewalk and never crossed over, I’d have missed the whole experience. Jump in with both feet, make the commitment and hold onto God. Those fiery arrows will fall on the ground around you and miss you completely if you cling to the One who knows the way.