As a writer, I need the fellowship of others. The people I hang with are often the ones in the photo here—marble statues at museums or characters in my imagination.
Since I spend a lot of my time at home writing on my computer or researching for a book, I actually have to schedule my “see people” time. I won’t do it otherwise. I am quite content to stay connected to my muse and write for hours.
However, I have learned that it is essential as a writer to interact regularly with others. Isolation may get the work done, but it is not conducive to good writing. Pretty soon my creative juices dry up and my characters begin to seem wooden and lifeless. It is a careful balance I must keep.
There is beauty in the strangeness of things created in the world. Oddities abound– strange flowers, strange fruit, strange beasts, and even stranger humans. Strangeness is arresting–you have to stop and look. You can’t accept what your eyes see.
Each of us is different, unique in the world. No one else is like you. You are the creation of an infinite God whose creativity is infinite. Did you ever wonder why snowflakes are unique? If a perfect pattern is created, why not keep reproducing it over and over? Why the need for incomparable designs?
Think about fingerprints. Each is different, enough so that a person can be identified by the oily impressions left behind by touch. And then, of course, there is the mother of all identifiers: DNA. Scientific discoveries continually tell us that we are created completely unique to all others.
I heard a sermon on Sunday about forgiveness and only gave it half a listen. I had forgiven everyone who had ever wronged me. When I became a Christian at 17, I learned how important it was to forgive people quickly for a deep spiritual life.
I didn’t think I was harboring a grudge or hanging on to past hurts and injustices. I’d forgiven all those who had wronged me long ago — hadn’t I? Then why couldn’t I shake the feeling that there were deep roots of bitterness in my heart?