I remember as a kid being fascinated with words. I loved their feel as they rolled around on my tongue. I loved their slender shapes sprawled on the page. In fact, I became so enamored with words that by junior high I would sneak a dictionary into my room and spend the afternoon reading nothing but words.
Words like defervescence and boride and academe. Words like penicillamine and featherstitch and quire. And thus, is it any wonder my favorite book was The Phantom Tollbooth, by Norman Juster? (Which, by the way, if you've not read you simply must!)
But in the midst of all these wondrous words, I began to feel smaller and smaller. In the midst of their power, I began to doubt my ability to string them together in stories people would want to read. I still wonder that at times. Do you?
Yet, there is a special something deep in my heart that tells me the God of our spirits feels otherwise. He, who creates universes, knows a thing or two about the import of creativity. And He fashioned us in His image. Do I (or perhaps you) really think He would fail to tuck away within us the creative gift? Could it be possible we, in this one area, are NOT like our Father in Heaven?
I think not! Thus, the next time I feel impotent in my ability to self-express, I will shun the thought. And I hope you will, too. We are created in God's image ... and as such, we have the gift of creativity. We have the right to write! May we use that gift well, working with all these wondrous words.