The writing critique groups I joined help my writing abilities improve and flourish. It’s like pruning a tree. The initial cutting off of branches may inflict a little trauma to the tree, but in the end the tree blooms bigger and better for it. All my wonderful critiquers point out flaws I hadn’t seen and sprinkle in some encouragement. I appreciate them for it, although there are plenty of days when I don’t know how to fix the flaws or even where to begin.
I continually ask God, are you sure I’m the one to deliver this message? Yes, I know God doesn’t need me. He could pick someone else if I don’t answer the call. I occasionally consider doing just that, but I can’t seem to avoid the call. So, I pray and ask God to hear my cry, because I can’t do what He’s asking me to do without Him. In our weakness He is made strong. This novel has God written all over it. He is infused in it. After all, it’s ultimately about trusting Him with everything.
Here I am God. I’m humbly offering myself over to you. Use me.