What is worth writing?

The last time I tried to write words like this I was in borders. Staring out into the dark night watching the people pass and feeling as if whatever I wrote on paper would be absolute rubbish. I had the feeling that whatever came from my pen would be so unworthy of documenting on paper.

I thought of Tiger woods, I remember a movie I saw about his childhood and his entry into professional golf. At one point in his young life he wanted to give up on golf and walk away from the sport. He felt he was bored with it. I remember the words of his father. He said. “No he is right there, he is on the threshold of greatness, at this point he is going from being good to great.” Somehow I feel like that.

I am so bored with writing, I feel as if all I can ever do is right about the same things, the same unfinished thoughts. Its spring time in Washington DC and all around me beautiful sights of beautiful women and beautiful scenery excite my artistic senses and yet I wont dare grab a pencil in memory of any of it. In the city in which I live tensions of political unrest are felt, yet I wont pick up my pen. What more could a young Negro ask for? Beautiful woman, beautiful city and residing the capitol of a nation poised for changed.

Ever since I turned my heart and mind to studies of God I have felt that I have not been using my writing the correct way. This is where my feeling of emptiness comes from. It is not as if God has taken away my ability to write. It is very much there and still mine. I still write fluent letters. Yet, my desires…the desires of my heart have changed. Does that mean I find my city, the women, or political issues any less interesting? No. I don’t think a time will ever come when these three things will bore me. It is just that I don’t find them as worthy of my mind as I once did. Maturity comes to mind.

I have been attending bible study and my eyes have opened to the realization of my gifts. Communication and leadership come easy to me, yet confidence is a little harder. Be it with my mouth or hand I can teach and lead men to understand whatever it is I have to show them. I remember very vividly a memory from middle school when my English teacher told my parents that I was “manipulative.” At the time I didn’t know what that meant or what I was doing to make her say that. And time has not reveled to me what my specific manipulative actions where but I do understand that even before I knew it I could make people do my bidding. Isn’t that what a leader is? Someone who makes others perform certain actions, behave a certain way, think and realize certain things?

I thank God that in my childhood I didn’t realize a lot of things I do now. However with the realization of these gifts comes the responsibility of how to use them. Needless to say all these things and realizations come through God, so I must use them to bring him glory. Another early childhood memory was when on the elementary school playground I was called a preacher by a fellow student. I have no idea why, what I was saying but this little kid thought I reminded him of a preacher. That actually is the most common thing for me to be called by people. It would actually scare me. Preacher? You mean a speaker for God? You mean one of those men that stand up for four and five hours every Sunday shouting and sweating at people? No, no thank you. I wanted nothing to do with that type of work. Now it’s different, though I still don’t want to be a preacher. Not because of how I view preachers, I know better now. But because to be the mouth piece of God is a huge responsibility that many take too lightly.

Many preachers have lead others astray from God because of their actions on the pew and off. Many people judge God because of the actions and behaviors of those that claim they speak for him. Now how can I with this knowledge presume myself to speak for God?

The things I wrote of before don’t interest me, the thoughts I had before are rubbish to me and all the wisdom I thought I had were follies. In the Spring time I have changed, though I am not sure exactly into what.

I use to flip through history books trying to find men that I related to, to give me some idea of my place in this word. F. Scott Fitzgerald, Malcolm X, Langston Hughes and countless other great minds I would claim to be like. Now I flip through the bible and find men I identify with to try and find my place with God. Moses, Stephen, and Timothy. Moses because how uncertain he was kneeling before God. “But How can I lead these people?” Stephen because of how he was killed for his message. “Lord do not hold this sin against them.” And finally Timothy because like him I am timid and need to be reminded that God does not give the spirit of fear.

I do not think in my mind to be great men of God like those three, only that when I read about them I feel a connection, a connection stronger than I feel with Malcolm or Hughes. A connection that says like Moses I can over come and lead my people out of bondage.

And to me that’s much more important to write about than how beautiful a woman looks in the spring time as she walks down a street in Washington DC. Though…I hope God would permit me the time to admire once or twice.