It’s been an interesting week. I hardly left the house (except for Husband’s birthday dinner), didn’t talk much (except to family at said birthday dinner), and I don’t think I even cooked a real meal (thank you, Swiss Chalet, for said birthday dinner). As a matter of fact, the first two days of the week were spent in undeniable frustration as I stared at the cursor flashing on my blank computer screen, waiting for a breakthrough.
The definition of breakthrough is this: the act or instance of removing or surpassing an obstruction or restriction.
I realized something. Before there is a breakthrough, there has to be a block. In other words, get rid of the block. Smash it. Crush it. And plow through.
In my case, it wasn’t so easy. I’m pretty sure the block was a reinforced concrete wall several feet thick. My efforts to poke a hole through that were like trying to put out a fire with a thimbleful of water. Useless. Futile. And completely disheartening.
In the midst of my frustration, I noticed my Bible under a pile of other books and papers on my desk. This was on Wednesday, and I’m ashamed to say that I had not opened it since the previous Sunday. Flooded with a sense of remorse, I pulled it out and opened to the book of Hebrews. On purpose. I remembered reading a quote that went something like this: Our most important mental talent is the ability to imagine what has never existed. The quote came from a secular source, but the underlying truth matches up with Hebrews 11:1, which says, Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.
The quote cites mental talent. The Bible cites faith.
The light came on. I had been going about seeking breakthrough the wrong way.
I was relying on my so-called mental talent instead of using my faith in the Creator of heaven and earth. I sat back in my chair and chewed on that for a while. I spent the next hour or two reading through the whole book of Hebrews, praying, thinking, taking stock of my situation, and praying some more. Then, in a flood – honestly, a flash flood – the concrete wall fell and the breakthrough was right there.
I wrote over 5,000 words that day and another 4,000 the next. Yesterday, I worked on backstory and visuals. I am so pleased with how it’s coming!
But here’s the secret. Before I even open my docx files, I open my Bible. I read. I pray. Often. Without ceasing. And when I am ready to write, the words flow as if the story is writing itself.
It’s not my talent. It’s my faith.
The secret of breakthrough.