There once was a writer who wanted a lot—
A book on the shelf and a deal that was hot.
A following big and a blog that would boom—
And maybe an office with plenty of room.
She dreamed of the stage and the signings and such,
Of letters from readers who loved her so much.
She wanted success, and she wanted it fast,
But wondered why nothing quite seemed to last.
She asked God one night, with a tear and a plea,
“Why won’t you give all these good things to me?”
And deep in her heart came a voice soft and clear:
“You’re chasing a prize that’s not truly dear.
“You think that you need what the world says is best,
But I want you to have my peace and my rest.
You think you want claps, but you need my delight.
You should stay faithful and learn how to write.
“You need to keep going, although no one may cheer.
Just keep on trusting when the praise disappears.
Keep seeking my direction, not fortune and fame,
And always remember that you write in my name.”
The writer sat still, and her pride took a fall.
Now she knew her wants weren’t her needs after all.
She picked up her pen with a prayer in her heart—
And something new stirred as she made a fresh start.
She wrote without rushing. She wrote without fear.
What she wrote was God whispers for someone to hear.
Although she had none of the things she first sought,
She found what she needed—and loved what she got.
