I like the idea of a lot of things.
For example:
Gardening. I see people gardening and eating home-grown vegetables, and I think, I want to garden.
Cooking. I run into these people who cook organic, healthy meals for their family every night, and I think, I want to go organic and learn how to cook.
Big family. I see big families. Those mothers with a passel of kids (Hi, Jody!), two hugging their legs, another starting high school, yet another graduating, and I think, I want a big family.
Scrapbooking. I see friends who catalog every moment with their children and put all the memories into a scrapbook, and I think, I want to scrapbook.
These are things I see and think, “Yeah, I’d like to do that.”
But the idea of doing them versus the reality of doing them exists on different planets. Sure, I may want a garden, but am I really willing to sacrifice the hours spent bent over dirt, digging, planting, and watering? I may love the image of my family around the dinner table eating a home-cooked meal, but am I willing to spend the extra time in the kitchen, putting together dinners while my kid is begging for attention and I’m tired from working all day? I may like the idea of a big family, but wow, am I willing to sacrifice all that sleep, all that me-time, all that sanity?
Reality is hardly ever as glorious as the idea. Ideas are easy. Reality is hard. Ideas are pretty and pleasing. Reality can be ugly and frustrating.
A lot of people like the idea of writing a book. But not many people sit their butt in front of the computer each morning when they’re feeling tired and insecure and type word after word for 300 plus pages.
A lot of people like the idea of getting an agent and finding a publisher. But not many people care to withstand the mind-numbingly long waits, the rejection, the doubt, the naysayers.
The thing of it is, reality takes commitment. It takes stamina. It takes a passion that is alive and pulsing. Because without the passion, the commitment and stamina won’t last. I might dig up a patch of land in my backyard, even plant some seeds, but lose interest when the cucumbers don’t grow like they’re supposed to. I might buy a new recipe book and a spice rack only to watch them collect dust. You see where I’m going. Passion needs to be there.
If you’ve got the passion, it’ll keep you committed when you want to quit. It’ll keep you going when you’re exhausted.
Passion is key.
Passion is mysterious.
Passion is not in our control.
It’s not something we muster up in our own strength. It’s something God gives us, like a gift. It’s that undefinable quality, the yeast in our work, whatever that work may be, that makes it rise.
Questions to Ponder: What passions have made your ideas into realities? Do you have the passion it takes to write? Do you have the passion it takes to write for publication?