Let Us Not Grow Weary of Doing Good

3:35 PM

A writer was not my first career choice. Wife and mom was my first and still a dear dream, but in my early teens, I decided to I wanted to be a nurse. I liked to write, but it wasn't until my late teens, and with a lot of tears, I realized that I would never be able to handle a nursing job, much less college. It was then that writing became my focus.

Here we are, ten years later and I'm healthier than I was then, probably healthier than I've been in my whole life. Yet. I'm still not a very strong person physically. A have a lot of pollen allergies, and I don't have the same amount of energy that my siblings do.

Why am I going on about this? Well, because when I'm physically at a low, often that causes me also to struggle emotionally. Physical and emotional wellness are often more tied together than we think. Girls especially understand the swells of emotion that rise even from normal ups and downs. Recently, ragweed has caused me to be at a physical low, and discouragement has seeped in.

I've especially felt discouraged in my writing. I feel like I'm putting in a lot of effort with not a lot to show for it. Yesterday, I woke up crunching numbers in my head. I spent my time working fending off a headache. I came home and sat down to write and questioned why I was even doing it. Why did I bother to write when I didn't feel like it? Maybe it was time I treated my writing more like a hobby and less like a job.

Even as the thoughts were swirling in my head, I knew that they weren't healthy thoughts. It was my tiredness, my discouragement taking at best, the enemy whispering his lies at worst. I stopped, prayed, and then turned up the music as I started typing away at a book. A song came up fairly soon and I had to stop and let it wash over me.

After some time of just worshiping my savior, I started back at my writing. I don't normally write to music that has words, but I ended up listening to this song on repeat over and over again. It actually tied very nicely with the ending of the novella I was writing.

I keep going back to that verse that says let us not grow weary of doing good because in due season we will reap a harvest. I've grown up around farms for a long time. I know that the time between planting and harvest is a long time and full of lots of nail-biting, prayers, and frustration. It was no accident that this analogy was used when saying don't grow weary of doing good.

Now, saying don't and actually not growing weary are different things. I've found that the only way to not grow weary is to force myself to turn my eyes toward the goal, Christ, and to remind myself of the purpose He laid on my heart.

What do you do when you are growing weary of doing good?

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