If you are a writer, I hope you enjoy this letter.
To A Young Writer
I enjoyed F.'s response to you [in an earlier
letter]. I hope you will be encouraged and
write, and write, and write. I think we all should
"fan into a flame the gift of God that is within
Writing is one skill that improves with age and
practice. With the Spirit of God assisting, it ages
better than rich wine. I think my early works
were far too sweet; the later ones had some
acid and tannin to balance out the taste.
Writers perhaps weave a tapestry, of thoughts
warm and soft to my cheeks... I snuggle with
their thoughts at night, and fall asleep repeating
Writers perhaps paint with words, and help me
to see a moment in time far clearer than before.
I wonder how I "missed" that 'moment'
before... but now the scene the writer painted,
walks through my mind, as if alive.
Writers speak from the heart. Even when their
characters are fictitious; even when the location
is fantasy; I think I see a piece of the writer's
heart in every character, and in every locale.
There are writers of haiku-style, that give a
picture in so few words. There are writers of
short-short stories that take only 1 or 2 pages to
convey a scene in time. There are writers, I
suppose, of novel-length as well. It is all art. It
is all tapestry. It is all paint.
And one day, the writing is from your heart.
And then, that day, you touch the souls next to
you so deeply.
And you'll hear their applause.
And you, dear one, will know joy.
You are now a "writer".
But another day, the writing is from the Spirit of
And then, the audience will forget your name.
They will forget the source.
They will not clap even once.
But they will have touched the hem of His
They will be healed by Him.
And you, forgotten writer, will have
treasure in heaven.
You are now a "servant".
"And Jesus rose up, wrapped a towel about
himself, and began to wash his disciples' feet..."
No matter the gift; no matter the skill;
if I fail to take the towel into my hands;then I have failed Him....
if I hide my eyes from the dirt that is upon
if I forget to handle their feet gently and
with His water;
For to me, the test of the gift is not pen upon the
no, the test of the gift is knees upon the floor -
with a towel.
Much love in Christ always and unconditionally;
(c) Copyright Caryn LeMur 2007
|The Collection of Short Works,
Letters, and Poems
To A Young Writer
I wrote to encourage a young
writer in her craft.
After all, many canvases are
botched badly in the beginning
years of writing. We paint with
words too broadly; we lack rhythm
in the balance of the terms; and
we often provide insufficient
We even may preach rather than
show our own wounds.... We are,
indeed, learning a difficult craft.
Preaching belongs to those that
wish to hide; but sharing wounds
and healings.... well, those
aspects belong to writers that
dare to touch the hearts of others.
Think of what Paul the Apostle
meant when he wrote, "We
comfort others with the comfort
God gave us in our distress." He is
talking about the sharing of
wounds and healings.... yes? <soft
So, I wanted to encourage her to
be brave, and place pen on paper.
And yet, I wanted to encourage
her to also become an instrument
of God, and to allow Him to use
her mind as His pen.
|In Deepest Sympathy -
Poetry for those that grieve
|Building Faith, Hope, & Love -
Stories and Writings
|A Cup Of Cold Water -
Letters For The Thirsty
|A Pause In The Forest -
Poetry for thoughtful moments