We have the wonderful Mollie Rushmeyer guest blogging on Quills and Inkblotts today! Thanks, Mollie for being willing to help us out.
Her thoughts on a writer’s prayer life are below.
We enjoyed her post and know you will too!
Hello, fellow writers and Inkblotters! My name is Mollie Rushmeyer. I’m just an aspiring contemporary romance and women’s fiction author with a passion for writing and big, impossible dreams with an even bigger, all-things-are-possible Heavenly Father.
I so appreciate the gals of Quills and Inkblotts allowing me the opportunity to share something that is both difficult and clinging to my heart these days—prayer as a writer.
There’s no way Deanna Fugett, author and Quills and Inkblotts regular blogger, could have known when she asked if I’d write a guest post on this topic, that I had been struggling with this very thing in my own life.
Humility. Gratefulness. Patience.
These are the focus of my prayers of late.
So, I’ll start by saying the last seven months have been the hardest of my life. While I don’t wish to divulge the particulars, I will tell you where these dark days have left me—so much like Dorothy Gale— picked up, tossed about, and hurled back to earth with all the broken pieces of my life laying at my feet.
I have never been so scared, hurt, humiliated, and angry in my life. As much as it pains me to do so, and at the risk of everyone thinking I’ve lost it, I will also tell you there have been times in the not-so-distant past that I’ve jumped at the sound of car doors slamming or knocking on the door. I’ve cried when I’ve had to leave my front door. Times when I thought I must be having a heart attack, only to find out I was experiencing the physical apparition of the fear inside. I felt unloved, worn from the inside out, and sure the other “shoes” would never cease to drop.
Maintaining the mental energy to get out of bed has been difficult, let alone for writing and praying. I have been tempted to call it quits on the writing, at least for now.
In fact, one afternoon with my two-year-old in bed napping, I laid it all out for God. I had been coming to a place of greater peace than I had known for months, and I asked Him to guide me. Just guide me. I didn’t know where I should be spending my time anymore. Did He still have a plan for my writing? Should I give it a rest while my children are young and I have wounds that still need healing?
I remember sitting still after that. Listening. I heard no audible voice, but I felt calm, joyful even.
That evening, my husband and I took our girls to the park. When we returned, my phone rang with an unknown number. I almost didn’t answer, thinking it was a telemarketer.
“Is this Mollie Rushmeyer?” a southern voice asked.
I mumbled some reply, ready to hang up if she decided to tell me she was calling because my husband and I just stayed at one of their resorts. Like, lady, do you have any clue how long it has been since my husband and I went on a sans-kids get-away? But I digress.
Then my brain buzzed with excitement as I heard the words, “You’re a semi-finalist in the ACFW Genesis Contest.”
I tried to listen to the other things she said, but my heart was on repeat. “Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Lord.”
His answer couldn’t have been clearer. Stay the course. Be patient. Trust me. I am not finished with your dreams.
Family and friends alike, bless them, were quick to say how much I deserved this good thing, this “break” in all the heartache. And while initially I was inclined to agree with them, there was no mistaking the other lesson He wanted me to learn. It sucker-punched me right in the soul that night.
God doesn’t owe me anything. Like Chris Tomlin’s song, He’s a good, good Father. Even in the valleys. Even in the darkest spots of our lives, His brilliant love shines. His love for me is not directly proportionate to how great (or not) my life is going, or if my dreams have been fulfilled, or if I’ve published a book, or how big my platform is, or how many Facebook friends I have, or even if I go any further in this contest or not.
His love is in absolute relation to what He was willing to give in my place, what He was willing to sacrifice so He wouldn’t have to spend eternity without me.
I’m reading Your Beautiful Purpose by Susie Larson, and it’s seriously changing my life. I highly recommend it. It’s teaching me about humility and what to do with the entitlement in my heart, and jealousies of looking at other women with the life and dream-fulfillment I want for myself. (Here’s a hint: pray!)
And I’m learning to come before the Lord in prayer with true gratefulness, seeking His heart, hands lifted in surrender rather than hands extended for what He can give me. I can honestly say I’m grateful, for all of it. I wouldn’t want to relive the last seven months. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. But I see the golden threads of love and hope, sewn through the darkest places of my life, bringing their slivers of light.
Today my two-year-old daughter had this little adorable, furrowed brow as she listened to the thunder rumble overhead. I told her it just meant rain was coming. She said the rain must be the clouds crying, and after thinking about it, she said the clouds’ friends should help them down. Then they could be happy and stop crying.
This conversation about the clouds continued until, to bring her some peace of mind, I said, “It’s okay, Baby. God sends the rain. He lets the rain come to bring the grass and trees back to life in the spring.”
The words stuck in my throat.
That is our God, isn’t it?
He lets the storms come and the winds howl with pain. He allows the dry spells in our lives where we might be sure He has forgotten us and the deepest dreams of our hearts have all but withered away. And He says, “I am here. You are loved, My darling.”
He brings the rain to reveal the beauty hidden in that dead, thirsty ground of our hearts.
Here’s my prayer. Join in if you feel led. This one’s for the broken-hearted, your Healer is here. This one’s for the still-waiting dreamer, you have not been forgotten. He hears.
Dear Heavenly Father,
You are so good. I thank You that no matter the circumstances of my life, You love me and never leave me. Thank You for creating me with a delight and passion for the written word. I pray that You would bring me right intentions and the right words for my writing.
Lord, help me to humbly look to my sister-writers in Christ and love them with Your love. I pray for Your blessings over their lives and in their writing. Help us to hold each other up.
I ask for strength, hope, and patience as I wait to bring my stories to the world. But Lord no matter what You have planned, may the deepest and most fervent desire of my heart be to know you better. Help me to trust you in this storm, and to seek you in all aspects of my life. And because I know you care about even the smallest details of my life, I ask for the time, the energy, and if all else fails, the endurance to keep typing.
In all these things I pray, in Jesus’ name. Amen.
“Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.” Romans 12:12
For as long as Midwestern gal, Mollie Rushmeyer can remember, she has been fascinated with the written word and storytelling. As a young girl, she often dreamed up exotic, mostly melodramatic, stories and poems while sitting under (or in) some tree that thankfully will never see the light of day. Her deepest and most fervent dream of becoming a writer only ever uttered to her childhood cat.
As she got older (not old, mind you) the dream of writing a novel swelled within her, threatening to suffocate her if she didn’t do something about it.
Now she spends her days chasing her two amazing, spunky daughters around, and every spare minute writing the characters she’d love to meet, hoping others will too. She writes novel-length contemporary inspirational romance, women’s fiction, and short stories as well as lives out her Lois Lane fantasies by writing for several local newspapers.
On this prodigal journey, she seeks to spread God’s love through stories of messy regular people just like her, who are saved by grace. She’d love to have you along for the ride.
You can connect with her on: