Cry of Creation

Tears well up and spill across my page. Will they love you? Will they know you as I have? I wonder. I close my eyes an envision who I've created and contemplate their fate. How will they be handled, be read, be remembered, or maybe not. What if they are not treated well. Misunderstood. Disregarded. Left to languish without hearing their story. What will come over me then? Will I cry and spill my disappointment, singular sadness, gushed out on paper with ink spoken words? Will I try to seem unconcerned when their very lives are at stake...at printable stake. These thoughts come to me as the revisions are revised and "my darlings", Faulkner's words,are at stake. There are so few I will relinquish without great pain. May they stay, may they live to grace a printed page? That will all depend on me. Did I write them a fair life, give them a clear voice, have them make their presence irreplaceable? My heart hurts just thinking I'll mistakenly judge them unneccessary. Already a few are gone. Here I sit with "in or out" decisons that have to be made. It's the literary way. If all the characters in all the books I've read could stand before me now, I'd know the ones who have made me laugh, cry, mad, fear, dread. Know the scary, shameful, sordid, strong. the beautiful, tragic, triumphant, brave. So many. So few stand out, but many are remembered. Several I've immulated. Some still trying to forget. The music in my head is playing now as I see my folks acting out my story. It is just that, a story. A fairy tale that happens to people that are not, but seem to be...real. I just love them. Want the best for them. Almost like my children, I want them protected from what will come and especially from me. I write on... to do them justice. To see them thrive. this blog post was supposed to be about them..... but I remembered......................................... I am a created being. My Creator has my life in His hands. He can make or take my life. He can "open any anything that is shut, shut anything that is open". Yet He doesn't worry about me. He knows all "my going outs and my coming ins". My Creator. If I being a human want good things for my created, how much more does my Heavenly Father desire for me. ... realizing I am not God, but His workmanship, I will work.. thrust Him, my Designer, to make my creations what He wants them to be, do, accomplish. He is trustworthy. My created are ultimately in the most trustworthy of Hands. I will dry my tears now. For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them. Ephesians 2:10