God is now here. He’s always been here, but it’s the first and only time I’ve been 63 in December, and I feel the weight of the years. I’m like Anna in the temple, worshipping God and praising Him that now at last I see the fulfillment of His promise. He multiple the twelve years I plowed into the craft of writing and multiplied them into a crop of fifty-two books and more.
But the books are what I do. They’re not who I am. God often uses writing to show me what He wants to do in me (and through me).
50 books isn’t about me. It’s about the God who fulfilled a promise and stamped His approval on my calling.
Take the abundance of nonfiction this year. God opened new doors and equipped me to write in ways and venues I never expected. God’s so in charge of that.
If teachers and preachers learn the most, so do writers as they put words on paper. Long before anyone else reads my words, I’ve offered them as a personal communication with God and they are transforming me!
More than that, God is answering my prayers in direct, measurable, exciting ways. I’m in awe. I’m just as sinful, self-willed, as always. There’s no how-to formula. It’s not anything I’ve done—it’s all gifts from God.
If I’ve learned anything from this year, it’s that a lifetime of sincere if faulty discipleship is worth it. Because not about the disciple, but about the Master—and He is everything He promised and more.
Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year