-Dad's Gifts-
I've not the foggiest idea of where my life would be
if it weren't for the set of tools that Dad gave to me.
I was very small when he brought me into his old shed.
Too young to fully grasp his plan or motives in my head.
He sized me up, looked in my eyes, and examined my hand,
then handed me a box so heavy I could barely stand.
I opened it excitedly, then frowned at what I saw.
The tools seemed unimpressive. Still, I quickly set my jaw.
I thanked my Father for the box, and he smiled knowingly,
then said, "You don't yet realize, son, what you're supposed to be.
I chose this particular box for you specifically.
Just use the contents as you should, and one day you will see."
I've gotten stronger since that day, the box seems somewhat light.
I've found that I enjoy Dad's gifts more than you'd think I might.
Sometimes I wish to exchange my tool set for another
with perhaps a brighter sheen, to show off to a brother.
Even so, I take great joy in using what Father gave.
I'm thankful for the help they give, the many roads they pave,
and hope that soon I'll know what I'm meant to use them to do.
Thanks Dad, for giving me your box. I owe all this to you.
-Monologue!-
The purpose behind this one is to swallow my pride and give credit where I believe it's due. I'm not good at very many things, so when it comes to something that I actually do have any amount of skill in, I claim it, treasure it, and hold it in a death grip. This being so, I take credit for the things I've written and posted when really, every scrap of the credit goes to God. He gave me this ability, he keeps this ability from dying out, and if He deems it necessary He'll take it away for the sake of my much-lacking humility.
There are many times when I wish I weren't a writer. I usually want to be something else. I love to write, and I love to read what others write, but I can't escape the feeling that I've scraped the bottom of the talent pool. To be frank, being good at putting words in particular formation really isn't all that impressive. But it was God's will that I be given a certain amount of skill in this regard (exactly how much skill is entirely up to your own opinion), and I am darn well going to do my best to treat it right. I wasn't meant to be impressive, but I know He doesn't want me to be incompetent.
But I love it. I love what I do, what I feel when I write in my notebook, what I feel when I post my stuff on the internet and when I come up with characters and places and plot threads. So I figure, maybe it's more important to God that I be happy than that I be impressive. I'm cool with that. I'm grateful for that.
Thanks Dad. You wanted me to write, and I hope you like what I've written.
