PERFECTION

“No one will even read this. It’s terrible.”

“Someone will.” His voice was gentle, comforting. “Not every heart will need to hear these words, but even if it is just one… You will have glorified the King.”

Glorify the King. That’s what I wanted to do. Why else would I pour and weep over words on paper? Why else would I carve out worlds that the naked eye couldn’t see? Why else would the Creator give me imagination, or give me characters as if the were my heroes and friends?

“You’re words are not meant to pass away…” He picked up the wrinkled wad of paper from the dusty floor, smoothing it out on my desk. “God hasn’t given you a voice just so that you can ignore it because it hurts sometimes.”

“How can I be sure they’re right? What if the words are all wrong?” I asked, forcing my voice to be steady, but that question weighed in my heart like a stone.

“You can’t.” His blue eyes shown. “That’s the beauty of it all. There is not a truly perfect thing on this vast, stunning, complex world… There is no perfect piece of art or work that comes from a human’s hands. Only God is flawless. You’ll never be sure your words are perfect. Perfection does not equal good…” Indicating the paper before me, he smiled one of his warmest smiles. “To glorify God, strive to do so. Don’t strive for perfection.”

I stared at the blank piece of paper worn with wrinkles. “You have a lot of faith in me.”

“I’ve seen your face when you get a new idea, or see something that reminds you of one of your characters…” He crossed his arm against his chest. “You’ve got things to tell… and there will be people that need to hear you. Even if it’s just one.” A smirk. “Though I doubt it’s just one.”

Faith. I had faith in God’s Gift. And I’d glorify Him with it. Even if my words weren’t perfect.

 

~~~

 

A few years ago, I read a book that briefly touched the subject of how there were a tribe of Native Americans that always left one flaw in their work. Be it a beautiful woven art piece, etc, they always made one mistake. This was done to remind them that only Creator was capable of perfection.

While I’ve forgotten which tribe this was (though I’ll be trying to find the answer!), this has stuck with me for a long time. Why? Because all I ever see is people striving for perfection. We don’t want to give God the honor of being Perfect. We want to achieve perfection ourselves.

And we can’t. We truly can’t. No many how many art classes you take, you won’t be a perfect artist. No matter how many books you write, you won’t be a perfect author. No matter how many times you practice a kata, you won’t be perfect.

God doesn’t want perfection. He wants us to seek Him. Honor Him. We can do that by having a heart for Him, no matter what we do, or how good we’re good at the task. There is beauty in doing so!

God bless,

– Ang

 

HAVE YOU HEARD ABOUT THE INDIAN TRIBE’S TRADITION? ARE YOU A PERFECTIONIST?

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HOMEWARD | A SHORT STORY

Hello, friend! In July, I entered the Golden Rain Short Story contest, hosted by Annie Louis Twitchell. The theme was remembrance. My mind immediately landed on the idea of a veteran/Army inspired short story… But I wanted to go further. I wanted to remember something that hurts a great deal but we often shy away from.

Suicide.

My following short story won the contest. Please note, that once the next winner of the Golden Rain contest is announced, this story will be removed off the website and I will be publishing it on Amazon Kindle only, and it will remain free. Please remain in prayer that every soul will believe suicide is not the answer.

 

HOMEWARD BY ANGELA R. WATTS

CLICK HERE TO READ

 

As you may have heard of, 22 veterans a day are lost to suicide. Suicide has become a dark stronghold on this nation, but we cannot let it win. Jesus wins. To fight the lie that suicide is, we must pray. Please share this story to help reach others.

God bless.

– Angela

ROADS | A POEM

 ROADS

There was a road that I could not guide,
A long, winding road full of kind dreams,
But I could not stop the danger, no matter how hard I tried,
So her road ended, and I pushed on.

There was a road, for a girl who loved to dance and skip,
But the road was cut short,
And I sat in a white bed, with her on my hip,
Promising the road would go on and we’d face it together, but her road ended in a big white room, and my road goes on forever.

There is a road that crawls to a cemetery, near a big white church,
And I go sit there and often wonder,
Beside two gravestones under the strong silver birch,
Of where those two roads travelled into heaven that I cannot see.

— Roads, WAR, by Angela R. Watts (copyright 2018 all rights reserved)

DEEP WATERS | UPDATES

Last week, I wrote GOD WILL NOT FORSAKE US because God has shown me lots of truths during this year. The past few months have been jammed full of stressful circumstances, decisions, and plans for the future. It can be a struggle not to get bogged down by the disasters and get exhausted from trudging through it all. We’ve been working on our house which is finally on the market again (prayers that God’s will be done and that it sells soon would be greatly appreciated), among a list of other trials that face us.

God tells us to seek Him. Sometimes, that’s as ‘little’ as praying to Him throughout the day, and giving short but heartfelt prayers over things you have no control over. There’s so, so much in life I just can’t control or help — but I can pray. Prayer counts. Praising God for everything is important! Even when we have lists of things to fear or want to run from.

Hard work counts, too. While God wants us to have faith and be still, there are times when we have to be willing to work hard to do His will. My family and I have been doing a lot of working and preparing. When it feel like we’re in deep waters, even if the storm is tossing the waves, with God… we can walk on water. So, take courage, y’all!

Amidst the whirlwind, I’ve been tackling Seek’s final draft. I worked on it during Camp NaNo in July, but didn’t make booming progress. At the start of August, I made a goal of 30,000 words. I’m at 25,000 words on the 21st. Seek’s draft is over 70,000 right now, so I’m getting close to the end! =) I’ll be giving Seek out to beta readers during October (God willing), and while sign ups aren’t open yet (won’t be for a while, ha!), if any of you are interested in telling me you’d like to beta Seek, you can contact/message me beforehand. You can visit Seek’s page for the very rough synopsis which isn’t final yet. 😛 Here’s a quick snippet for you:

SEEK

ELI’S POINT OF VIEW

I shoved my questions aside, focusing on getting Angel out of danger. She didn’t wake or stir in my arms. The kind, loyal Angel was bloody and limp. And it was because of Michelle, who’d grown up with Angel, who’d watched Angel learn to walk, learn to speak… How could someone do this to their family?

Michelle had made her choice. She choice to destroy the family that had raised and loved her. I’d failed to protect Angel once. Not again.

Jake’s gun never left Fahn, though Fahn looked strangely bored. Michelle didn’t make a move but then she snarled at Fahn: “The cops, we need to go! NOW!”

Fahn cocked his head at me and Jake, smirking, stepping to the car. “Excuse us.”

Bang!

 

Well, I think that’s all for today, folks. I have to go get back at tacklin’ life. 😉 What has life been like for you? I’m always here to pray for y’all!

God bless.

– Ang

 

DO YOU WANT TO BETA READ SEEK (EVEN IF IT IS A COUPLE MONTHS EARLY TO ASK… *RUNS OFF*)? HOW HAS YOUR SUMMER BEEN?

WAITING FOR SUNRISE

 

new beginnings

are hard to see

when the dark is close, smothering, comforting.

but the moon is falling

and the stars are weary

so we know, with regret for the loss of the night we call gentle, that morning must come soon.

and when the sun peeks out from the hills, and dawn whispers hello,

we can be sure that another miracle has arrived — the miracle of one more sunrise.

 

– arw