This week I’ve been in Texas at a writer’s retreat. I’m in edit mode for my first book in a Guidepost mystery series, and I’m in dream mode for books after this one.

I’m sitting in a beautiful retreat center, surrounded by gorgeous antiques and amazing historical authors. They cover the gambit of CBA fiction and time periods. And here I sit. Trying to dream up what my next books could look like. Another World War Two romance? A new suspense? How about a legal suspense this time? Or some combination of those three?

It’s like picking up a brand-new notebook and opening the cover. In front of me is an unmarred page, filled with perfect lines and unlimited potential. The only thing that limits me is…well…me.

My doubts. I could never write like X author.

My fears. What if I can’t pull off the idea if I do sell it.

My insecurities. Nobody would want to read it…

Fortunately, my God is much bigger than any of this. So I raise my hands in surrender. And I whisper to Him, “Here I am again, Lord. Use me. Fill me with Your ideas and creativity. Show me where You want me to go. What You want me to write.”

And I pick up the pen, poise it over the blank page. And smile.