It's Him, not me.

I have struggled to write for too long. Why, you may ask? Because it is something that I have become self-conscious of (both my writing in general and now my lack thereof); I want to please people. Well, not necessarily all of the time, but when I become too focused on myself suddenly what people think of me means much more than I would like to admit. Will what I say resonate with people? Will they like what I have to say? Will they like me still? It seems silly to think that my thoughts would become so extreme, but they do when I can't see beyond my own nose.

But then I catch myself. Why do I really do what I do? Am I doing this because that's what other people expect?

No.

That response leaves me hanging my head. This isn't about me. What talents I now possess were given to me. I cannot take credit for them. Anything good within me is not because of anything that I've done,  everything good is from Him. Yes, He who created me, He who set the world into order, He who allows beauty to exist.

It's Him, not me.

Sometimes, I forget that. Ok, well, sometimes, aka often.

But I don't want to stay there. I don't want to be stuck in a tangled web of pride and people pleasing. I want an audience of one. I want all that I say to be to Him, for Him, and an observation of Him. But I'm going to keep failing; I'm going to keep struggling with this. And yet, I am not bound to this thinking. There can be freedom.

But only if I remember, it's Him, not me.