A Writer’s Prayer of Thanks

Lord, Jesus, Logos, Living Word,
thank you for the joy and privilege
of being a writer.

Thank you,
a million times, thank you
that I get to spend my days
amid words
and sentences
and paragraphs
that (mostly) cooperate
and do my bidding.

Thank you for the smell of pencil shavings,
the elegance of a good fountain pen,
the click-clack of ancient typewriter keys;
for the intoxication of creative juices,
the sweetness of a well-turned phrase,
the creak of the office chair,
the surprise of a catch in the throat
and the salty track of a tear on the cheek;
for the agony of the blank page,
the ecstasy of the last line,
the terror of hitting “send”
and the fragrance of fresh ink on crisp new pages.

Thank you for the blessings
and dangers of living
and writing
and researching
in the Information Age,
for the alluring rabbit trails
and multiple (even conflicting) sources
and fascinating discoveries
that make research so enjoyable.

Thank you for the availability of information
in libraries,
from experts,
in publications,
and books.

Thank you for the technology that makes my job easier:
for the qwerty keyboard,
computers and screens,
word processors and printers,
websites and wifi,
downloadable documents
and searchable databases.
Thank you for cell phones
and the ability to silence them.
Thank you for electricity and iTunes
and paper and ink.

Thank you for the honor
of seeing my words in print,
where others will read them
and perhaps be helped by them.

Thank you that my brain
and fingers
still work
(despite years of wear and tear),
and that agents
and publishers
and readers
haven’t yet
found me out.

Amen.