I love to write. I think it's fun, I think it's satisfying. I'm enrolled in a writing course and I can't wait to turn assignments in and work on something new. If I'm given free time, doing some writing always tops my list of things I'd like to do. I would rather send an email to someone than call them on the phone any day.
My husband (the Pastor) hates to write. He's a speaker by nature, not a writer. God has called and gifted him to preach, and each week he lives up to that calling. He's a great preacher. He loves to talk to people, teach a class, explain something...but don't ask him to write. He hates it. He can't understand why anyone would willingly subject themselves to something so horrible as a writing class. If and when the time comes when he's required to write something, he will procrastinate to the bitter end. Despite all that, a couple times a year, my husband is asked to write a short article for "The Pastor's Corner", a feature on the weekly "Faith & Values" page of our local newspaper.
As I learn to write, I'm learning to self edit and rewrite...and rewrite...and rewrite. My writing is really not that great. Just because you love something, doesn't make you a master at it. So, I write and practice...and practice....and practice.
My husband's article had been due first thing Thursday morning. Of course, he waited until late Wednesday night to write it. (Now, if he's reading this, he will be highly offended. So I have to add that I'm sure he was mulling it over in his head for awhile before Wednesday. But, the reality is, he didn't actually sit down to write it until late that night). He locked himself in his office for a short while and came out with the finished product. Usually, he would have had me type it up for him, but I was very sick that day, so he didn't ask. Because of that, I didn't get a sneak peek at his work. You might imagine my surprise as I picked up the paper on Friday and read what he wrote. It was fantastic! Totally not fair. I spent the day listening to everyone I bumped in to say, "Wow, tell your husband his article was great! I loved it!".
"I'm a writer, too." I wanted to tell them back. "Just because he publishes articles and I don't, doesn't mean anything." But I didn't. I swallowed my pride (and that's a big bite) and let him have his moment in the sun. Don't think I haven't given him a bad time about it, though. When my next writing assignment is due, I'm going to make him help me with my homework.