Ordinarily, I wouldn't write about the articles I write for our weekly newsletter geared to supporters of the university. It's part of my job and a rather tedious one at that. It means sitting through events where everything is in Arabic or so technical I couldn't understand even if it were in English. It means hunting down people to interview them, madly scrabbling to write any poignant points I can use later, then trying to decipher my unique shorthand as I search for a story line to weave the narrative together. It means scheduling, rescheduling, and going back to the original time to take a group picture with Very Important People who already have full schedules of their own. It means wading through hundreds of photos to find the one shot that doesn't have anyone with their eyes closed, sleeping, yawning, or looking generally bored during assembly or prayer meeting so I can accurately depict the event I'm chronicling. It means waiting. Waiting for someone to review my text, waiting for someone to edit photos, waiting for someone to arrive for their interview. Waiting for the internet to work again so I can link that final blurb to the web article.
And finally it's ready. The program we use to send out the newsletter has a final confirmation button captioned, This Is Your Moment of Glory. I always have a momentary pause of panic, worried that I've misspelled someone's name or made a horrific typo, but then I check myself because I know I've already edited it three times. In its entirety. So I press Send.
Today was the most frustrating of days. Three weeks ago I decided we had enough news to start publishing weekly. Excellent marketing strategy; not such a great idea for me as editor! This now meant I had to meet deadlines weekly instead of twice a month. It also meant I had to readjust my priorities to start working on news articles earlier in the week. While I thought I had everything more or less ready, this morning I realized I had a lot of writing still to do for today's edition.
After interviewing the president for the editorial, I locked myself in my dorm room, turned on my classical radio station, prayed, and began to write. An hour later, I had edited a welcome packet for guests who stayed in the dorm, answered several emails, uploaded a picture or two, but hadn't finished writing the editorial or a major article on the website welcoming the new science faculty chair. Time was ticking away as the president had to approve the editorial before I could publish it and I was facing a serious brain freeze.
Sometimes the words flow without thought when I'm writing. It's like that when I'm blogging. I rarely write if the thoughts stop; when I find myself in that situation I usually stop writing. I have learned that the best writing comes from the emotion of the heart in the moment and this cannot be artificially created. Journalistic writing, on the other hand, is the most tiring of genres to attempt to engage. One must answer the tedious questions of Who, What, Why, etc., while extending some form of hook to interest the reader while remaining professional. I will admit, there are many newsletters I've read where the editor had a casual approach to their audience but I hold high standards for the university.
Just before they pulled line at 1 pm, I rushed to the cafeteria where my lunch consisted of white rice and salad that kept company with a quarter cup of steamed greens scraped from the bottom of the pan. The internet was somewhat better in the cafeteria but its dual purpose as social center meant it was too distracting to concentrate fully so I returned to my room and struggled on with the writing even as I prayed God would help me make sense of it all.
Two hours later, I pressed the Send button. It was done. What a relief. It was then that I decided to re-read the final article I'd written. Tears came to my eyes as I finished. I knew without a question that I hadn't written the article in my own wisdom. Reporting is probably my least favourite thing to do but I was humbled to see God take my frustrated weariness and turn scattered thoughts and words into a meaningful piece to encourage others.
This is what life is. It is constantly growing, stretching, and being amazed at each step of the way as God creates beauty out of my life and uses it to be a blessing.
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