In My Opinion… Writing is Like Being Thrown Into a Briar Patch

Nancy in Office

This month I committed to writing four articles for Intercessors for America. I like writing for them because they want facts and prayer direction, which is what I like to write. I think it’s important to give people information and at least some guidance on how to pray and let them go to town with it.
Every time I write, I’m reminded of the Uncle Remus stories I heard growing up. For a time, Saturday mornings would find me and a host of other kids at the local Magnolia radio station, KVMA studio for a live program. We would sit on the studio floor and listen to the reading of the famous tales of near-death and the miraculous escape of the pesteringly clever Brer Rabbit from his ever-pursuing enemy Brer Bear. One story, in particular, has always been meaningful to me. Brer Bear has Brer Rabbit by the ears and holding the mischievous rabbit over a cliff, all the while threatening to fling him into the briar patch below. To outwit Brer Bear, the cunning rabbit, begs not to be thrown into the briar patch. So that’s exactly what Brer Bear does, thinking he has surely punished Brer Rabbit for all his mischievous deeds. But the rabbit hits the briar patch running and singing while he hops along, “I love the briar patch. This is where I was born.” Off he goes to another adventure, most likely one that will include outsmarting Brer Bear.
When I decide to write an article, I am Brer Rabbit for sure. The first day I split my time between staring at the blank computer page and writhing on the floor. I am Brer Rabbit begging Brer Bear not to throw me into the briar patch. That first day, I try desperately not to say aloud what’s running through my mind: “I can’t do this. What am I going to say? God, this is too hard!” But then the second day comes, and I stiffen my back and outsmart Brer Bear. I start to put things together, and that’s when I get tossed into the briar patch. As that happens, I start hopping along and just like Brer Rabbit. I hit the briar patch running, realizing, “I was born in the briar patch. This is where I belong.”


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