The Blessing of Deadlines

It has been a rough few days in my household. The kind with more tension than a suspense novel.

I hate conflict. It makes me want to tie on running shoes and see how far I can go before I collapse. Or to play endless rounds of solitaire to deaden the pain. Or to simply curl up in bed with the covers over my head.

The problem is that I am a writer. It’s my job. I am supposed to write, even when I don’t want to. And the last three days I didn’t want to.

But I did. Had to, whether I liked it or not. Because in one week I have two deadlines for competitions I’m going to enter.

Like most writers, I don’t like deadlines. I avoid them. Strain against them. Even break them occasionally. Or I did, until today.

By having those unchangeable deadlines in place long before the events of the last few days, I could not wallow in despair. I had to sit down and write. In writing, I found comfort. Hope. Strength. A smile midst bleak events.

So today I learned that deadlines are not a curse, the bane of a writer’s existence. At least not all the time.

Sometimes they are blessing, a gift from God in troubled times.

Feet on the ground, head in the clouds,

Chawna Schroeder