Recently I joined a Christian writers' organization and attended their spring conference. Speaker was a successful author of 35 mostly fiction books and a former architect, fireman, and pastor. A fluent, funny, compassionate but hard-driving guy (writes five books a year, basically to make up for lost time as he explains it). I meanwhile find it a challenge and triumph to complete a 500-word item for publication every, um, three months or so. (Yeah, that's my current pace.)

But I'm not beating myself up about it since, there's also this thing called life. Some writers, often the most prolific ones, let everything including health and marriages go by the board in pursuit of "art." But that doesn't sit right with me. I'm still hoping to write the Great American/Canadian Memoir, or whatever, but know it'll never happen if stars don't align and I receive strength from above. Oddly, I feel hopeful that actually could happen one day. But if not, life will carry on and, as Tozer put it, we will have "all eternity to enjoy ourselves."