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I wrote the original version of this post almost five years ago, in the thick of the pandemic, when time felt endless and discipline felt optional. Reading it now, I can see two things were true then — and honestly, they’re still true now:

I hadn’t lost my desire.
I had loosened my discipline.

Lately, I’ve felt a little out of control. Not in a dramatic way — just enough to notice. I had been doing well. I knew what worked for me spiritually. But slowly, quietly, the habits that anchored me started slipping.

Discipline doesn’t usually disappear all at once.
It fades.

Back then, I was used to waking up at 5:30 a.m. to write. That rhythm mattered. Writing requires discipline at the highest level — not inspiration, not vibes, not waiting to “feel ready.” Just showing up.

So when God started waking me up at 4:30 a.m., I was irritated. Honestly? A little offended.

Like… sir, 4:30??
I’m going to bed later.
I’m not prepared for this.

Most mornings, I’d lie there, pretending not to hear Him, trying to fall back asleep. That plan did not work. At all.

Even when I didn’t get up, I couldn’t un-hear the invitation.

And that’s what it was — an invitation. Not pressure. Not punishment. God refusing to let me get too busy, too distracted, or too comfortable to abandon the thing He put in me to do.

I don’t want to be someone who wants to write a book.
I want to be someone who writes one.

I’m grateful that I still recognize His prompting and even more grateful that when I ask, “What are You doing?” He still answers.

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Until next time,

Dominique