Someone recently asked me why I liked to write about God.
Great question! …but, man, I didn’t see that one coming.
For a Christian, you’d think that would be an easy answer. I could say something along the lines of “because I want to fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel.”
And that’s the truth. Sort of. But in reality, it took a lot of reflection to arrive at an answer that encompasses my true feelings behind this desire.
Those who know me well can already attest to my love for writing. For me – written words are glorious things! Back when legwarmers were cool (the first time) I won a third grade writing contest for an essay I’d written. It was a little bit of a natural high for my young self and I just knew my No. 2 pencil and I were mates for life.
All throughout school I kept a journal. I had more fictional characters than I could shake a stick at. Shamefully, I loved research papers more than any person really should love research papers. After college I reluctantly dedicated myself to a technical career that was, seemingly, as far from writing as I could possibly get. However, I still managed to pick up technical writing gigs under most of the job responsibilities so this was a plus. Once Jonathon and I were married I spent my extra time writing what I considered to be “fun stuff” in hopes of publishing someday.
But out of nowhere there came a wall. My muse presumably road out of town on the first bus she could catch and I was left with what felt like a broken pencil and a blank page.
Sometimes writing is hard. I knew this. But this was different. My imagination was an empty well and I wasn’t prepared to die as I thirsted for my beloved hobby. I wanted my characters to come to life and for people to experience their lives in the same manner that I experienced them…right there in my head.
It was a frustrating feeling. I couldn’t pinpoint the reason for my loss for words. I ran down the list: I have another child now. We have a new home to care for. My job is more demanding.
But that explained the lack of time. Certainly not the lack of creativity.
So I kept going: And there was the stress that came from owning a business. And there was my Bible study group.
And then it slowly began to make more sense to me. My talent wasn’t drying up. Only the material that kept that hole inside me filled for so many years. God was giving me a clean break. He was allowing me an opportunity to experience His truth up close and personal. To fill that hole with His presence rather than through the lives of people who didn’t exist.
Characters that had been living inside my head for so long suddenly became less familiar to me. I was replacing their personalities with the identity of Christ. Dialogue that was so meticulously well thought out was now replaced with scripture memorization.
After a time I picked up my journal and began recording, not only the blessings in my life, but the struggles I was experiencing. I recorded scripture that was speaking to me and the answers God was giving me. I was never empty. It just kept flowing.
It took awhile to fully sink in that I wanted to share these experiences. Even now, I’m not entirely sure that I’ve even found the correct platform. But I keep writing. I keep believing. I keep learning. I keep growing closer. And I keep trusting in God that I will be able to do even greater things.
Perhaps I write only just for me. Either way, I have no regrets.
And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. Colossians 3:17