Why I Write

Why do I write? I am lost without a pen in my hand. It’s not a prop; it’s a body part. I loved to write even as a child, playing school by scribbling on paper, with an overturned box as my desk. When I found Christ as a teen, I spent hours writing to God, not knowing I was praying and working out my faith. It came naturally to me. I’d share my joys, confusion, and fears with the Lord in my journals. I penned stories and poems about my faith and shared them with friends and family

            As an adult, I still need pen and paper with me. If I don’t have a notebook, an envelope will do. My need to write is compulsive; otherwise I don’t know how I’d process life or live it as deeply or as honestly as I aim to. After over 30 years of journaling, I write to keep my sanity, sort my thoughts, make sense of chaos and pain, record joys and blessings. I recall bits of beauty or kindness I’ve witnessed during the day. I can see from the pages how God is moving in my life. 

            I also record my goals and dreams. I look back and see them turned into real accomplishments: a writing business, book projects, a master’s degree, meaningful trips and travel. That seed of a dream or vision first found light and nourishment in my journals. 

            I also write in hopes of cheering a wider audience. The child’s scribbles are now an article or book; that cardboard box, a podium. I hope what I’ve experienced will help another find the same joy and comfort. Ultimately, I write in order to understand God’s ways, find freedom, take hold of His healing, and share His hope.