“I’m not a writer. I write. But I am not a writer.” This is what I have told myself for the past few years as ideas of writing a book began swirling around in my head.
Writers know what they’re doing, or at least they sure pretend to know. Writers understand the difference between passive and active voice and they know how to use adverbs correctly. They craft creative sentences and paint pictures with their words. They have a distinct voice and they know how to use it in a way that is smart and effective. Writers have an innate ability to transfer the thoughts in their heads to the world through their fingertips.
I can do exactly none of that.
English was always my hardest class in school. I never understood how to diagram a sentence or properly use a dangling participle. I still don’t understand why the oxford comma is a topic of much debate (my husband, a formally-trained writer and journalist, despises the thing and forbids me from using it). I feel utterly exposed when I write. Doubt and fear drip from my forehead with each word I put down. I second guess nearly everything, from word choice in a particular sentence to my purpose in life.
So, of course, God asked me to write. Of course. Isn’t that just so like Him?
God asked me to write about suffering. About what it’s like to walk with Him through the darkest of nights and the heaviest of emotions. Through my own journey, I’ve seen how easy it is for people (myself included) with the best of theology to become disillusioned through pain. Pain can strip us of reason and warp our views about God, life and faith. Without even knowing what is happening, the distance grows. The suspicion of God’s intentions lingers just a little bit longer.
I am quite familiar with the process. I’ve spent the last decade trying to sort out how my God, who I have faithfully followed for 15 years, could allow me to go through so much pain for such a prolonged amount of time. It just didn’t make sense to me. It still sometimes doesn’t if I’m being honest but the Lord has graciously given me enough insight to occasionally make sense of it all.
My hope is to share some of that insight here, as well as in a 365-day devotional that I am writing. I make no promises. My words will probably not be eloquent and my insight will be quite dim on many days, but I will try. I will believe that God can use His power, wisdom, and creativity to use my words for good. That he will help me to fulfill what He has asked me to do. Maybe one of these days I’ll admit to finally feeling like a writer.
“And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment
of what was spoken to her from the Lord.” – Luke 1:45
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