Writing With Purpose and Faith
I didn’t always know I was going to be a writer. I knew I loved words. I knew I loved stories. But for a long time, I wasn’t sure if that counted for anything. It felt more like a quiet place I went when everything else in life felt too loud. I journaled. I scribbled half-finished chapters. I wrote prayers I was too afraid to say out loud. And somewhere in that quiet, something started to take root.
Looking back, I realize how early this calling began. I used to write stories and plays for my friends and me to act out, filling pages with imagination and meaning I couldn’t yet explain. My mom always told me I was creative. She saw it before I ever did. She encouraged me to keep writing, told me I had a gift, and spoke life over my words. Still, for a long time, I didn’t feel good enough. I thought writing was for people who had more confidence or more clarity than I did.
Then, years later, I met Dylan. When I told him I wrote, he leaned in instead of brushing it off. He asked questions. He wanted to hear about the characters I created and the stories that kept me up at night. He especially loved my fiction, the parts of my writing I had kept quiet for a long time. His excitement gave me courage. It helped me start taking this calling seriously. Not because I finally believed I was good enough, but because I realized the voice God placed in me was worth listening to. And worth sharing.
Now, when I write, I think about the person who feels like they’re drowning in the same questions I once had. I think about the version of myself who needed truth but didn’t know where to find it. I think about the tender way God meets us when we’re not trying to perform, just trying to breathe.
I write devotionals because I believe there is power in quiet encouragement. I write fiction because I believe stories can carry healing. I write blog posts because I believe God moves in the ordinary, and sometimes we need someone else to say it first so we can recognize it in our own lives.
Writing with purpose and faith doesn’t mean I always feel confident. It doesn’t mean I never wrestle with doubt. It means I show up, even on the days when the words come slow and the page feels heavy. It means I keep asking, “God, what do You want to say here?” and trusting that He’ll fill the gaps I can’t.
This space, this blog, these books, these late-night notes on my phone, it’s not just for sharing what I create. It’s for remembering why I create at all. It’s a space to honor the God who gave me the stories, and the people who may need them.
If you’re here, reading along, thank you. Thank you for being part of this journey. I don’t take it lightly that you’re sharing your time and your heart with mine. I pray that something you read here speaks to a place in you that needs tenderness, truth, and just enough hope to keep going.
Reflection Question:
Have you ever felt God speak to you through something you’ve created or written down?
What message has He placed on your heart lately, even if it’s only for you?