My Why

Confession time: in elementary school, essay contests were my jam. In fifth grade, I won first place in a “Say No to Drugs” essay competition which earned me a trophy and a crisp $100 bill. That same year I won first place in our local newspaper’s writing showcase with a biography entitled “Against all odds, breaking through, and succeeding,” the life story about a family friend who contracted polio at a young age. From early on, I loved words, and I loved writing. I even enjoyed reading and writing poetry. In my spare time, and my favorite poet Shel Silverstein as my inspiration, I wrote my own poems and created my own “poetry books” complete with a copyright page… Because what ten year old can risk the theft of her original work “What if a witch didn’t have a boom?” Needless to say, back then if you asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I’d tell you “a writer.”

Fast forward to where my love for writing continued in high school. I spent four years on my school’s newspaper staff and was even co-editor of the paper with my best friend, Melissa. While newspaper staff played a monumental role in my high school experience, ironically, this is also when my hopes and dreams of being a writer started to fade. During my teen years, I got burned out on reading and writing from my high school English classes. Writing essays about things I didn’t really care about and reading books I had no interest in led me to a point where I didn’t enjoy it anymore. By junior year, cliff notes were my best friend and writing felt like a chore. (Now as a high school teacher myself, I completely understand that it wasn't my teachers’ fault. It was indeed the “system” where state testing is king, but that’s a soap box for another day.)

The more I was forced to write, the more I realized I didn’t like writing on demand. I liked writing when I was in the mood. I liked writing when I felt inspired. I liked writing about things that interested me or I was passionate about. But I didn’t like having to write under pressure… so how do you make a career out of writing, a career with constant deadlines, if you can’t write on demand? Well, you don’t. By the time I got to my senior year, my dream of being a writer was officially a thing of the past. Melissa went on to major in journalism and landed a job as a reporter at a newspaper right out of college. Alas, I did not. 

The thing is, even though my childhood dream of being a writer fell through, I’ve always been able to express myself better with written word than spoken. For some reason, words flow more freely and effortlessly from my fingers than from my mouth. So here I am, well into adulthood, finding my fingers moving more and more everyday. Not for other people, not for a deadline, and certainly not on demand… just describing, as the Holy Spirit prompts me, what the Lord has done, is doing, and will do in my life. But why now and why in this way?

I have a stack of bible verse cards on my nightstand and once a week, I randomly draw a verse out of the stack to meditate on throughout the week. This particular day, January 20th, 2022 to be exact, I was praying with a desire God had put on my heart to write not just for myself. It sounded very unlike something I’d do. As a true introvert, I had come to enjoy writing in my adult life almost as a form of therapy, for my eyes only. It sounded a little scary, pretty risky, kind of uncomfortable… and it’d definitely take a lot of vulnerability. As I started to distrust this word from the Lord, the doubts creeped in. “What’s so special about my words, Lord? They aren’t even that good. Or my story? Aren’t there plenty of people writing about You already, Lord? What can I even contribute?” Then, for whatever reason (spoiler alert: it was the Holy Spirit) in the midst of my questioning, I realized I had forgotten to draw my scripture card that day. So I paused, got up from the couch, went into our bedroom, and drew a card out of the stack. The verse was:

“Go and tell the people about this life.” Acts 5:20

With a smirk and a laugh, I thanked God for such a vivid signal grace. It was such a sweet reminder that His word really is living and active (Hebrews 4:12). I didn’t run off and do anything big or drastic. The Lord did indeed tell me what to do, but I knew that I could leave the how, when, and where up to Him. If I’ve learned anything in my walk with Christ, it’s that He’s definitely a details guy. 

So here I am, resurrecting a childhood dream at the age of 32 in a way I could have never dreamed of, using my writing to share the witness of my faith.

I’m not here for a side hustle, endless instastories, or to “make it” as a writer or blogger. There is no beautifully curated instafeed, and I know this is just another blog in a sea of influencers trying to make a living on the world wide web. I’m making no promises to regular “content” or blog posts. And let’s be honest, I’m definitely not attempting any award winning pieces… I don’t think I can even begin to compete with my fifth grade self.

I’m here because I’m deeply in love with Jesus Christ, and His endless pursuit of my heart is impossible not to talk about.

I don’t know what the Lord will do with my words. If one person will read this or one million. But the good news is I don’t need to. All He told me to do is “go, and tell the people about this life” with Him. This beautifully abundant life. So that’s what I’m going to do… and I’ll leave the details up to Him.

St. Ignatius of Loyola, pray for us.