I’ll Tell You a Secret

I love writers.

Because they are people, and I love people.

But I especially love writer-people, because they are attempting something dangerous and holy:

They are trying to express their soul,

and then—miraculously—expose it to others.

And I find that fascinating.

What compels people to do that?

What compels me to do that?

What compels you?

Before you write your story, you need to meet the part of you that’s been writing all along—the voice in your journal, your dreams, your prayers, your silence.

It’s the part of you that longs to be known.

That cries out to make sense of life and believes something inside you might help someone else.

This is not about writing for performance or applause.

This is about writing for presence—with yourself, with God, with your reader. It’s about writing to express the truth you have to tell and the truth of who you are.

So let’s begin here:

Not with grammar.

Not with genre.

But with honesty and courage.

Reflect:

1. When was the first time you wrote something that felt true?
   
   Where were you? What did you write? How did it feel to put it into words?
   
   
2. What compels you to write today?
   
   (Not what you think should compel you. What actually does?)
   
   
3. What would you write if you weren’t afraid?
   
   
4. Who are you secretly hoping will read what you write—and why?
   
   

Pray:

God, You are the Word behind my words.

You formed me with a voice and a story.

Help me write from a place of truth, not performance.

Help me remember why I started writing in the first place.

And help me not be afraid to speak from the soul You gave me.

Amen.

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