To Not Write is To Not Offer Myself

When did sitting down to write become so laborious and difficult? When did the words cease to flow?

To Not Write is To Not Offer Myself

When I began trying too hard.

While I believe excellent writing takes practice, lots of consistent practice, laboring through it just seems all wrong. It negates the reason I write.  Cleaning takes work. Discipline takes work. Even relationships take work. But writing? Writing helps me breathe better; deeper; more fully.

Writing is not work in the sense that its’ repetition is dull and mundane. The work is hardly noticeable, although it is there. It is subtle, but without its effort, I would cease to exist as I am. Writing is woven throughout the woman God created me to be. It's an expression of Him--an extension of His likeness, coupled with my identity in Him.

Writing helps me slow down and take in life. It forces me to pause and scribble down the moments before they flee. With millions and millions of moments passing by year after year, how will I remember? This life is but a moment compared to the eternal, but God is still here. How can I heed seeing Him when I am going through a storm if I have not left a trace? If I have not left words, like breadcrumbs, to lead me back to where I have been and where God has been faithful?

When I revisit times of uncertainty and see that God's prints lead me through the fog, I have yet another reason to rejoice; another reason to proclaim His glory.

To not write is to forget.

To not write is to not breathe in life.

To not write is to not offer myself.

To not write is to not reveal my testimony; my story.

To not write would be to reject His gift.

I can't not write.

I write to honor Him with what He has given me. I cannot hide it. I cannot hoard it. It builds up, bringing forth a burst, an explosion of kept memoirs that were never meant to be hidden or buried. It releases a flame of hope; of encouragement. It is designed to help untangle a messy life and try to understand it's contents. It's one way God uses to communicate with me. As I write, He speaks. He helps me figure things out. The puzzle pieces begin to fit together as each piece is laid out and identified.  Writing helps me figure things out, but also lays things down.

Ann Voskamp writes to the glory of God, and look how it has glorified Him:

:: Post originally published in 2011::
—God used my own words to speak to me today