June 6, 2004
Why do I write?
I am faced with that question today. I pondered it when I sang, “I’m willing to walk with You Jesus. I’ll follow You down any road. I’m willing to walk with you Jesus. Wherever You go, I will go.”
I’ve been miring through moving overseas lately, considering the cost of it. I realized I’m not following a traditional road in terms of my publishing path and I am having to place my writing career at the foot of the cross. For Jesus to hold.
We are moving to France, a dark land. On our prayer card, we list this Scripture: “Bringing the Message into those places where Jesus is not yet known and worshipped” (Romans 15:20b, MSG). We long to see God’s renown resound in Europe. We long to bring a message of hope to a hopeless land. We leave two months from today. We pack up our home—a home that has yet to sell—to move to another home we have yet to find.
Several months after that, two books I’ve written will be released in the United States. I’ll admit, I’ve fretted about it. The publishing mavens say an author has to do promotion—speak, go to book-signings, schmooze, etc. I’m not sure how I can do that from overseas. Of course, I will do whatever needs to be done, whatever I can do to spread the message of those books. But, I will only be able to do so much.
I have come to the place—and it’s been a difficult road to walk—where I realize that following Jesus is paramount to all things, to all words, to all hopes. I believe He has called me to write, to announce Him, to bring healing in His name, to expand His kingdom by the power of the Holy Spirit through my pen. I will follow Him down any road, even if it seems crazy. Even if my books are released on the soil of a different land. Even if it means publishers shun me.
My allegiance must first be to the Man who bled on the tree, who dared to stoop to my level, who left the renown of heaven for the dusty roads of earth. He lived in perfect communion in heaven. He experienced the glory due His name there. And yet, He left, leaving behind the beauty so that He could beautify His marred creation. Can I do no less?
Perhaps God is calling Christian writers to lay their personal glory aside, just as Jesus laid His aside, for the sake of God’s greater renown. Perhaps He is more interested in our willing hearts than our willing pens.
I am just a simple gal, of humble circumstance. God chooses foolish things to shame the wise, to confound the strong. Twenty-two years ago, He saw me—a broken teenager with no father—and chose me. A foolish girl for an extraordinary God. How can I not trust Him with such a small thing as writing?
Writing with all I have,
For His glory,