Writing and Faith: Guest Post

Note: Today, my friend and fellow writer, Ruth Ann from mytapestryofgrace.blogspot.com, is sharing some of her reflections on being a Christian writer as part of our first-ever guest blog post exchange. I loved her post on fear and writing (see https://mytapestryofgrace.blogspot.com/2020/06/fear.html), so I can’t wait for you to read her work here! -Abby

I sit at the edge of a cement block and watch the river flow past me. The geese honk some distance away. I don’t try to do anything or think about anything. I simply sit.

And then I think: how odd it is that the solid cement must confine the water. What a stark division. A division that humans created.

I take out my cell phone and start typing words.

When I’m not trying to make my mind think something, stories often come to me. Some would call it the inner voice. I call it the Holy Spirit.

Sometimes words flow from a place deep inside me that I wouldn’t be able to find if I tried. That’s the Holy Spirit. 

Sometimes I feel that I am simply a pencil in God’s great hand.

A while ago, I wrote a poem about the grief I felt about my mom’s death. One part of it went like this:

I want to share my mom with others,
But words fall short because in the end
They’re just words. They float in the air and disappear.
They don’t create flesh and blood.

Throughout my whole life, I had depended on words. Words came to life for me. Words painted pictures in my head of beautiful places I could escape to and characters I could relate to, whether that was reading or writing a story. But here, words failed me. Words fell short. Words could not bring my mother back to life. They could help me remember her, but in the end, she was still decaying in the cool, dank earth. And I’m still stuck here, awaiting my turn to die.

A while later, one of my closest friends gave me a precious gift. I can see it from where I’m sitting at my desk because I hung it on my wall. She framed my poem (which she neatly handwrote), and under each line of the poem, she wrote a Bible verse. Here’s what she wrote for that section of the poem:

But words fall short because in the end
It is the Lord that goes before you, he will be with you, he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed (Deut. 31:8)
They’re just words. They float in the air and disappear.
Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away (Matt. 24:35)
They don’t create flesh and blood.
And the Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only, who came from the father, full of grace and truth. (John 1:14)

I know that no matter how many words I write, or how many contests I win, or if I get published, that is not the end goal. The things of this earth are dimming, and once I die, perhaps humanity will completely forget about me. Or if Christ comes before I die, the joy I find in writing will dim in comparison with his radiant face. I may die, my words may die, but God’s words will never die. 

My goal and my prayer are that God uses my words to point to the eternal Word–Him!

-Ruth Ann (mytapestryofgrace.blogspot.com)