..out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks. —Matthew 12:34
I find it fascinating how much I’ve learned about myself through writing.
My journals were always enlightening, but when I began sharing my writing with others, it amplified my awareness of where I actually was—my faith, my relationships, my habits, and even those ugly areas that still surface from time to time.
Most of my writing has always been like a devotional—sometimes even a little preachy. I never thought much about it. I was simply full of things to say, and most of what filled my heart was my relationship with Jesus and the Scriptures.
Some people appreciated it. Others didn’t.
As I walked through more trials and storms, I began noticing patterns in my writing. Some pieces started sounding like rants toward church leaders or criticisms of church culture. Other devotionals were really expressions of my own wounds, even though I kept sharing them publicly.
When Substack changed and I started focusing more on notes and conversations instead of emails, I found myself chasing connection—looking for people who might understand the struggles that seem to follow me.
And I discovered something important.
Everyone understands on some level.
Story after story, people share their hearts hoping someone will see them, hear them, and remind them that their story matters. Not everyone shares the same pain, but that longing to be seen, known, and somehow useful to others—it’s everywhere.
For a while, I became discouraged. A few comments or criticisms stung deeply and they weren’t even at me. Rather than get pulled into arguments, I stepped back.
But I realized something: criticism is everywhere—whether in person or online. Everyone has opinions about everyone else’s journey.
Eventually I had to ask myself an honest question:
Why am I writing?
Was I writing to process my life with God, or was I writing hoping to be understood and affirmed by others?
At times I was doing both.
That’s when it became clear that I was losing my why. I was getting caught in comparison, pressure, and the subtle obligation to keep producing.
It’s amazing how easy it is to drift off the narrow path that leads to life.
So I didn’t stop writing.
But I slowed down sharing.
When I went back and read many of those posts—the ones that could have kept my momentum going—I began to see a pattern. I saw my own path unfolding. I saw Jesus gently and patiently leading me while I wrote about what bothered me, what helped me, and what I hoped might help others.
And I realized why God had me slow down.
He was inviting me into a deeper level of intimacy that comparison would have stolen. My desperation to be understood would have constantly frustrated that process.
And He shined a light on the root of what had me going in circles.
Covetousness.
I wanted support that I felt I wasn’t receiving.
I wanted stronger community.
I wanted family restoration.
I wanted to make a bigger impact than I felt I was making.
And strangely, whenever I did receive positive feedback, it sometimes scared me even more.
I once heard a pastor say,
“However many people you can help, that’s how many you can hurt.”
And I’ve already hurt enough people in my life to know the weight of that truth.
There is a fear that comes from feeling like you’re not living up to your potential.
But there’s also a fear that comes with the responsibility of influence.
As long as I stayed caught in comparison and fear, I could never be confident in what God had actually called me to do.
And here’s what I’ve discovered about how good my Father is.
He gave me the freedom to learn.
Sometimes I feel clearly led in a direction. Other times I write and sense that it was simply something God wanted to work out in me privately.
But more often than not, I believe my Heavenly Father simply delights that I love to write—and that I love to write about Him.
He cares that I’m troubled when people treat one another harshly. But He also reminds me that I can trust Him with the outcomes. Through prayer and simple trust, He teaches me that I am able to walk through whatever comes.
If He hasn’t given clear direction, I can still move forward with the desires He’s placed in my heart, trusting that He has already prepared good works for me to walk in.
I am free to try, fail, learn, and try again—because Jesus died to set us free.
Perfect love casts out fear.
When I am truly convinced that my Father loves me, I can run and explore what He has placed in front of me. And if I wander off the path, He loves me enough to discipline me and teach me His ways.
His discipline is not rejection.
It is a gift.
Consequences are often how we learn.
Most of us will never hear the audible voice of God, but He promises that if we seek Him, we will find Him. He faithfully answers every prayer that draws us back to the understanding of His love—because His love is the foundation of everything.
Jesus doesn’t simply love me.
He is the love I build my life upon.
And when my life is built on that foundation, the fruit of it will ultimately please the Father.
God never expected perfection from me.
But He invites me into transformation.
And while it breaks His heart when we suffer unnecessarily, He is always ready—always waiting—longing to show His goodness to those who seek Him.
That’s why I write.
Because God loves me.
And He gave me a desire to work out my salvation openly, with reverence and humility, knowing that sanctification can be painful—but it always leaves us looking more like Jesus.
And that is why we live and breathe and have our being.
Christ in me—the hope of glory.
Scripture To Meditate On
Galatians 5:1
“Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage.”
Matthew 7:13–14
“Enter ye in at the strait gate: for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leads to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat: Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leads to life, and few there be that find it.”
Ephesians 2:10
“For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.”
1 John 4:18
“There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love.”
Hebrews 12:6
“For whom the Lord loves he disciplines , and scourges every son whom he receives.”
Hebrews 12:11
“Now no discipline for the present seems to be joyous, but grievous: nevertheless afterward it yields the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby.”
Jeremiah 29:13
“And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart.”
Philippians 2:12–13
“Wherefore, my beloved, as ye have always obeyed, not as in my presence only, but now much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling.
For it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure.”
Acts 17:28
“For in him we live, and move, and have our being; as certain also of your own poets have said, For we are also his offspring.”
Colossians 1:27
“To whom God would make known what is the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles; which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.”