In the 90's, spending a Saturday evening watching Miss America with the family wasn't unheard-of. All sorts of analysis could follow, but we'll leave that alone. I remember Miss America 1995, Heather Whitestone. She was a deaf ballerina, which was of course ironic considering she couldn't hear the music. She mentioned in an interview that each Christmas Eve, after her entire family was in bed, she had a tradition of dancing before God all by herself. She would do a ballet dance to praise him and thank him. That has never left me.
I'm trying my hand at writing at the very same moment the rest of humanity is, it seems. There is an outlet for every person who has ever spoken a word, wise or otherwise, and that's a good thing in a lot of ways. On the other hand, it is frustrating. What is the point of so many words? How many of them are actually being read? How many contain real truth and how many are just opinions that don't line up with real truth? What are we all doing throwing words into the atmosphere and hoping someone reads them? What's the point?
So far, not many people have heard my words, but there's something I want to remember just in case they ever do. Ann Swindell, my dear mentor, taught me early on to write for God's glory even if God is the only one who will ever read what you're writing.
Write for God as your reader.
How fascinating! But, dear Ann, he already knows what I'm going to say. If I'm not publicly bringing glory to him and pointing others to him, what's the point?
I remember as a child seeing couples cuddle in a way that was so endearing, so affectionate, so precious that I wanted to be in between them, all up in their cuddle. I was drawn to their love for one another. Sometimes, now, I will hear older women pray in a way that communicates that I'm just eavesdropping on a conversation that's happening all the time. I find myself wondering what it looks like for her to pray when no one is around and I am drawn in. I'm drawn to her love for Jesus and his his love for her. I'm drawn to what goes on behind the scenes, by just that blip of seeing the curtain pulled back.
This is the essence of Christian writing.
No one reads what I write except my husband and my mom, and boy are they great readers! But really, what I write as I process life through the lens of the love of Jesus is an ongoing conversation between God and me. This brings him glory to him through the words that I string together. He likes words. They are important to him. After all, he is The Word.
That is not only the point of writing, but the point of life. So, like Heather Whitestone and her Christmas Eve dance, this blog and all the other white paper that I fill is to bring my Father glory with the knowledge that, most likely, he is the only one who will ever see it and that's not only ok, it's precious. The most important One sees it, the One who makes sense of everything else.