A place of writing and reflection…
I suppose there’s a lot of reasons why people write and there are several I could cite here as well.
Truth be told though, I use to hate it—with a passion.
I’d have rather been drawing than to be caught with a pencil in my hand writing another book report for class. In third grade (and perhaps again in fourth), I recall arguing with my teacher about a particular assignment.
It involved writing.
It might have been a story as for some reason in third and fourth grade you had to learn a variety of writing styles: story, persuasive, descriptive, etc.
At the time I despised writing. If I could get out of it I would.
“Everywhere you go you will need to know how to write,” my teacher remarked.
“Well that’s not going to matter too much to me,” I replied, “Because I’m going to be an artist, and artists don’t have to write.”
My teacher just smiled with an “Oh really” kind of gaze.
“Well what about when you have to write a receipt for one of your customers buying a piece of your art?”
She had me. She was right, though I still refused to admit it in my stubbornness. Nor did it change my dislike for writing in the least.
Funny thing is though, I always had a story in my head.
Sometimes it was some make-believe thing I came up with or some story my friends and I concocted to go with some video game characters we liked. Other times it was me, trying to put myself in the story line of one of my favorite TV shows. I would imagine how I would react to certain characters in different situations or how I would attempt to save the day.
We have funny imaginations as children don’t we?
Still I didn’t like to write them. I’m really not sure how I ever got out of that phase.
In high school writing came to me much easier, though it was still not the best. I had a story, however, that seemed to stay stuck in my mind that wouldn’t stop rolling around in my mind so I began to write it out.
A lot of people were surprised, and a lot of people liked it.
But I never finished it.
It still sits incomplete.
I tried drawing it out as an entire comic which became quite over whelming. You have story boards, panel layout, penciling, ink and don’t forget the color! Don’t get me wrong I still love to draw, but it was all too much and my mind can spit out ideas faster than I can put them down. I even went back and tried the book thing again.
I was still working on it and another all the way up until I moved to Missouri—both of which I had to put on hold for the sake of Bible College.
Somewhere midway through my last year or maybe it was my first we were given a creative writing assignment—the kind I had begun to love over our research papers. We were to write a short story, or poem collection of no more than ten pages.
To some of you ten pages might be a lot and for a research paper it is, but for creative writing, not so much. It would not take me long to fill up twenty pages!
I thought about the project for quite some time when the thought of my first story came to mind. Perhaps I could use a chapter? Of course I would need to fill in some of the background but it would be possible.
I ran the idea by my teacher and she approved.
With that I set to work sifting my work to pick a chapter and painstakingly editing it and having others revise it as well.
The project was a success.
Oddly enough, with the project came a new (yet old) desire to write for people.
Previously I had written for my own enjoyment or to clear the ideas from my head so I could start afresh—however that works.
Now I had begun to desire to write for the fact of the opportunity to impact other people. It didn’t matter whether they liked it or not, but that it did something to the reader. My reader was able to take something away from the words I had written.
Of course this impact can’t come from me.
I had tried that and failed miserably to complete anything I started. In fact that was my very doubt when I started this blog, The Faithbook.
“Let’s see if I can keep this project from falling off the face of the Earth.”
In March 2011, after much deliberation, I started The Faithbook; it’s first article being “A Man’s Heart is His Home“. I wrote it at a prayer service one Saturday night and had passed it on to several people since.
Yet the few people around me were not all who were suppose to read it. There were more. How many I still don’t know.
My first year with this blog did alright I suppose as I didn’t keep it updated as much as I probably could have, but the longer I’ve had it, the more I love to do it.
Kind of strange—I went from hating to write to loving it.
Of course my purpose in writing has changed as well. I no longer write for my own amusement but for the sake of others. In fact this blog’s purpose is to serve others through writing. I’m not sure if that makes sense to you, but it is.
Of more recently, I have added to The Faithbook the lesser of my two age old stories “The Artist: From Dark to Light“. Maintenance on this site has however been lacking, though there are still loyal readers even if they may have to wait a bit for the next chapter. (Something I’ve been feeling guilty about lately.)
Added to these two, my original story has also come back to haunt me as well. I think God is challenging me to do the same with it.
“What good is it doing on paper in a box? That’s not what it’s for.”
“But I’d rather it be a book…and wouldn’t I be rushing it as a blog? Or is that just me getting anxious and wanting to take the lazy route about it and slap it on a blog? I already have two—can I possibly maintain and third? That’s a lot of work.”
As you can see I have quite the debate going, but I have a feeling this one will soon be added to The Faithbook’s line up also.
In the meantime, I will continue to add whatever it is God prods me to add—even if it is with some argument. But then I again I do not write for myself, but for the people who take the time to read if you may have stumbled across this site by accident as a few have confessed they have.
Hopefully there will be something here, specifically for you to read that will totally make your day.
And thank you for reading.
Copyright The Faithbook 2012