They say never treat your blog like a journal, well, unless it is in fact your journal. If that’s the case, chances are, it’s password protected so that your deepest thoughts don’t spill out into cyberspace. They also say be consistent. Meaning, if your readers have come to expect posts to hit their inbox on Thursdays (eh, hem) don’t suddenly throw one their way come Friday. Especially not directly after publishing a previous post.
And when I say they, I sort of mean me as I’ve taught on blogging enough to know the rules.
But then … enters Jesus, and grace slices through every rule and expectation.
I’m writing this post from a beautiful, busy, loud yet quiet hotel in the heart of Nashville where I’ve been surrounded by brilliance, creativity, anxiety, energy, friends, strangers … and Jesus.
Amidst it all, He’s beckoned to me, “Come. Sit. Rest.”
To be fully, deeply known and even more deeply loved. To feel that love reaching to your very depths–this is why I write. This is the feeling I wish to convey in every novel and blog post I send out, and yet, how can I express a love so deep, so true and pure, it arrests every fear, every hurt? A love so deep, when enveloped in it, it’s as if the world disappears. Or comes into sharper focus as it wells within, drawing one deeper into that love but also outward to whoever is standing near?
This is why I write–to somehow describe the indescribable, to give others the glimpse of this love and joy that is beyond comprehension. To somehow reveal the God who pursues this broken world with a passion and intensity that captivates, with a gentleness that embalms.
And yet, though I’m a writer, words fail me.