I once balked at the idea of blogging. And it took a while before I gave in and committed to once a month on my website. Maybe the core reason was the belief that a personal blog puts focus on the blogger rather than the books written. Then again, as a reader, I enjoy learning about an author’s personal life.
Other writers might consider that a weird attitude. Many authors blog on a regular basis for a year or two before they publish. They don’t always talk about themselves. Topics are similar, designated just for writing tips, or interesting passions that have a personal meaning to the blogger. My view is, especially if it’s a daily blog, all that time writing blogs takes away from authoring books. I admire those who can do both.
I’ve been writing more years than I care to admit, and still have the conviction that my words, with the Lord’s guidance, are my evangelical witness. As yet, that desire drives my life.
A bit of testimony here. I grew up attending church, familiar with John 3:16. But I knew nothing about a personal relationship with the Lord Jesus. He started drawing me to Himself following the unsolved murder of my father in April 1975. After Dad’s funeral a rainbow arched over his grave and it was as though God spoke to my heart. “I promise to take care of you. I’ll make everything right. I’m here.”
Seventeen days later, my son Clark was born. Six months went by, and then my husband Bill fell off our roof and crushed both heels. During Bill’s surgery I picked up a Bible from the hospital waiting room, my only source of comfort. The following spring, I was invited to attend a luncheon. That day, April 20, 1976 (46 years is a lifetime), the speaker talked directly to my heart. A heart the Holy Spirit had prepared, and my life changed.
I recognized sin for what it is, an incurable inheritance, that only belief in Jesus as my personal Savior can erase. Life as a believer is far from easy. But for reasons known only because of God’s sovereignty, He chose me to be His daughter, and He views me as righteous. That alone, is what keeps me keeping on.
And, oh, how I love rainbows, and butterflies, and grandchildren. Can’t forget purple. I’ve said all that before. In a nutshell, He has blessed me beyond measure. As long as God gives me a little something to say, I’ll write.