The Overflow Principle

How to Create Content Without Running Dry

I love writing. I always have.

There's something about sitting down with a blank page and just letting thoughts flow into words. When inspiration strikes, I can write for hours, lost in the joy of expressing what God is doing in my life.

But lately, I've been thinking about writing more consistently online.

Starting a newsletter. Building a steady presence.

After all, that's what everyone says you need to do as a writer today. Show up consistently, rain or shine, inspired or not.

And something in me hesitates.

It's not the writing itself that gives me pause. It's the thought of turning this sacred space into a production schedule. Of having to manufacture spiritual insights every Tuesday at 9am (or whenever), whether they're ready to be shared or not.

I see other Christian writers managing it. They post regularly, and never seem to run dry. I find myself wondering: Are they just better at this than I am? Have they figured out some secret to turning inspiration into a reliable routine?

Maybe, though, we're thinking about this all wrong. Maybe the pressure to produce consistent content comes from a fundamental misunderstanding of how God's truth flows through us.

What if, instead of learning to manufacture living water on schedule, we're simply meant to overflow?

The Common Approach

The standard advice for online writers is clear: Pick your posting schedule and stick to it.

Create a content calendar. Build a backlog of posts. Treat your writing like a business—consistent, predictable, professional.

There is wisdom here. Readers do appreciate reliability. Algorithms reward consistency. And there's something to be said for the discipline of showing up regularly to write, even when you don't feel inspired.

But for Christian writers, this advice can lead us down a troubling path. We start viewing spiritual insights like inventory to be stockpiled. We begin treating our walk with God as raw material for content. Our quiet times subtly shift from communion to research—after all, we need something to write about this week.

Before we know it, we're trying to turn the gentle rhythms of spiritual life into a content production line.

And while we might succeed in creating regular posts, something vital gets lost. The very joy that first drew us to write begins to fade.

This isn't just about writer's block or creative burnout. It's about trying to mechanize something that was meant to flow naturally from relationship.

Psalm 23

"My cup runneth over," writes David in Psalm 23.

Think about what happens when a cup runs over. It doesn't strain or strive. It doesn't manufacture its contents. It simply receives until it overflows, and that overflow happens naturally, effortlessly.

This is a radically different way of thinking about Christian writing. Instead of seeing ourselves as content creators who need to constantly produce, what if we saw ourselves as cups being continually filled by God? The writing isn't something we generate—it's what spills over from a life lived in His presence.

This changes everything. Our primary focus shifts from output to intake. From production to presence. Instead of asking "What should I write about?" we begin asking "What is God pouring into my life?"

And here's the thing: A cup in the right position never runs dry.

What Fills Our Cup

So what fills our cup? The answer is probably different in some ways from person to person, but I think there are some universal truths:

Time in God's presence. Not with our writer's hat on, not mining for content, but simply being with Him.

Reading Scripture without an agenda. Praying without thinking about how to turn it into a post. Worshiping without taking notes. This is the living water that Jesus promised would become "a spring of water welling up to eternal life."

A daily experience of walking with God. Those quiet moments of insight during your morning coffee. The unexpected lessons in traffic. The deep truths that surface during conversations with friends. Life itself becomes a continuous filling of our cup when we learn to pay attention.

Study and learning. Reading deeply. Engaging with other believers. Wrestling with difficult questions. But not as material to repackage—rather, as part of our own growth and transformation.

Rest. A cup that's constantly pouring without pausing to recognize its filling will eventually feel like it’s running dry. Sabbath isn't just a break from creating—it's an invitation to be filled.

Ironically, when we focus on being filled rather than producing, we often find we have more than enough to share, not less.

Writing from Overflow

So what does this actually look like in practice? How do we write from overflow instead of manufacturing content?

For me, it starts with recognizing the signs. When your cup is full, you'll find yourself reaching for your notebook not because it's scheduled, but because you can't help it.

Ideas come naturally. Words flow easily. You're not writing to meet a deadline—you're writing because your heart is too full to contain it.

This doesn't mean abandoning consistency. Instead, it means building our routines around filling rather than producing.

Maybe you block off your first hour for time with God, knowing the writing will flow from there. Maybe you keep a notebook handy throughout the day, catching the overflow as it comes rather than trying to generate it on demand.

And those times when words don't come easily?

Take it as an invitation to return to the source. Sometimes what feels like writer's block is actually God's gentle reminder to be filled again first.

Remember that our role isn't to manufacture living water—it's to stay close to the Source and let Him flow through us.

Your writing doesn't have to be a constant struggle of production. It can be the natural overflow of a life lived in God's presence.

The question isn't whether you'll have enough to share—it's whether you're positioned to receive what God is already pouring out.