To the Christian Writer: Just Write
Moving from endless self-examination to simple trust in Christ's leading
For a good portion of my life, I spent more time analyzing my writing motives than actually writing.
Before each blog post, I'd spiral through the same questions:
Am I writing this for God's glory or my own?
Do I want people to think I'm smart?
Am I building my platform or His Kingdom?
What if I secretly just want to be famous?
One morning, after thirty minutes of spiritual navel-gazing, I realized I'd written exactly zero words.
But then, a gentle whisper cut through all the analysis in my head.
"What if I gave you the desire to write?"
The Tyranny of Motive-Checking
As Christian writers, we've been taught to guard our hearts above all else. This is biblical wisdom.
But somewhere along the way, many of us have twisted this into an exhausting practice of constant spiritual forensics.
We dissect every creative impulse. We scrutinize each ambition. We put our desires under such intense examination that we often kill them before they can bear fruit.
The questions never end:
Is it okay to want people to read my work?
Should I be excited about growing my email list?
Am I too invested in this writing dream?
Would a "real" Christian be content writing in obscurity forever?
Here's what I've discovered: this endless self-examination often isn't spiritual maturity.
It's spiritual paralysis.
And it might be keeping you from the very thing God has placed in your heart to do.
A Different Kind of Surrender
True surrender isn't about constantly checking your motives. It's about being genuinely open to whatever God wants—including the possibility that He GAVE you the desire to write.
Psalm 37:4 says, "Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart."
We often read this as God granting our wishes. But what if it means He actually places His desires in our hearts?
Paul takes it even further in Philippians 2:13: "It is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose."
God is actively working in you—shaping your desires, directing your will. When you're walking with Him, your desires aren't automatically suspect. They might actually be His desires in you.
The Freedom No One Talks About
What changed things for me was realizing that surrender brings freedom, not restriction.
When you've truly surrendered your writing to God, you don't need to constantly check your motives because:
You trust Him to redirect you if needed. God is big enough to close doors, change desires, and make His will clear. You don't have to micromanage His job.
You're already open to change. True surrender means you'd be genuinely okay if tomorrow He called you to stop writing entirely. But until He does? Write.
You believe He can work through imperfect motives. Even our best actions are mixed with selfish ambition. God knows this. He uses cracked vessels all the time.
You rest in His ability to purify you as you go. Sanctification happens in motion, not in paralysis. He shapes us as we move, not while we're stuck.
The Older Brother Problem
Remember the older brother in the prodigal son story? He lived on the farm his whole life but never understood that everything the father had was already his.
He lived like a servant, not a son.
Many Christians live this way—writers or otherwise—afraid to fully embrace their gift, constantly checking if it's "okay" to want what God may have placed in their hearts.
We're standing in the field, already home, asking permission to enjoy what's already ours.
What if God delights in your delight in writing?
What if He smiles when you craft that perfect sentence?
What if your joy in creating echoes His joy in creation?
A Simple Question
Here's the only question that really matters: Are you surrendered enough that you'd be okay if He led you elsewhere?
If yes, then write freely.
Stop the endless motive-checking. Stop the spiritual score-keeping. Stop treating your desire to write as automatically suspect.
You're not choosing between God and writing. You're not balancing competing loyalties.
You're a child of God who happens to write, and that writing can be just as spiritual as any other way His life flows through you.
The Path Forward
This week, try an experiment. Before you write, instead of examining your motives, simply pray: "Lord, I'm yours. Lead me."
Then write.
Trust that He's big enough to handle your heart. Trust that He can redirect you if needed. Trust that maybe, the desire burning in you is a fire He lit.
The truth is, when you're truly surrendered, you don't need to constantly check your motives. You're free to write with abandon, knowing that your Good Shepherd will guide you where you need to go.
And instead of being restrictive, the gift of surrender is freedom—freedom to fully engage with the gifts He's given, fully invest in the work He's called you to, and fully trust Him with the outcomes.
Write freely, my friend. He's got you.
I look forward to your posts, Grant. This one had me smiling because I wrote this line in a poem called "The Happy Octopus," and when awake at night I would repeat the line and almost giggle at how fun it sounded. I was surrendered, and it was delightful. Here's the line, "Like Russian dolls all lining up in their descending size, the suckers of my tentacles flow down my slippery sides." You have to wonder, didn't God thoroughly enjoy creating octopi?
So good man. I often forget how much my Father loves me and loves seeing me dive into things he created me to enjoy. Just like I love watching my oldest perform on stage for theater. Why would my Father not enjoy watching me pursue a desire he put there in the first place?