Words That Carry God’s Light

If God is at work in the world of your novel, then you have a chance at giving your readers an experience that is humbling, joyful, and maybe even transforming. — Donald Maass

Writers rarely suffer from a shortage of words. The English language gives us hundreds of thousands of them, and the supply keeps growing. New words appear. Old words acquire new meanings. Expressions that communicated perfectly twenty years ago may sound strange, outdated, or even mean something entirely different.

But we face a deeper challenge than simply keeping up with vocabulary. We don’t merely need more words.

Having Something to Say Isn’t Enough

Many writers have more ideas than they could ever develop. A notebook may contain fifty book concepts. A computer folder may hold unfinished articles, devotionals, poems, novels, teaching materials, and outlines. Another idea can arrive before breakfast.

The problem isn’t always creativity. Sometimes the problem is direction.

A farmer could plant every seed he owns, but that doesn’t mean every seed belongs in this particular field or is for this particular season. Some should be planted now. Some should wait. Some may never be planted at all. Writing can work the same way.

We may be capable of producing enormous quantities of material, yet productivity alone doesn’t determine faithfulness.

We are God’s creative work, brought to life in Jesus Christ with purpose. He has given us words, ideas, and stories so we can do the meaningful work he prepared for us long before we ever picked up a pen. — Ephesians 2:10 Scripture for Writers

Our goal is the meaningful work God has prepared for us. Instead of asking ourselves, “What could I write?” we should ask God, “What should I write?”

God Sees the Reader You Can’t See

When you write something today, you usually don’t know who may encounter it tomorrow.

• You don’t know what that person will be facing.

• You don’t know what question has been troubling them.

• You don’t know what prayer they prayed the night before.

• You don’t know whether your words may become encouragement, correction, explanation, comfort, or confirmation.

But God does.

• A writer sees the keyboard. God sees the reader.

• A writer sees the paragraph. God sees where that paragraph may eventually travel.

That’s one reason following God’s direction matters more than simply maximizing output. When does a blog, article, or book become significant? When God’s truth reaches just one person at exactly the right moment.

Inspiration Can’t Be Manufactured

Most writers have had those strange moments when words seem to arrive almost fully formed. A sentence appears. Then another. An idea connects with something you hadn’t previously considered. The writing seems to move through you rather than come from you.

We should be cautious about claiming that every such experience is supernatural. Writers have active subconscious minds, accumulated knowledge, creative instincts, and years of experience. But we want to always be open to his continued involvement in our use of God’s gifts.

• Creativity itself is a gift.

• Insight is a gift.

• Opportunity is a gift.

Even the desire to communicate truth can be a gift.

What we can’t do is force inspiration. You can prepare the desk. You can open the document. You can research carefully. You can develop your craft. You can sit down to write faithfully every day. But you can’t command God to hand you a brilliant paragraph at 9:17 tomorrow morning.

Our Responsibility Is Availability.

Think of a radio receiver. It can’t create the broadcast. It can only be positioned and tuned to receive what is being transmitted. Prayer, Scripture, humility, observation, study, and quiet attentiveness help keep writers spiritually tuned.

Then, when something worth saying comes, we’re ready to write.

The Word Behind Our Words

For Christians, the subject of words eventually leads to something much greater than vocabulary. John begins his Gospel with one of Scripture’s most profound declarations:

The Word became human and we have seen the majestic splendor of Jesus Christ, the Word of Life, and the glory of the only son of the Father. — John 1:14

Jesus wasn’t merely someone who spoke God’s message. He was God’s message embodied. God’s character became visible. God’s love walked roads. God’s compassion touched lepers. God’s truth sat beside sinners. God’s holiness entered human history.

That gives Christian writers an important model. Our best words should do more than communicate information. They should help make truth visible.

• Instead of merely writing, “God is compassionate,” tell the story of compassion.

• Instead of saying, “Forgiveness matters,” show what forgiveness costs.

• Instead of announcing, “Faith requires trust,” take the reader into a moment when trust became necessary.

Jesus didn’t merely define truth. He demonstrated it. Writers can do something similar.

Words Can Shine Light, but They Can’t Force Sight

Writers sometimes believe that if they could only construct the perfect argument, everyone would agree. That’s rarely true.

Two people can read exactly the same evidence and reach completely different conclusions because interpretation involves much more than information. Desire, experience, assumptions, pride, fear, worldview, and willingness all affect what someone is prepared to hear.

Jesus performed miracles in front of people who still refused to believe him. The problem wasn’t insufficient evidence. Sometimes people simply don’t want the conclusion toward which the evidence points. That’s why Paul warned Timothy:

Don’t entertain ignorant and irrelevant questions that create strife and profit nothing. — 2 Timothy 2:23

The Christian writer’s job is to present truth faithfully, not to win every argument. Imagine standing beside a dark path with a lantern. Your responsibility is to hold up the light. You can’t force another traveler to open his eyes. That distinction can save enormous frustration for us.

• Some readers genuinely want to understand. Serve them.

• Some readers disagree but remain willing to listen. Respect them.

• Some readers only want a fight. You don’t have to accept every invitation to one.

Don’t Use God as an Argument

Few statements carry less spiritual authority than: “God told me.” Why? Because anybody can say that, which is why Christians should use those words carefully. When we attach God’s name to our convictions, we move the discussion onto dangerous ground. We’re no longer saying, “This is what I believe.” We’re saying, “God has spoken, and disagreement with me is disagreement with him.” That’s an extraordinary claim, even if it’s true.

Better might be:

• “I believe God may be leading me toward this.”

• “This is what I understand Scripture to be saying.”

• “I have prayed about this and believe this is the direction I should take.”

Then present the truth as clearly as possible and allow readers to wrestle with it. If something genuinely reflects God’s truth, it doesn’t need our claims to make it powerful.

Truth can stand on its own feet.

Write for the Reader Who Is Looking for Light

Every writer develops an imaginary audience. For Christian writers, one especially valuable reader to imagine is the person quietly searching for truth.

Perhaps that reader isn’t hostile to God. Perhaps they’re simply confused. They’ve heard contradictory voices. They’ve experienced disappointment. They’ve watched Christians behave badly. They’ve encountered shallow answers to complicated questions. They don’t necessarily need someone shouting louder. They need someone turning on a light.

You are here to give light to the whole world. A city built on a hilltop cannot be hidden. — Matthew 5:14

Light doesn’t argue with darkness. It simply shines. Your writing can do the same.

Fewer Words Can Carry Greater Power

Writers often assume that importance requires length. It doesn’t. Some of history’s most memorable statements are remarkably short.

Wise words can prod readers forward, and well-crafted truths can fasten themselves in the heart like firmly driven nails. The best words ultimately come from the one Shepherd who guides both writer and reader. — Ecclesiastes 12:11

A good sentence can stick. A great sentence can redirect someone. The strongest paragraph in your book may be the paragraph from which you removed half the words. Editing therefore becomes more than polishing grammar. It becomes a search for clarity.

Ask:

• Does this sentence help?

• Does this paragraph reveal something?

• Am I repeating myself?

• Am I using impressive language when simple language would communicate better?

• Am I writing this because the reader needs it—or because I enjoy hearing myself say it?

Good writing isn’t measured by how many words remain. It’s measured by how many unnecessary words are gone.

Ask for the Right Words

Before writing, we often ask God for ideas. Perhaps we should ask for something more specific.

Give me the words this reader needs. Not the cleverest words. Not the most impressive words. Not necessarily the most words. The right words.

We can develop our vocabulary, improve our storytelling, study grammar, learn structure, practice dialogue, sharpen descriptions, and strengthen our editing. Those things matter enormously. But beyond all those skills remains a prayer no writing course can replace: Lord, help me know what needs to be said, who needs to hear it, and how it should be said.

When our words are right, perhaps readers will look beyond our words and see the One who gave truth its meaning.

For a practical guide to storytelling, check out Storytelling at Its Best

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