Biblical poetry · August 27, 2026
Heartbeat of Story
If you’ve been set free, if your life has been changed, tell your story. Let the world know how the Lord delivered you from the enemy.

Your voice is the flavor, the fizz, and the flare,
The tilt of the eyebrow you slip in, mid-air,
The snap or the sigh in the words that you send—
Yes, it’s you on the page, my narrative friend.
Two writers may write of a bright orange sun,
Or funerals gloomy where no one has fun.
One writes hopeful. Another makes gloom—
Same sunrise but different emotional boom.
Are your characters cranky or full of cheer?
Do they charge ahead or hang back in fear?
Are you close as a whisper? Distant as space?
Voice sets the temperature, rhythm, and pace.
Now some writers shout, “Use first-person I.”
“It’s closer, deeper, and can make readers cry.”
And yes, when you want every tremble and twitch,
“I felt” and “I saw” might be a powerful switch.
But “I” is a tunnel—deliciously tight.
You see only one little lantern of light.
If secrets must widen or suspense must grow,
“I” might not give you enough room to show.
Then enter third-person, all nimble and spry,
With “he” and with “she” and a watchful eye.
It slips into a mind but can step out again—
A flexible friend with a curious pen.
Each voice must be different in rhythm and beat,
Some clipped and decisive, some lyrically sweet.
One notices battlefields, strategy, and land.
Others smell smoke and are clutching a hand.
So tinker with voices, using both distant and near.
Shift timelines with purpose. Make signposts appear.
For voice isn’t garnish or glittering power.
It’s narrative fuel in the storytelling tower.
Choose wisely, writer. Be bold in your art.
Let clarity guide you from the very start.
For voice is the engine, the spark and the shove—
The heartbeat that makes readers listen—and love.