I sat at my desk with my thoughts in a spin,
My pencil was tapping, but where to begin?
So many ideas had danced in my head,
But none of them whispered the words that I said.
I posted and planned and I typed with great flair,
But something felt missing—like God wasn’t there.
Not that he left, no, he’s always in place—
But I hadn’t paused to seek out his face.
So I closed every tab, turned the brightness down low,
And prayed, “Dear Lord, where do you want this to go?”
No outlines or filters, no posting for praise—
Just honest heart-writing that honors your ways.
“Your will,” I said softly, “is better than mine.
I’ll follow your prompt—your rhythm and rhyme.”
“You write the plot twist, and I’ll take the ride.
Just help me stay humble and walk by your side.”
AI may help me with grammar and style,
But it can’t feel your Spirit or sit here awhile.
It can’t sense your whisper or tug at my soul.
Only you, God, can help make me whole.
I’ve got so much passion, so much I could do,
But I don’t want to write what’s not coming from you.
I’ll take it one sentence, one moment, one day—
And trust that you’re guiding my hands as I pray.
So here is my contract. I’m signing it true.
“My stories, my poems, all belong to you.”
No platform, no praise, no spotlighted part—
Just let all the pages flow from my heart.
Some days will be quiet, with nothing to say.
Others will burst like a sunrise at play.
But whether it’s thunder or whisper or breeze,
Let every word bring people joy and peace.
So now, every writer, pick up that pen.
Invite your Creator to join you again.
For writing with God isn’t chasing a trend.
It’s walking beside your most faithful friend.
