So far this year, I’ve posted something on this blog every day. That’s been one of my goals, and so far it’s worked out.
That doesn’t mean I write everyday, though. Usually my writing comes in spurts, as time allows. Usually I can write for a few moments on three or four weekday mornings – I usually write the Bible study series during these times, and I usually write on Saturday mornings before Sweet Wife and I head out for our weekly breakfast, and then I’ll usually be able to steal away for a few other moments to write a bit. Kind of like right now. The house has settled down for the night, and I would love to be in bed, but I’m trying to post something everyday on this blog, and unless I finish this post, there won’t be anything for tomorrow (or the day you are reading this).
So in these few moments of time I’ve found tonight to write, my mind went totally blank. Nothing. Writer’s block, I guess, because there wasn’t a single idea in there. But as I sat down in my office chair and stared at the screen, I wondered again why I’m even doing this, why I’m writing. And then it came to me. I thought, “why don’t I just share one reason why I write.”
I guess inspiration, at least a small dose of it struck, because here I am already four paragraphs into this piece.
So why do I write? Well, this may sound sort of weird, but I’m actually writing this blog to my family. Sweet Wife actually reads this blog from time to time, though I don’t like to talk to her face-to-face about it (that means don’t bring up this post, Sweet Wife), but when I write “family,” I’m actually referring to Sweet Wife and my kids. Right now, they won’t care a bit about my writing. They wouldn’t read it and they probably wouldn’t get much out of it (so don’t mention it to them, Sweet Wife). But I’m hoping later on in life, when they are ready, that this might be something they could look back on and hopefully use to understand me a little better. I haven’t always been a very good dad, for various reasons, and I’d like for them to see another side of me. I’d like for them to see how I try to express myself, to see things that interest me and, most importantly, to be able to share more of my faith with them.
Most of the time, as I’m writing, I have a reader in mind and most of the time the image of that reader is my kids twenty or so years from now. (No, I don’t picture you, Sweet Wife, that would be too embarrassing.)
So there it is. My reason number one for writing: to talk to my kids.