There are so many people who write. Am I right? Just google ‘blogs’ and you’ll be at your computer scrolling through the list for a few weeks. Yep, there are quite a few.
So, why are you reading this one? And who am I?
My name is Celeste. I am seventeen years old. People say when a person writes they should get used to calling themselves a writer, but I’m not sure that will ever sink in for me.
Yes, I do write. I write essays for my english classes. I write poetry for the youth at my Church. At times, writing is the only way I can remember an eventful day. Evenso, it is hard for me to call myself a writer. I see a writer as someone who is employed by their literary creations and whose name and face are front and center on billboards or TV. They’re the person whose book gets transformed into a movie or whose blog garners millions of dollars and views. No matter how distorted of a view I might have, I still act based on that false pretext. But it can’t be that way; because in all truth, a writer is someone who merely writes, even if it’s something no one ever gets to or wants to read.
So, in essence, we are all writers.
It has always been intriguing to me the way someone can be with you one second and then gone the next. They are still sitting beside you, but their mind has been swallowed up by the world of words. Words are powerful and they can transport, dictate, coordinate, persuade, and build people up from the inside out. That is why I like to write. Because I can see this bursting potential behind every phrase or sentence, I want to access that potential and give it an avenue to be something more than just a bunch of words strung together into paragraphs. Words can have life. You just have to know how to nurture them.
It doesn’t stop there, though. Yes, I want to nurture words. It brings me contentment to do something I love, but without proper direction, my desire to write is not driven by purpose. I am lost. Within the countless lists of blogs, my writing would probably be a garbled mess tied together by some passionate lines but devoid of the glue that would hold everything together in harmony. I’d be missing direction. Thus, I write not just with a desire, but also with a purpose: to glorify the Lord because he offered me true life that doesn’t need fame, fortune, or happiness to be fulfilled. In Revelation, it says, “Worthy are You, our Lord and our God, to receive glory and honor and power; for You created all things, and because of Your will they existed, and were created.” When I write, my guidance comes from the creator of all things, so I can in turn be the writer He has made me to be as I guide the pen across the page.
That’s who I am. Now, who are you? Why are you reading this?
Assuredly, our paths don’t cross at random. Even if I can’t pinpoint exactly why my words interact the way they do with different people, I can safely say that God led you here. You may think that God is not real and that you are the one who found for yourself a good read. Nevertheless, I believe there is something deeper than what our eyes can see. Something deeper than the words we read.
There is purpose behind every word, every action, and every introduction we make. Whether we call ourselves a ‘writer’ or not, we all have some sort of purpose behind what we do. What’s yours?
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