I ask myself that almost every day. Why should I write? What do I have to say? Where is this going?
The more I walk down the road the clearer it becomes. I don’t think I have arrived at an answer for all of that yet, but I’m getting closer.
I write because I believe there’s more. I write to express the possibility of there being more than what we can feel and see and smell and touch. Because I believe there’s more to life than even what our brilliance has explained. And I write because it’s hard to be sure of what we hope for, and it’s difficult to be certain of what we cannot see.
Maybe the words in my stories will cast a light in a dark place and help someone to see something they haven’t seen before. And what a wonderful thing it would be for the words that I put down to be picked up and carried further by someone else. That would be success.
I write because what many see, we call a real thing, but what only one sees we call a dream. I write for the dreams. I write for the reality that we’ve yet to uncover. I write because there’s more to this life than what we see.
I write because I think kids need to see examples of faith and hope and love against the backdrop of a world where those things are dismissed as being personality tendencies or social structures. I write because I believe God created the human personality, physiology, and perception, and I believe we’re intrinsically damaged until we know our creator.
I tell stories. The stories aren’t real, but the ideas they represent are. Because there is an ultimate truth, and his name is Jesus Christ.