This morning, I received a card from someone who read my recent article, Reflections on Citizenship, published in our local newspaper. It was a surprise and a gift.

Over the past year, I’ve become more intentional about writing—thanks in large part to an excellent article I read titled Writing as a Spiritual Discipline by Stephanie Paulsell. You can read it here.

I’ve come to realize that writing can be a powerful spiritual discipline. It helps me pay closer attention—to God, to others, and to myself. As I write, I think more deeply. I slow down. I notice. I begin to articulate what was once vague or scattered. It’s like crafting a piece of jewelry. At first, it’s rough and unshaped, but as I write, something beautiful begins to emerge. The dots connect. Meaning appears.

Now, I try to make space for writing each day. It’s much like gardening. This year, I planted tomatoes in my raised bed. They require daily care—watering, pruning, and regular feeding. In the same way, writing requires attention, patience, and practice.

Since the beginning of the year, I’ve made it a habit to write short reflections after reading a book or watching a film. I’ve been amazed by the insights that surface during this process. I’ve also started practicing public writing—submitting articles to the local newspaper and devotionals to The Upper Room.

The purpose isn’t simply to be published. Rather, I believe writing is an act of love. It is a way of giving and sharing. As I write, I picture the people I care about—my friends, my church family, and those who are struggling silently. I want my words to comfort, encourage, and bless.

Henri Nouwen once said, “Ministry means the ongoing attempt to put one’s own search for God—with all the moments of pain and joy, despair and hope—at the disposal of those who want to join this search but don’t know how.” I believe writing is like that. It’s beggar-to-beggar ministry.

So I write.