Why I Write

When I activated my Substack account several months ago, I had good intentions of posting weekly or at least regularly. But good intentions (mine, anyway) have a way of going awry. This summer has turned out to be more challenging than I expected as expectations – like good intentions – also have a way of going awry. But on this sultry afternoon, with a little downtime on my hands, I’ve taken myself and my brand-new laptop out to my screened-in deck in hopes that the forecasted thunderstorms will hold off until dark. We’ll see if a post ensues.

During this challenging summer while not writing anything, I have been thinking a lot about why I write or why I want to write or why I even think I could write. Especially on Substack, filled as it is with so many writers far more talented than I. And likely with something of far more value to say. Intimidating to say the least. Overwhelming, too. The sheer volume of posts and notes and chats the writers I subscribe to or follow put out makes me wonder if I really belong on Substack. At my very best, I could never manage that much engagement with readers.

But as AI seems to be flooding all the creative spaces formerly inhabited by human beings, if for no other reason, I write because I can. My writing talent is small – I'm not a creative in the way we seem to use that term these days. But it is the talent God has given me, and I think He expects me to cultivate it and use it. The ability to write creatively – whatever the genre or however great or small the ability – is a gift the Creator God has given to humans. We shouldn’t be offloading it to AI. AI has its uses, I know. But writing creatively shouldn’t be one of them.

So, though I’m still overwhelmed and intimidated and really not sure what I’m doing here, I want to keep writing. Like my Substack account, my writing has been pretty dormant for a long while. I’ve allowed so many things to get in the way of doing something I really love to do that – to some extent – I've lost confidence in my ability to do it. I doubt I’m the only person who feels this way, especially in my age range. Life does seem to get in the way. Challenging summers are followed by challenging falls and challenging falls by challenging winters, and so on. It’s easy to push aside the things we want and love to do while we attend to life.

One thing I know, though, is that writing nourishes my spirit – and maybe, occasionally, something I say will nourish someone else’s. So, for now, I intend to keep on writing even if I can’t post quite as often as I’d like or engage with readers to the degree that others can. Or come up with the most artistic way of expressing myself, for that matter. I’d love to be able to do all those things. But one of the many benefits of getting older is a greater understanding of our limitations, and those are mine. You have your own. But limitations aside, if you’re grappling with challenges of your own, find a way to do the creative thing that nourishes your spirit. Don’t let AI rob you of the joy.