Our motivations often have more layers than we realize. But if we set aside the sinful, self-serving motives lurking around the edges of a Christian’s heart, I’d say one of my primary motivations for writing is joy. I really do enjoy tinkering with words that point people to God. I’ve heard a famous Christian author say that for him, writing is like eating ice cream, not a “have to” but a “get to.” I feel the same, although it wasn’t always this way.

The Backstory

In college I studied Mechanical Engineering for three reasons: first, my father was an engineer, so it felt familiar; second, I excelled at math and science; and third—and this might be the key reason why I chose engineering—I hated to read and write. Hated it. Perhaps the feeling isn’t so uncommon. Tony Reinke writes in Lit! that most people view reading “like trying to drink down a huge vitamin” (p. 15). With few exceptions, that’s what reading and writing were to me, the yuk of drinking a tall, chalky glass of Flintstones.

For the Joy of It

When I began following Christ in college, all that changed. As I read and studied Christianity—informally on my own and then later in seminary—new joys and passions and hopes bubbled up within me, as though some chemical reaction was being cooked over a Bunsen burner. Through listening to good preaching, I felt God was calling me to preach. The call to preach seemed to pounce on me, irrevocably so, while listening to other men preach and feeling my mind and affections doused in a kind of spiritual kerosene so that I just knew I wanted to, in fact had to, be involved in doing this for others.

During the early days of this feeling, if I could have hit pause during a sermon by any one of the many gifted preachers I was listening to in those days, I think I would have described the experience this way:

What God is doing right now, through that guy, on that stage, behind that pulpit, as he explains that passage and the glory of God and the beauty of the gospel, with those words and those gestures, and that tone, and with all of that love and passion and urgency such that my heart is prodded and my mind is riveted—well, someday I just have to be involved in sharing that good news with others.

This is what I mean when I say that my calling to preach came not only through opportunities to preach but also, even predominantly, through having it done to me.

The experience has been the same with my call to write. In his insightful book about the craft of writing, Stephen King put it this way: “Being swept away by a combination of great story and great writing—of being flattened, in fact—is part of every writer’s necessary formation. You cannot hope to sweep someone else away by the force of your writing until it has been done to you.” (On Writing, p. 146). Through reading good writing, I felt God calling me to write. The reaction felt explosive, if only in my heart—or to use King’s words, flattening.

Yet, the transition from an engineer to a preacher-writer came with many frustrations. In seminary I struggled more than others with the demands to read and write. However, after lots of practice, much of it forced upon me by seminary and pastoral ministry, I can honestly say my frustration with drinking down vitamins grew into love. I had acquired the taste.

For the Obedience of It

In addition to joy, my other primary motivation for writing is obedience. I’ve joked before that I do not have a writing “boss.” All my projects and deadlines are self-inflicted. But I do hope that I treat writing the way the lay-elders of our church treat their pastoring: serving the church is something they enjoy but also something they feel called by God to do. In other words, we do have a boss. Our pastoring, and I trust my writing, is done at the invitation and the command of God.

These two motivations, joy and obedience, mingle together in the name of my blog: Fan and Flame. It’s an allusion to 2 Timothy 1:6 where Paul told Timothy to “fan into flame the gift of God.” I take the command to mean that the young pastor must do whatever is necessary to keep the fire burning. If only embers remain, well then, you get on your hands and knees, put your nose in the kindling, and blow. Never mind the smoke searing your eyes—you keep the fire alive. Indeed, toil to make it grow.

For the Pursuit of Accessible, Riveting Scholarship

Over the years, I’ve settled on a few short phrases to capture what I’m trying to do when I write: I write accessible, riveting scholarship to fan into flame joy in God. People do not normally associate scholarship with accessible and riveting, but that is the cluster I aim for. By scholarship I don’t mean the use of big words but the best insights about a given topic such that the writing has an awareness of what others have said and are saying; by accessible I mean avoiding technical, insider language and the effort to make the complex simple; and by riveting I mean striving for command of the craft that holds attention, for the kind of writing that engages the head and heart, the kind of writing I like to read.

It feels goofy to write out my purpose statement for someone else to see. Thus far, I’ve kept it hidden, like a compass in my pocket, only pulling it out occasionally to double-check my trajectory. But the phrasing has brought needed focus to my writing even if I never produce anything worthy of the label scholarship, accessible, or riveting. It’s a “shoot for the stars to hit the moon” sort of thing.

My book projects always target a particular audience, but I don’t have a specific age or gender in mind when I write more generally on my blog except to say I hope to reach the types of readers who might be in my church regularly on Sunday mornings.

People ask me why an engineer would ever become a preacher and writer. They typically want a sound bite answer. I’m not sure how to give them that. Maybe someday I will figure out how. For now, I suppose that I could say that it had something to do with vinegar and baking soda, corked and shaken.

* This summer I enrolled in the Gospel-Centered Discipleship Writing Cohort, a six-month coaching group. Our first assignment was to write our personal writing mission statement, as well as 800 words of explanation. My 800 words (plus a couple hundred extra) are above, and here’s my personal mission statement: I write accessible, riveting scholarship to fan into flame joy in God. The exercise stretched me. If you’ve ever had to do something similar for writing or pastoring or education or whatever, I’d love to hear about the experience, what you learned, and if there are enduring takeaways from the effort.  

** Photo by Sebastian Pociecha on Unsplash