I suppose I’ve been writing in a serious way for a dozen years. I’m not considering the occasional article during college or the many research papers I had to write in high school or college. After all, everyone writes—if only to make the grade. Even the shorter little pieces for a local newspaper or denominational publication were, more than anything, testing the waters: Can I write anything that’s worth reading?
The jury is certainly still out on that question. But I’ve come to love writing and appreciate its ability to enrich the life of both writer and reader. I’ve reached that conclusion not so much due to my own writing as much as through reading the work of others—that of my peers and of literary friends from afar. Sitting down with a book each day, if only for five minutes, is like oxygen-rich blood pumping through the veins. To change metaphors, sometimes a small itch in our mind just needs scratching to be satisfied.
I should hasten to point out that the life of the mind, like anything in this world, can become an idol. Learning and knowledge in all of its many forms can become more significant to our sense of self and meaning than communion with God. And insomuch that any of us ever allow that error to creep into our soul, we should mortify it.
You don’t have to pursue a second or third graduate degree to be guilty of such idolatry either. The moment we place spiritual confidence in something besides Christ, we forfeit the true rest that comes from His grace and righteousness alone (Phil. 3:2–11).
A Surprising Gift
But before we diminish the value of learning—and the tools like writing and reading that make it possible—we should also remember that God has called us to love Him with our whole self, mind included. To feed and nourish our thinking is a necessary part of loving God well. And among those who feel especially inclined in this direction, they may come to see that ideas excite them. It isn’t that people or activities don’t. But expressing ideas with words gives us a chance to make sense of why and how people matter, why and how practices matter, and how best to love God in word, thought, and deed. From this perspective, we could easily see how writing is an act of discipleship.
I recall a quotation from James Sire’s classic work:
An intellectual is one who loves ideas, is dedicated to clarifying them, developing them, criticizing them, turning them over and over, seeing their implications, stacking them atop one another, arranging them, sitting silent while new ideas pop up and old ones seem to rearrange themselves, playing with them, punning with their terminology, laughing at them, watching them clash, picking up the pieces, starting over, judging them, withholding judgment about them, changing them, bringing them into contact with their counterparts in other systems of thought, inviting them to dine and have a ball but also suiting them for service in workaday life.[1]
Even if a person doesn’t prefer the term intellectual, if you like reading, and certainly if you like writing, this insight resonates with you. Writing is an expression of our thinking about the world and reality, whether people, practices, or ideas. God has graced the human race not only by disclosing Himself in Jesus Christ but also by allowing an account of His deeds in history and purposes for His people to be written down for us. Christians have the privilege to participate in this holy habit today.
The Three Phases of Writing
The most helpful way that I’ve come to think of writing is to see it in three different phases and to think of how writers see and experience those different phases.
Phase one
Phase one is thinking about writing itself. This phase describes the moment at which an idea is birthed in a writer’s mind. Thoughts converge over time, and occasionally rather quickly, and they become an idea that could potentially end up on paper. Before the pen is lifted or keys on the keyboard are struck, we think about the idea: Is it one simple thought, or a sweeping concept or philosophy? How many points or pieces comprise this idea? How have you seen it illustrated in the world or experienced it in your life? If it came from another author’s work, what were they trying to convey precisely when they wrote those words?
Some people call this the “research” or “brainstorming” phase, and that’s probably an apt description. While typically people are still thinking through their idea even while they write, most of the time the idea or argument is fairly thick inside someone’s mind or scratch notes before they ever write.
Some writers truly thrive in this phase. As one personality test I once took put it, “My Mind is an Interesting Place” (to which the respondent was asked to what degree they agreed with the statement). Most writers would say, “Absolutely, yes. I love to sit and think.” Not all writers, however, would say that they enjoy this phase. They don’t relish thinking about writing or what they will say. They would rather just start writing and see if it leads anywhere interesting. Or they like to think about writing, but they never get around to it.
Most of us could probably see where it is difficult to sustain the passion of writing if you aren’t energized by or dedicated to planning to write. I would venture to say someone isn’t actually a writer who feels this way.
Phase two
In phase two, however, the passions of planning find fulfillment on the page. You get to work with words. They’re your tool, your vehicle—yes, even your baby (No doubt this is why it takes a long time for writers to tolerate editors cutting words and phrases to which they’ve grown attached). Let’s call phase two the moment of “execution” or “expression.” You are composing whole sentences, transforming your outline from skeleton to full-form. The original idea has moved from embryo to infant. And as you move through phase two, you help the infant learn to eat on his own, walk, and come to maturity.
This phase typically is the longest, as a person is not only writing but also reading as they write, and usually rewriting. It’s often laborious and can become tedious unless the original idea grips the writer’s mind (or it is an assignment they’re obliged to follow through on!). But you can’t truly be a writer if you’re not committed to bringing the idea all the way through phase two. The document can’t be a file on your desktop forever. It has to come alive and find a readership.
When the average person thinks about writing, I suspect phase two is what they have in mind. But I hope it’s apparent that phase two must follow phase one. Long before you ever read something—or before what you read ends up in print—hours, experiences, research, thinking, and rethinking have happened. True writers must pass through phase two, but not all writers are equally energized by phase one and two equally. Some have endless imaginations. Or they’re diligent researchers. And some are simply drained by phase one such that they long to dive into phase two.
Phase three
The final phase is perhaps the most understudied of the three. This phase probably won’t sound like a phase at all, but it’s quite important. Let’s call phase three “reflection and response.” As your writing finds a home among readers, you have both a reaction and a responsibility. First, how do you feel about what you’ve done? Do you doubt your work? Does the relief outweigh the enjoyment, or does your passion to write more outweigh the short-term pleasure of being finished?
Additionally, how will you receive the response that comes? Are you prepared to field questions, defend your thesis, accept compliments graciously, or, most challenging of all, cope with the silence when no feedback comes? Do you stand by what you’ve written? When we drill down deep into phase three, we see the very real emotional and personal dimensions. The right balance of confidence and humility is crucial to navigating it.
Not all writers are prepared for phase three. Probably new writers, or those tackling difficult topics, are most susceptible to discouragement in this situation. Negative feedback, no feedback, or the regret of not having spent enough time in phase one conceiving the idea is enough to put someone off writing altogether.
A Meditation
Ideally the most virtuous writers understand and learn to embrace all three phases or moments in the journey that is writing. I suspect it comes more naturally to some than others. Certainly even now I’m keenly aware of which phase challenges me most, but if I intend to write well for a lifetime, I must be prepared to confront that inadequacy in me. But recognizing that most of the writers whose work I read have felt and still feel that way gives me hope that there’s room for all of us to grow, even as we enjoy the gift that is writing.
[1]James W. Sire, Habits of the Mind: Intellectual Life as a Christian Calling (Downers Grove, IL: IVP, 2000), 27–28. I am indebted to Matthew Bracey for drawing this excellent quotation to my attention some years ago.
July 3, 2020
Great article! Very inspiring to all of us would-be writers trying to grasp how to do it better.
July 7, 2020
Mike, thanks so much for reading! Glad you enjoyed it.