My daughter wrote in her journal tonight. The idea she was chasing is that when I write I express the image of God.
It made me think. What does it mean when “Word” is used to express a name for God. Is writing part of that expression of the very reality of being made in His image?
When I began to write, I would sometimes say that I was writing because it was the only thing on my list of “things I will never do” that I had not done. Here is the list: foster care, adoption, homebirth, women’s groups, writing. (If you know me at all, you are probably laughing about now). 🙄
So on the light of that list, and the humor of God, sometimes I joked that I started to write because it was inevitable. But I think that this reflection calls to me in a tender way; in simplicity and truth.
There are words inside of me that long for expression. Perhaps that is part of how I am made, to express an Image. When I write, I am reflecting something bigger.
And so, I write.