My Writing Is Not That Good

Did God ever use you? I was. And it was overwhelming.

I went to my friend Regi’s funeral yesterday. So many people came up to me and said, “Thank you for writing that tribute to Regi. It was really well done. I passed it on to so many people. And my friends thought it was good too.”

The truth is, I didn’t write it. Yes. I typed it. But I didn’t write it. This was the work of the Holy Spirit of God. I know this is true because I am not that good. I want to be, but I’m just not.

Here’s what happened.

I got up on that Saturday morning, and while headed to the bathroom, I ran into Kathy. She grabbed me by my shoulders with tears in her eyes and said, “Regi died last night.” We hugged. I said nothing.

I grabbed my phone and went to my home office. I picked it up and wrote, “Into your hands, I place his spirit.”

And then I kept writing, pecking away with my thumbs on my phone. And I just kept going and going. The world was completely blocked out.

Time stood still.

What I was writing was right from the heart. It also hit the blank page in the right order. It was just the correct story. Those stories captured my relationship with Regi. But not just my relationship but all those close to him.

I looked up and realized over an hour had passed—then another story, then another, and then another.

At some point, I decided to read what I had written. My thumbs were getting tired. I was also tired of looking at the little screen. I picked up my computer and read what I had typed on my phone.

It flowed. Amazingly, this writing I didn’t hate or just feel blah about. (Common writer’s reaction, I’ve been told.)

But no, this captured my heart.

A few days earlier, I knew I needed to write something about Regi after he died. When I thought about what I might say, nothing came to mind. Really. Nothing. I panicked a bit. I knew I needed to write something. I wanted to write something. But nothing of impact came to my mind. Sentences like, “He was a really good guy and good friend.”


As I read what I’d written on my phone, I fixed a couple of typos. I changed a couple of words and sentences to make it simpler. And then the close came to me. I wrote what came to mind. I was just typing again. They were well-written words but not my words. Weird.

I finished.

I gave the article one last read. Then I sent it to my editor. Finally, I thanked God for what He had me type.

I’ve experienced this kind of writing only two other times over the last four years. It’s my best writing because it is not my writing. This writing happens when I set myself aside and allow God to reach deep inside and pull it out. It’s there, but I have no idea how to get it. But He does.

Thanks for the high compliments over the last couple of weeks.

Thanks for your friendship and encouragement.

Thanks for taking the time to read what I write.

And thanks for passing it on to your family and friends.

This article taught me something.

I learned when I come to my end and release my whole self to God, He does great work. Of course He does. First, He shows me how good I can be. Second, and the amazing part, He uses what I write to change people’s lives by bringing them closer to Him.

And all I did was type.

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