I write because I’m right

A title bloated with arrogance, filled with an icky sort of pride, lacking in humbleness, and seething with self-righteousness, right? Yeah, I’m pretty full of myself, I suppose. I can piece together words in a coherent sentence and, with each properly (most of the time!) punctuated line after another, I’ve written an entire group of paragraphs that form each post in its finality. Click ‘publish’ and, presto, I’ve created a mini masterpiece that I want the whole world to see.

By nature, I’m an extrovert. With age, I’m morphing into an introvert that can flip the switch back when needed. With this introversion has come examination of self as related to intentions, motivations, and sin condition (past, present, and future). I unload all of this seemingly unnecessary information because I am here tonight, contemplating the reason I write, why what I write is worth the read, and why I’ve persisted in the shameless promotion of all that I write. Short end of the story, see post title again. Longer version up ahead.

I can tell you that I’ve been divorced twice (see Divorced? Me two), or that my token sin has been sexual licentiousness (see Our token sin), or that I’ve consistently doubted the validity of organized religion (see The church in question), or that I cuss like a sailor (see Cursing God). However, my sordid past, and present, experiences, while they are shared with an intention to induce a sort of humility on my part, are not the wrongs that make me right as I write. I’ve messed up, I’m messed up, but my mess is a tidy one. I can categorically place each willful act of disobedience in the “sin bin” and, just as neatly, find the rightful place for what I’m doing with this blog.

I’m telling you I know the wrong way. I’ve been headed down the dead end road, I’ve ventured into the Enemy’s territory, I’ve watched and witnessed the product of superficial spirituality, and as hard as it is to admit, I knew I was in the wrong camp with each and every step. I just didn’t care, or know, enough about the God I’d proclaim even during drunken conversation at social gatherings. What a witness I must’ve been! Even now, the truly self-righteous folks who are made aware of my failings in the paragraph above will secretly shun my qualifications as a witness of our risen Lord. My path wasn’t pure enough, my choices were’t wise enough, and my disregard for God during those sinful endeavors counts me out because I’m unable to say, “Look what Jesus did for my life! I’m a shining example of a person indwelt with the Holy Spirit, don’t you want to be like me?”

Herein lies the conundrum as I relentlessly persevere in my witness for Christ: I don’t want you to look at me as a reason to believe. I want to look to Him. I want you to look to Him. Not me. Not other professing Christians who’ll confuse the crap out of you as you try to reconcile the flesh of man with Jesus, God in flesh. We, all of us who give witness to the Word, aren’t the Way. We are the means, the conduit, that God chose to connect the unknowing eyes and ears by speaking and proclaiming Truth.

I’ve written over one hundred posts since I started this blog 14 months ago and, without counting, about 5% are about me. As I’ve tried to promote the blog through other established writers, I’ve been asked to add more into my writing that’s personal application. No can do. This post may bump me up to 6%, but I intentionally set the focus on God and the significance of His Word. Overwhelmingly, my posts are intended to conjure up a burning desire for readers to pursue knowing God through reading Scripture on a regular basis. That is a right reason to write.

If one reader can come away from my posts and be intrigued enough to start digging through their Bible in search of answers to whatever questions God has given them mind to, I’m doing what I’ve intended to do from the start; be that conduit. As my bio states, my Bible spent years collecting dust as I pursued other idols, but God lit a fire in me 5 years back and that Holy Book hasn’t had a speck of dust on it since. Even if that fire burns out tomorrow, the embers will still burn and my hopes would be that a spark would reignite it. A true treasure is found within those pages. An irreplaceable treasure when He kindles a passion for reading them, studying Him through them, finding His will among them, maturing in knowledge of Him, and coming to the realization that this little microcosm of a blog post title is, in reality, a mere reflection of what God would say about the Bible. I write because He’s right. And as long as I’m able to write about the necessity of getting into Scripture to find what He deems as right, I shall remain right as I write. Right?



One thought on “I write because I’m right

  1. Greetings Anonymous…reading and adhering to biblical principles has vastly improved my relationship with the God of the Bible I worship. My goal, as this piece states, is to encourage readers, believers or seekers, to look for Him in their Bibles, regardless of whether circumstances in their life are pleasant or painful. I don’t consider much as to whether this methodology has improved my family life, but since you asked: yes, it has, but I wouldn’t cease if it hadn’t.


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