I feel unprepared to write tonight. Ordinarily this would cause me great distress, but one of the virtues of writing something for people to read everyday is the reality that I almost always feel unprepared to write—until I start. Then, when my fingers warm up and find their rhythm, I find that I often have something coherent to say.
Tonight, I had no shortage of ideas for things to write about. From the wonderful worship service I attended in the morning, to the scenes I wrote for my novel in the afternoon, to the insights gleaned from journaling tonight, I have generated a half a dozen ideas of topics to wrestle with and reflect upon.
But I can’t publish writing on any of those topics right now.
Because I’m not ready.
Each of my ideas require that I invest something into them before I begin to write something worth publishing. Some asked for research, some for reflection, some for time to percolate.
It sometimes takes a lot of effort to tell the truth.
It sometimes takes a lot of risking to tell the truth.
It sometimes takes some investigation to tell the truth.
And, so, I find myself with a half-dozen, half-baked ideas, none of which are ready to see the light of the public glare.
And yet, I am determined to offer something of value tonight.
So, let what I offer be this: give yourself time to tell your truth. Give yourself space. Give yourself whatever you need.
Because your truth is worth it.
And your truth is worth telling well.