Why I Write

Sitting before a computer screen or white paper clean

I, an Image Bearer

an Echo of the Original

sense a rumbling

stirring

a yearning to be formed

expressed

discovered.

At first jumbled

confused

a few scattered letters

alphabet soup on the page

But gradually words take shape

substance

story

Beating in the deepest part of me

relentlessly breathing

until they are birthed

explored

imagined

And so I continue to write.

Me, an Image Bearer

an Echo of the Original

who when faced with His own empty page

Spoke

And everything changed

everywhere

in an age before there was a where

or a what

There was only a who

And when Who spoke

words spilled

They tumbled out

bouncing

jostling

leaping

diving

And everywhere the words went

they left in their wake

LIFE

Galaxy-life, mountain-life

waterfall-butterfly-freckles-and-mushroom-life

giraffe-life, gazelle-life

blue-turquoise, red-cherry, yellow-sunflower-life

Whatever the words imagined

they became.

So it is for all of us

Echo-ers

and Image Bearers

whether using clay or paint

shovel, mixing bowl or keyboard

scalpel or plow

pen, violin, or tape measure

The essence of the designer stirs in us

to create

dream

become

He will not be silent.

This is why I write.