When the Whole World Seems Wrong, Write
Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash
I woke this morning to the thermometer at 0 degrees, two men threatening to destroy the world with buttons on their desks, news of a friend’s father near death, and the laments of people who feel unheard and demeaned waiting to be addressed in my in box. It’s a heavy start to to 2018.
I can’t make it warmer, and I can’t get rid of the nuclear arsenal, much as I’ve tried. I can’t heal my friend’s father, and I can’t end sexism, racism and homophobia, but I’ll keep trying. What I can do though is answer the calling that lifts my life; I can write.
Yesterday, my friend Tom and I were talking about how much we want to write, how much we simply need to (and want to) give our best energy to our words, how we know this is what we are asked to do in this world, and how our best work of justice and healing and activism comes through our writing. (It’s good to have a friend to remind you of that truth.)
So friends, here in this new year that already seems so hard and broken, may you be encouraged that while we need to speak truth and seek justice, while we need to help our neighbors and listen to those who are hurting, our primary work in this world is to write the truth of what we see – be that the hope of joy in a novel about a parakeet and her person or in a serious work of nonfiction about the school to prison pipeline, be that the wild escape of a fantasy epic or the beautiful illustrations of a picture book. Our work is to write about the world and for the world. We have to trust that this work is about healing and justice and, most of all, hope.
Write, beautiful people. Write. We need you to do your part of healing us all, one word at a time.
Our annual Writers’ Retreat at God’s Whisper Farm is coming up this June, and we are seeking workshop proposals from writers, editors, readers, and marketers who have something to share with a diverse group of writers. If you’re interested in submitting, please visit this page and send in a proposal. Thanks.