Artwork courtesy of Faith and Culture Writer’s Conference
My heart is full. Again. Last year I blogged about my experience at the 2013 Faith and Culture Writer’s Conference. It was out of that weekend that I felt liberated to admit to myself and declare to the world that I am a writer.
Not a wannabe. Not a fraud. But a writer. And the world needs my voice.
This year, at the 2014 conference, I had a similar epiphany which built upon last year’s encouragement.
I’m being challenged to remove the veneer from my heart which masks the vulnerability necessary to communicate clearly to my readers.
I like feeling safe. Liked. Appreciated. Loved. Am I willing to risk all of that to be real?
Vulnerability is a proportionate expression of strength of character, the ability to grow comfortable in my own skin, knowing that God loves me even when people may abandon me.
Saturday morning I tweeted out: “I’m a peasant, not a prince. I’m not the hero in my own story, but the hero loves me still, despite my sin-stained hands touching his scars.”
I followed it up with: “Need #writing inspiration? Find that back alleyway in your memory where it hurts. Step in. Write.”
So as I continue to engage the margins as a missionary to my city and neighborhood, don’t expect a lot of fanciful, sanitized fluff. Yes, I will maintain editorial control of what I share. It’s my journey and story, after all. But I intend to press into the hard places. I intend to be real.
In my next post I will share specific points of learning at the conference. And then in a third post I will offer what I would have shared had I been one of the keynote speakers at Faith and Culture Writer’s Conference 2014.
What about you? How was your experience?