Letters To My Children

 

I follow a few writers’ blogs. And I sometimes buy books on writing even though they seem to say a lot of the same things.

Whether you’re a teacher, a pastor, a speaker, a baker, a singer, an artist, or a writer, most books suggest:

Do your craft often.

Understand it well.

Build a platform, a place where people can buy or read or listen to the message you’re relaying.

Take a risk.

Stretch yourself.

Understand social media. Jump in.

And somewhere sandwiched between it all is:

Say something dangerous.

Something bound to get you noticed. Do something bold that sets you apart from the crowd. Wear polka dots in a sea of beige.

Do what it takes to stand out.

But can I tell you something, a little piece of truth?

You are clearly seen. You aren’t invisible.

We all have an audience.

They will one day live with you. They’ll cut grass across the street. They’ll know your name. They’ll shop at your grocery store. They’ll ask how you’re doing. They’ll let you borrow a bowl of sugar.

Our words may zip through texts and emails, Facebook and twitter faster than ever before. It may reach those we’ve never even met. But strangers can’t be our primary audience.

We can exhaust our energy persuading those we don’t know to listen, notice, love us or we can actively pursue the audience Christ has hand selected for our lives.

Our families. Our friends. Our relationships. Our influences.

Nurture those.

Care for those.

Reach their hearts first.

This is the platform that must be sturdiest, strongest of all.