Written Grace

Linking up with my friend Kirsten today and talking about what being a writer means to me.  There’s some bravery over here folks so stop on by and say hello!

I need to get used to this.  Calling myself a writer. I will often still cover my mouth and mutter unintelligibly when I say “I’m a writer,” but it’s getting better and the more I write the more my hand moves away from my mouth.

I give birth to words.  I give birth to words that I wrestle with in my heart and that float around in my brain.  Some days the words come and flow with easy grace as my hands fly across the keys.  There are other days when I’m pulling out my hair trying to get what’s in my brain to flash across my computer screen.

I started writing, seriously writing, when I was in Grade 4. My family was going through a tumultuous time and words became a safe haven.  I remember the title of my first poem, Cages, a dark and sombre verse about my anger and feeling trapped.  I never once suspected that my teachers would recognize it as art and submit it to the Fine Arts Festival and that it would place.   After that I filled note books, old school books, scraps of paper with poetry.

The older I got the more my writing moved from cryptic poetry to journal entries.  Blank pages lay open, just like my heart, where I would bleed blue or black ink on every line.   My pen pressed hard on the page as little girl anger bubbled up and tumbled out.  Anger about my situation, anger about things that little girls shouldn’t have to be angry about, I left it all in between the lines.

When I started high school I had a teacher, a beautiful teacher, who saw through the flash of anger in my eyes as she began to draw out of me what I didn’t even know I possessed.  Because I attended a private school she was part of my life from Grade 9 to Grade 11.  To this day I don’t think she knows how much of her I still carry with me every time I sit down to write. I can still see her distinct red inked penmanship, like a beacon on a dark night, drawing me closer to the best parts of myself and the gift of my writing.

I took quite a break from writing after high school.  Marriage and small children make it difficult to carve out time or space. I would pick up a pen and journal through those times with the best of intentions and the end result was a dozen or so half filled journals because a dirty diaper, a minor catastrophe and keeping a schedule became the priorities that filled my days.

As the journals sat on my shelf collecting the dust of life my heart and gift atrophied and wilted. I just didn’t have it in me anymore.

I think, looking back, that God knew.  He knew that I would come back to my love of words.  I think He knew because I feel like He held my gift in trust, cared for by Him, until I was ready to receive it back, until I was ready to find my path through words once again.

I started blogging almost a year ago.  And the reasons why I write are so different now.  Before I used to write as a means of holding onto anger, a place where I could keep a record of the wrongs done to me.  But now I write because I’ve found a gateway to grace through words.

Words that have bolstered a wavering faith, words that have unlocked dreams and words that have told a story – my story.

My story is woven with heart ache, and pain. My story has action and adventure and even a little romance.  And when I look at all of the pieces of my story on their own, I see tattered remnants of myself, scraps of moments.

But when I see how God, has pierced the salvages of those moments with the needle of His grace, I see a tapestry.  I see a beautiful piece of art that is woven together with the common thread of Christ’s love and the gift of the cross, grace that covers all. 














  1. Beautiful.

    When do you know you’re a writer? When you write and the words that are written turn out to be “words that bolster a wavering faith.” Amen.

    Thanks for sharing.

  2. Lovely, Tonya! So neat to hear your writing story. I’ve been loving your words and am glad we connected!

  3. I’m so glad that you found your way back to your love of words. You are a great writer! Thanks for joining the Blog Hop today! I’ve enjoyed reading all these posts. Great job, girl!

  4. Ah, another journal keeper! I often wonder what I should do with all of those words in all of those journals. I’ve read back through some of them–the ones that contain the most miracles (the cancer journal), but I’m a little afraid to see who I was five, ten, fifteen, twenty or even thirty years ago! What do you do with your old journals?

    • Oh some of them are on my bookshelf and others are buried in boxes… sadly some of them have gone missing… I love going back and reading some of my old entries…

  5. Hi Tonya,

    I love your writing style, straight from your heart! Your words give voice to my own spirit, some pieces still locked up inside…

    You write because you found “a gateway to grace” … aahh!!! Yes!!!

    Pure loveliness here… pure beauty… pure joy!!!

    • Susan? Friend? Thank you so much for your lovely words here… Praying for you today…I took a quick peek at your space and can’t wait to read your words…

  6. Amen, Tanya! I love especially this line: “But now I write because I’ve found a gateway to grace through words.” And I’m so glad you have and I’m so glad you do!

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