I’m going to ramble a bit here, so bear with me. I promise, even if the words aren’t edited and spit-polished, they’re good.
I’m a huge self-editor. I’m sure part of it is because of what I do for a living; finding words that will move someone toward action is something I greatly enjoy. But that internal editor chases down other words too. Conversations are replayed in my mind with detailed color commentary. Instagram captions are scrutinized. Even personal journal entries can fall victim to critique. In a culture that shouts, “Free speech!” a little self-editing isn’t a bad thing, honestly. Our words are to be well-seasoned to offer grace to the moments. I rather think of them as salt and rosemary sprinkled on beautifully baked bread.
Oh, I do love bread.
But as I walk the road on this little blue ball, I’m learning that the most impactful editing isn’t in the words that land on the paper, but in the heart of the soul before the words are formed. The most important editing in my life isn’t found in the stories I write, but in the way I view God, others, and myself—for that editing changes everything. It changes the way I read, it changes the way I view this world, it changes the way I see things like love and mercy and life. And it changes the way the words are formed. Life is breathed into them. I pray that you and I are open to be edited by the God who has designed us carefully and knows fully the tender divinity that longs to fully come to live within us.
Today, I’m sharing the story of a woman who used her words. You likely know about her, because she’s the topic of a whole lot of sermons. The Samaritan woman just might be one of my favorite folks in scripture now. But my soul had to be edited to see her soul in a different way. I’m celebrating her. I’d love for you to take a couple of minutes and read my words about her words.