Week by week, the list of drafts in my blog grows longer, yet none of them seem ready for posting. It’s a peculiar feeling—having so much to express, yet finding myself unable to articulate anything that feels complete or worth sharing. So, it seemed like a good idea to maybe write a blog about that. Such a post could risk being incomplete. Who knows? Maybe this is the antidote to my writer’s block.

One of the hardest parts of writing has been the writing itself—the actual act of sitting down in front of my laptop and typing. We all have something to say, something to express, a story that needs to be told. That’s the part that motivates us, but we often set such high standards for ourselves that it becomes more about how the message will be received than about the message itself. This has often been the hindrance that keeps me from getting past the first line, why a long list of lonely titles are queued up in my drafts.

But what is often forgotten, and what I remind myself even as I type this, is that the only standard that truly matters is to give what you have. I became the preaching pastor of my church at the age of 25, nearly 10 years ago. The reason I persevered through those early years wasn’t because of an inflated ego or an exalted view of my knowledge and abilities, but because of a genuine desire to give what little I had. I was not afraid to admit when I was wrong or when I didn’t know something. I knew that the instruction of Scripture was clear.

If I was faithful in speaking and writing about the little that I knew, I would also be faithful with the more that God would give me. I realized that I wouldn’t suddenly become a capable author or preacher once I had a Masters in Divinity if I wasn’t willing to start with what I had. My silence in the little things would lead to silence in the greater things. If you say nothing when it matters least, you’re likely to say nothing when it matters most.

So, I suppose this blog post serves as a reminder to myself as much as to anyone else: the true treasure lies in the heart of the message, not in the eloquence of its delivery. While eloquence has its value, it should never overshadow the importance of the message itself.

I suppose I must plough on then. We, I, must remember that the essence of our message is far more valuable than the polish of its delivery. It’s tempting to chase after perfection, but true impact comes from sharing our thoughts and truths with honesty and conviction. Whether through a simple blog post or a profound sermon, the importance lies in our willingness to speak up, even when we feel inadequate.