April 2026
Confession: I almost didn’t write a blog this month.
And it’s not like that would have been a huge travesty. People do not wait with bated breath for my next installment.
Yet, I have committed to regular writing practices which, amongst other things, includes writing a monthly blog. So not posting felt like not following through with my (self-ascribed) commitment.
But I simply couldn’t figure out a source of inspiration or an exact topic. So, in the end, the lack of direction or motivation became my topic.
Maybe I am just trying to make myself feel better, but feeling hesitant to start something or to stay the course because we don’t have the feelings we “ought” to feel or the vision we “ought” to embrace is common.
I see it a lot with my students. I met with one recently who said he didn’t submit his essay because he just couldn’t find the motivation to write it. Sometimes it’s senioritis, but apathy can hit at any point during students’ four to five years of study. Even those who are too committed not to complete their homework sometimes tell me they fear they are doing something wrong because they don’t feel passionate about their essay topic; they don’t feel a personal connection.
It’s tempting to romanticize the notion of inspiration, as if we are only qualified to cook dinner if we plan to try a fancy new recipe or we should only share with our small group if we have a handout and slideshow.
In Little Women, Jo March’s sisters ask her before she goes on one of her writing binges, “Jo – does genius burn?”
Illustration from “Little Women,” 1870. Library of Congress.
They know her well enough to recognize that when the creative juices begin flowing, Jo can do nothing but bow to the desire to grab hold of her vision and bring it to fruition, not coming down from the attic until the story is written.
And while there is nothing more satisfying than being captivated by a clear concept of what we want to execute and then following it out, almost as if we are taken over by the spirit of inspiration, this is not typical for most of us most of the time.
Usually, when my students share inhibitions that they have not been visited with Muse-like inspiration for their topic, I tell them that while brainwaves and passion are great, it’s also ok to sit down and answer the prompt even when they don’t feel inspired. They can be faithful to the process by showing up, regardless of their feelings.
So, this month is me practicing what I preach: showing up even though I have no epiphanies. And though it’s anybody’s guess how this piece will turn out, in life, showing up despite the hang ups and the ample arguments as to why we shouldn’t does indeed reap its own reward. It’s how we keep our job or keep the kids alive. It’s how we maintain routines and muscle mass and cleanliness.
I recently went to watch Sight and Sound’s production of David. (For any non-locals – it’s an excellent Broadway level production produced by a Christian theater company.) The play covered a large amount of David’s life, including the monumental moments like fighting Goliath or being coronated as king. But it also highlighted multiple times where David simply sat in nature, playing his harp and singing praises to God.
I found those scenes most impactful because, likely, David did not have an agenda. He didn’t set out to compose a great psalm or discover the secret chord. He simply followed his course of habit: embracing something he loved (creating music for the Lord) and doing so even during times that may have felt uninspired. While the backdrop for many scenes of the play was beautiful, depicting lush waterfalls and green hillsides, this was likely not the case for the real David.
When I Googled “Countryside near Bethlehem in Israel,” many of the pictures showed ample brown and grey. We love the pastoral paintings of shepherds lounging amidst fertile flora and fauna. They hang in our churches and museums and maybe even our homes.
But my hunch is that many shepherds had to rough it quite a bit more than these images suggest.
I find comfort in considering that David created psalms that were a pleasing aroma to God in desolate places, in uninspired places, during times where genius did not burn.
It can be easy to adopt an “all or nothing” mentality in which we “go big or go home.” We may want to do it perfectly or not at all. This very rationale is why I almost didn’t write this blog post. Yet perhaps this is too dramatic; in many areas of life, not showing up really isn’t an option. We are responsible people who chalk up doing unenjoyable things to being a large part of adulting. So instead, we discount the significance of our contributions.
It’s only a well-thrown birthday party if it has a theme and extensive guest list.
It’s only a good essay if I felt a personal conviction to get involved in the topic I wrote about.
I am only an active member of my congregation if I serve in highly visible ways.
I am only a good worker if I constantly go beyond my job description.
I am only a true homemaker if I enjoy everything involved in home-life.
There are plenty of ways to let our inhibitions and our averageness get the better of us. And yet, we can choose to commit to the process anyway. We can dwell faithfully with what we have been entrusted, despite how measly our abilities or motivation may seem.
“Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much” (Luke 16:10a)
Of course, David was entrusted with a lot. Despite his mistakes, Scripture references Jesus as being from the Line of David, and Jesus’ birthplace is known as the City of David. His story shows us that no task was too mundane during his shepherding days. I would imagine those shepherding days were monotonous. Though he had adventures sprinkled in like saving his flock from a bear and a lion, it may have made the quiet days even more uninspiring.
As I warned you, this was never going to be my best blog. I don’t have a perfect way to wrap it up, which quite frankly, I kind of hate. But I am grateful that my ability or grand vision is never the point. He takes our meagerness and multiplies it into something significant.
“Now he who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will also supply and increase your store of seed and will enlarge the harvest of your righteousness” (2 Corinthians 9:10)