The Only Motive That Doesn't Come Up Short

I've been blogging for three and a half years. I've been a blog hopping ghost reader, or something like that, for the last couple years, and reading and occasionally commenting more often since I graduated college.

And lately I've been grappling with my purpose in writing this blog.

Deep-down I know to some extent I've idolized the "big girl" bloggers with their beautiful words and loyal readers, and I've wished people would read my blog and tweet my phrases and write comments like I needed to read this today. I think a few more readers would make me feel more important, that I belonged, but who am I fooling? The truth is, deep-down I know I'm selfish. And as a result, I've started writing for the wrong reasons. I haven't written anything I wouldn't have and it's been from my heart, but in retrospect, I know there have probably been times I've said what sounds good just in the chance someone would read the words and maybe revisit. I've been more concerned with craving an audience than being authentic.

But I want, instead, to have an audience of One.

I want to be honest and real in what I write, not to attract readers but to attest to God's goodness and grace toward me as I stumble after Him. Like life, what I write isn't always overtly religious, but I want it all, words and life, to be always overtly Christ-centered. Because even in the little things, in what I'm learning about life, practically as well as spiritually, and in the everyday moments that make up my days, and in writing it down, it's always about Christ {Col. 3:11}. And if writing it reminds me of His greatness and Truth and my dependance on Him, I want to write . . . even if nobody reads this blog ever again.

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