Why I Write
It’s always good to know why you do something.
I write to help people journey with Jesus better.
Why?
Because I enjoy team life and benefit from fellow journeyers.
Because a major part of my journey is the joy of assisting others to love God by living the life he’s planned for them.
Because if I can guide others to journey with Jesus better, we'll thrive, and God will be pleased.
Because God called me to write and speak. He gave raw gifts that I’m cultivating.
Because I don't want to waste the experiences I've had--family, friendships, education, ministry, and mistakes.
Because I value my relationship with Jesus so much that I must invite others to come along.
I'm passionate to serve others as a spiritual guide–unleashing them to be the hero of their own stories, be players in Jesus' story, and come alive.
I saw the value of a guide on a whitewater rafting trip in West Virginia.
His name was Neo. His personal life was messy, and he wasn’t the star guide. He sat in the back, drew little attention, and helped us maneuver ourselves down the river. Even when danger erupted, our guide made us our story's heroes.
About an hour into our trip, a whistle blew so loudly that all eight heads in our raft turned simultaneously. We saw two people thrashing in the raucous river. Neo stood up behind us and yelled, “Paddles in the water.” He sat down and shouted more sternly, “Now. To the right. To the right. Go. Go. Go!” We must have been filled with adrenaline because we moved quickly upstream against a powerful current.
Another raft in our group was closer and got a rope in the water before we did. To our surprise, the large man gasping for breath immediately started pulling himself toward the rescue raft without ever turning to reach the young girl screaming behind him.
“We need to get her before the rocks,” Neo said, focusing our next move. We pivoted and headed swiftly downstream, but we couldn’t reach her in time.
“Left. Left,” Neo redirected. “We’ve got to get below the passageway before she’s spit out. You can do it!”
Our two teenage girls, my wife, a younger couple, a wiry man, and I paddled like ocean lifeguards. It was our moment, and we felt it.
We watched the girl bob in the deep rapids. She had quit screaming, but her arms flailed as her body was thrown into the narrow passageway between giant, sharp rocks. She was slung left, then down, then up and to the right. “Paddle. Paddle. Paddle,” Neo said louder.
Our guide told me how to take over steering the raft as he prepared to dive. But then he calmly said, “Hold on.” He slowed our pace and turned us upstream, facing the exit to the rock formation. The girl had pulled her bleeding body onto a rock that she had slammed into. Another boat scrambled in from the side to get her, and we were the safety raft in case she slipped. She didn’t.
Later, Neo thanked me for being willing to take over the raft. He told me three people had died earlier in the year in that same treacherous passageway. “She was lucky.” And then he added, “You guys were great. YOU saved her.” And we did.
Neo had guided teams down that river and many others for decades. The backs of his hands were dark and leathery like his face. But his fingers were pearly white. The sun can’t reach fingers curled around a paddle. He was a trained and highly skilled rescue diver and an experienced guide.
As our guide:
He led us, but from behind, avoiding the spotlight.
He protected us and empowered us.
He taught us how to raft better and made the journey thrilling.
When we weren’t rallying to a rescue, we had fun.
He gave us skills and knowledge.
He inspired us and made us believe we could tackle more treacherous rivers.
Our guide was with us, but he didn’t take us down the river. He taught us to lead ourselves.
Neo modeled for me what a good guide does.
Guides aren’t perfect or even experts. They aren’t the main characters of the drama. They serve others by helping them overcome challenges and live the life they long for.
A spiritual journey guide is
a servant leader
who encourages
and equips people
to be the hero of their own story,
the story God is calling them into.
I want to be a spiritual journey guide. I write to guide people to journey with Jesus better.
I like the journey guide metaphor. I’m not a distant expert, instructing from a position of authority, sterility, or expertise. Is anyone ever an expert at understanding Scripture or loving and following Jesus?
But I’m in the fight.
I’m learning.
And I’m on the ride too.
I’m not a novice, however. I’ve been down the river a few times, and I’ve helped many others figure out Jesus and walk in his ways. I know how to research biblical issues and integrate evidence for practical knowledge. I’m learning to pray, enjoy Jesus’ presence, and be transformed.
While I wrestle with many mysteries—including theological conundrums, my sinful side, and how to overflow with faith and joy amid trouble—I continue to grow. Jesus still loves me. And I want to pass on to others what others passed on to me.
I’m in the boat and the river—on my journey and cheering people on theirs. I’m pointing out the beauty and goodness along the way, laughing with friends, and challenging others to live full bore for Jesus. I’m learning to love others and myself better. I’m a fellow journeyer, offering guidance and following our True Guide.
***
When we completed our trip down the river, Neo and the other guides gathered around, applauded us for saving that girl's life, and dreamed with us about upcoming adventures. They unlocked who we were, celebrated our victory, and took their comfortable place for photographs—behind us.
I write as a spiritual journey guide for anyone who wants to come along and come alive. I’m exploring and reporting on the question, “How can we journey with Jesus better?”