Flourishing in Every Way

I’ve always wanted to start a blog, and it only took me nine years to finally say yes to it. It’s now been about a month since I started writing consistently, and to my surprise, I discovered an unexpected win—I didn’t realize how much more connected I would feel to my husband through it.

A Shared Identity

Since becoming a blogger, I’ve realized that I am a writer. My husband is a pastor, and he is also a writer (through sermon preparations). We now connect on a writing level. Most people see pastors solely as public speakers and forget that pastors are actually writers too.

Now that I am in the world of writing, we talk about our writing styles, our voices, and our content ideas. My husband’s style is naturally more people-focused. He inspires and rallies groups of people and generally has an encouraging tone with an exhorting spirit. My voice is more concrete and clear, usually marinated in reflective warmth, and is overall grounded and real. Two very different voices, but charming in their own ways and fulfilling different purposes.

Over the past month, I’ve learned two characteristics about writing that has helped me understand my pastor husband better.

Writing’s Currency Is Time

You can never put enough time into writing. It’s like a bottomless pit for time. There’s always a better way to express something, a better example to use, or a better story to share. You can reread it over and over again, and still find yourself changing something. A single word choice can distract or support. The way you phrase something can completely change how it’s received.

I used to have a bad habit of continuously editing already published posts. It’s like saying my husband, who preaches on a Sunday, could rewind time and preach the same sermon again with updated edits (blasphemy!).

Knowing how long writing takes has made me more understanding when extra time is requested for sermon prep (because more time on the sermon means less time with the family). I’ve come to understand that writing is a long, drawn-out process. Sometimes, you simply need more time. And not even more time to write—just time to be.

My husband calls it “unstructured free time”—a space where your thoughts flow freely, allowing creativity and imagination to spark inspiration. It’s usually the pregame to the game of writing.

The Discouragement of Writing

Sometimes, I have what feels like a brilliant blog idea, but when it reaches paper, it doesn’t turn out the way I imagined. What I’ve thought through in my head doesn’t always translate well on paper, and it takes multiple refinements to get there. The process can take days, and at times, it feels discouraging enough to make you want to scratch the entire post (ironically, this post was that post—I wanted to scratch it).

But after persistently refining, reorganizing, and rewriting, you begin to feel the light at the end of the tunnel. You suddenly realize, yes—this is what I was trying to say. Your writing begins to glow.

My husband would often express discouragement too—writer’s block, a lack of clarity, not enough illustrations, or points that didn’t feel fully developed. Through blogging, I’ve come to understand those discouragements and doubts much more deeply. I feel them too (in my own way).

When I find myself in the abyss of discouragement, I’ve learned to close my laptop, walk away for the day, and return tomorrow to try again. I encourage him to do the same.  

A Simple Win For Our Marriage

We both understand the writing process—the struggles, the discouragements, and the emotions that come with it. This shared identity as writers has brought us closer together and allowed us to deeply appreciate each other’s work. Every blog post published and every sermon preached feels like a win to us, and we celebrate those wins together.

Great job. 수고했어요. *High-five.

Who knew blogging would help us feel more connected? Who knew it would inject such simple joys into our marriage?

For those of you who have ever considered blogging but never got started, you might just discover a few unexpected wins of your own, and wonder to yourself—why didn’t I start sooner?