When Holy Spirit Tells the Story

I didn’t make this story up.

Not really.

There were moments—whole scenes—that came faster than I could type, and I knew this wasn’t my imagination. The buzzing feeling, the revelation leading into the unexpected—I wasn’t creating; I was receiving.

It wasn't something I could push along. I tried, and then had to erase my own writing to follow the flow of Holy Spirit. I argued about some areas, wondering if that was really where I was supposed to go. But over and over, I was shown the way.

Images would form. Scriptures would speak directly to the situations I was struggling with. Someone would say something, not knowing they were speaking about my character—or my issue. The story never left me, no matter where I was or what I was doing. (This is still ongoing with Book Two.)

Characters were formed, their secrets discovered—their hurts, their strengths. Backstories emerged. I spent hours just thinking through transitions, reactions, the intricacies of relationships. Not everyone was who I thought they would be, and it was exciting discovering this along the way. But I had to make sure I was thorough in catching all the changes, going over and over their conversations and situations.

I created a Google Doc just for pictures—pictures of the characters, Kenna’s compass, the circular city—so I knew the logistics of how things looked and would work. I researched how to ford a river and thought about the feelings I had when frozen on a bridge, unable to cross because of my fear of heights.

Let’s not forget the hours and hours of pouring over the rules of dialogue and correct quotation marks, showing not telling, POV choice, and the ever-frustrating cover formatting. How not to repeat words. Not always start a sentence with “I.” And avoid overusing adverbs—(remembering what an adverb is!).

I can’t count how many times I thought I had things down, and then Holy Spirit guided me to a better way. I made so many mistakes as a newbie writer—things a reader never notices until they're broken. The actual story was written in two months, but the editing took a year.

This was the most frustrating and rewarding part of the whole process.

But God.

There are times when you just know that God is providing. I thought I was doing a good job, but the anointing on this story put a fear in me to do better. To be trusted with something God felt was worthwhile to tell—that is sacred. Not to be taken lightly. So I took longer than I planned, going over and over it until I felt He said, “Enough.”

The layers of my writing are the layers I encounter daily in life. Living with the fire of God inside you changes your perspective on everything. Nothing seems impossible—everything is a story. While the characters on a page are fiction, what they feel and do is not. The veil between what is seen and unseen is lifted, and reality is clearer.

The voice of God speaks in many ways. Those with ears to hear will find the mysteries hidden in symbols, parables, and cryptic words. He wants us to search and know. He’s looking for vessels to reveal His stories.

So I keep writing.

I keep listening.

Because the Flame is still speaking.