Courtney Ellis

Last week I received the first round of edits on my book. It can be hard to receive constructive criticism – I think all writers have a secret hope that their first drafts will be flawless, though that is literally never the case.

Yet as I read my editor’s (gracious, kind, thoughtful, funny) comments, I watched my solitary practice of writing begin to take a more beautiful form because of the wise eye of another.

The few places she challenged me were areas I needed a challenge. Areas where I’d assumed things about other believers, where I’d unthinkingly made light of deep things, where I’d forgotten to mention a broader spectrum of orthodox faith.

My editor? She’s making me a better Christian, too.

I’m at the Festival of Faith and Writing in Grand Rapids today, thrilling to the sound of authors’ voices I’ve only encountered before in text. The college where the conference is held is packed full of thick-rimmed glasses and cardigans and introverts as far as the eye can see. The rooms are filled with editors and writers and students, preachers and professors and publishers.

I’ve never been to a writing conference before. Writing is something I do alone late at night, early in the morning, while the kids nap, in a break before evening meetings at church.

Yet I’ve already taken pages of notes, started half a dozen blog posts, and felt my soul stretch. Turns out that writing, like almost anything else, is strengthened in community.

We’re preaching through Genesis at church this spring, and these verses from Genesis 1 strike me each and every time:

²⁶ Then God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness…”