Life is full of curious and unexpected things. Even now, whenever I am asked to write, I still feel intimidated, often ending with unfinished drafts. So writing an essay titled “To Write Well” feels almost presumptuous—especially before those who write professionally.

Yet I have often been moved by simple, honest pieces written by ordinary people—letters in a newspaper, articles in a church bulletin, or essays in a small magazine. Such writing reminds me that good writing does not belong only to trained experts. Just as a stone polished by years of touch has its beauty, so does a rough natural stone lying on a mountainside. Its value depends on the one who beholds it.

For the past three years, I have written weekly letters for a Christian radio program, as well as essays for our church bulletin and Lenten devotional. Each time I sit before the computer, I cannot help but respect poets, novelists, and essayists who devote their lives to writing. Behind every beautiful, moving piece lies the writer’s long labor and perseverance. Good writing never appears effortlessly.

And yet, I am grateful that God still uses my unpolished, amateur writing in His own way. That thought gives me courage to continue.

1. Do not miss the small moments of daily inspiration

I never set out to become a writer. My first attempt came from something very small. When my eldest daughter was three, she lost her first baby tooth. Though it was an ordinary event, I was overwhelmed by the mystery of life. Her tiny white tooth looked like a jewel in my palm, and I even placed it in a jewelry box to keep it safe. (I have no idea where it is now!)

Afraid to lose the feeling, I wrote about it and sent it to a women’s magazine, which published it. Seeing my words in print felt strangely bright. My husband read it and said, “You have a gift—keep writing!” But at the time, I had no desire to pursue writing further.

Years later, after immigrating, I met a remarkable woman—a Korean evangelist living here alone, working hard to build a new life. Her husband, once considered one of Korea’s brightest intellectuals, had been tortured during the political oppression of the late 1970s and left nearly paralyzed. Her faith, strength, and vision moved me deeply. For the first time, I tried writing a short story—simply following my emotion, without technique or structure. I submitted it to a newspaper’s New Year Literary Contest under the title “The Sunny Side of Love.” To my shock, it won a prize.

Only then did I realize: Even someone like me can write a story. My husband’s old words—“You have a gift”—returned to me.

The next year, I wrote a children’s story inspired by my kids, and that too won a prize. After receiving the second award, I felt a new responsibility: Writing should not be done carelessly.

I learned that when inspiration comes, capturing it in writing preserves the moment—and allows others to feel it too.

2. I write for myself

After winning those contests, I prayed: “Lord, though I am lacking, let me use this small talent for Your glory.” But when I tried to write for God or for others, I soon reached a limit. The words stopped.

Later, when daily life moved me again, I wrote short essays. And I realized: Writing is not primarily for others or even for God—it is God’s gift to help me grow.

A child who writes a diary only to impress a teacher or parent fills it with pretty phrases, but hides their true self. So it is with adults.

At our church, members write testimonies and reflections for our seasonal devotional booklets. These simple, honest writings—born from real life—carry deep power. No one compares them or judges them. Each is precious.

But some people refuse to write, saying, “I can’t. I have no talent.” Often, this is because they are thinking of how others will judge their writing. In doing so, they lose the chance to bless others—and themselves.

These days, I try to write from my own life as a pastor’s wife: the joys, burdens, inner battles, victories, and sins that cling to me. Writing forces me to look at my weakness, refine my thoughts, and grow. Even without labeling my writing “for God’s glory,” I see His hand shaping me through it.

3. Read good books

When we immigrated sixteen years ago, most of our luggage was my husband’s books. As a young wife, I often complained, “Please stop buying books!” But once I began writing, I discovered the treasure of reading. Books are not a luxury—they are nourishment.

Without reading, our thinking becomes narrow and limited. With good books, our insight deepens, our soul grows richer, and our language becomes more expressive.

Immigrants especially need books. Living between two cultures, we slowly lose both English and Korean vocabulary, and even our sense of identity. Reading restores us.

Recently, reading novels about the Korean War helped me understand its pain anew and pray more earnestly for the Korean peninsula. I even wept with my children as we talked about our homeland.

Good books open worlds we have never seen, teach us to understand and love, challenge us, and sharpen our thinking. And above all books, Scripture gives direction, meaning, purpose, and clarity. A strong faith grounded in the Word is a great treasure for writing.

4. Keep good writing companions close

When I first submitted my stories, I never asked anyone to read them. I simply wrote and sent them. I later regretted this. Once writing is published, it is hard to revise. A well‑polished piece shines brighter and lasts longer.

At first, I was embarrassed to show my writing to anyone. My husband would find my drafts and offer sharp critiques—cutting parts I liked, pointing out lazy expressions or clichés. It hurt my pride. But over time, I became grateful.

Sharing your writing with trusted readers helps you grow.

After that, I began submitting regularly to newspapers and magazines. Editors will fix spacing and grammar; what matters is your thought, your experience, your voice. Your writing may comfort, encourage, challenge, or give meaning to someone you will never meet.

Conclusion

These four things— noticing daily inspiration, writing for oneself, reading widely, and keeping good writing companions— are what I have learned about writing well.

Perhaps time will reveal more. But one thing I pray for is this: that my writing never becomes pollution of thought or spirit.

Every person has the ability to write well, because God has given each of us a unique life. And the greatest Author has already said, “I can do all things through Him who gives me strength.”

So keep a pen and notebook close.
Write whenever inspiration comes.
You may already be becoming a quiet, remarkable writer in this barren world.

— Yoon Wan-Hee, October 24, 1996