A year ago, I launched this Substack. And for a year, I have posted weekly, a few times more than weekly.

I knew when I finished my DMin that I wanted to keep exercising this muscle. I have always enjoyed writing. In fact, I entered college as a creative writing major and had a few small successes in short story form. However, by the time I entered pastoral ministry, I set that all aside. For years, I wrote only sermons. Then graduate school and CPE gave me new opportunities to write. Yet outside the prompts and assessments required in that time, I never sought to write more.

Then, after another several-year hiatus, I launched into my Doctorate program at Western Seminary. With it came a fear I hadn’t experienced before. I strained to write anything. It was a real challenge. The first few assignments didn’t ask much: 2,500 words or 3,500 words. However, it didn’t matter. I struggled.

I’d write and rewrite and rewrite the same paragraph over and over again. Then I’d check the word count and then double-check it again. Each time, hoping that by some miracle I could be done.

My advisors told me to ‘take advantage’ of the research papers. They said wise students use these essays to write sections and chapters of their dissertation. By the time one starts their dissertation, they could have 40-50 pages stockpiled.

This somehow never worked for me. Only once did the coursework allow me to engage with my dissertation topic. So with each paper, the thought of ever being able to complete my dissertation drifted further and further away.

The time finally came when I was officially released to start writing on my dissertation. And the strangest thing happened. Instead of stalling out, as I feared, I couldn’t stop writing. Except not just the dissertation. Anything. Everything.

Strange topics I never even contemplated before, like the theology of providence in Frank Herbert’s Dune and its intersection with the Exodus narrative, reviews of movies I would see, and the theme of mercy hidden in the book of Job. I wanted to write about everything.

I would get to work 2 hours early and write on my dissertation. I would stay after work sometimes 4-5 hours. Late into the evening, writing. Then I would ‘clock out’ of my dissertation and write more on one of those other topics I just couldn’t get out of my head. Sometimes I would go home exhausted, ready to climb into bed and fall asleep. Yet instead of sleeping, I would be flooded with more ideas that kept me up even later into the evening, furiously typing on my phone.

Not everything I wrote then was good. Little of it was. Even the few essays I later got published in various places went through many revisions.

If you have been subscribed to this Substack over the past year, you have watched this unfold in real time. That brings me to why I wanted to write this post.

First, to say thank you!

Second, to acknowledge the variety of topics I have chased down this past year. I started this Substack thinking it would be a more focused place for essays on spiritual care and Chaplaincy. Instead, it has become home to a wide range of theological, cultural, pastoral, and personal topics. Some are incredibly niche, such as homelessness in the community I serve. Other essays have explored time travel and divine foreknowledge (actually, I think this essay is still forthcoming… check back soon).

All of which is to say, I am fairly sure I am doing this wrong. If my purpose were simply to grow an audience, a clearly defined and narrow niche would probably help. At least I presume it would.

I heard someone once say, “I write for the same reason my dog barks.” The implication being, who the Hell knows?! Most days I feel the same way. It’s encouraging to see that some of you open the emails, and I love getting comments or DM’s from you all. Yet I would still venture to say I’d keep uploading my essays into the void if no one were reading… at least for a while. But it’s still better to have someone to talk with. And who knows, maybe that is why my dog barks after all.

So, on that note, here is the third reason for making this post. I’d like to ask you to share my Substack with someone you think might enjoy it. I don’t make that request lightly. When you share someone’s writing, you lend it a little of your own trust. I am grateful to anyone willing to do that for me.

Whether or not you share it, thank you for being here. A year ago, I needed a place to keep writing. Thank you for being that place for me. That has meant more to me than I know how to say.

Leave a comment

Jon Nichols

A Year of Barking into the Void