Jun 3, 2026 | Blog |
I love reading the biographies of daring and creative people. They widen my horizons and give me a taste of a world different to my own.
But I always find myself wondering where the courage to cross new boundaries comes from. Or the daring to attempt outrageous actions. How can such people risk criticism or live with a result less than they dreamed of? Are they ready to navigate failure? And what is the role of ambition?
I have a conflicted relationship with ambition. Early in mid-life I was accused of being too ambitious, of daring to challenge the status quo. I do not have a confronting personality, nor am I inclined naturally to push boundaries, so this accusation came as a shock. Being a woman was the apparent problem in that circumstance.
The Courage of Faith
But in the process, I learned to make a distinction between selfish ambition and humble ambition. (Yes, there is such a thing!) I was compelled to face with courage a new challenge because I believed I was called to it. Later I wrote in Finding Your Voice, a chapter I called “The Courage of Faith”. It was based on one of my favourite sayings: Hope is hearing the melody of the future. Faith is to dance to it.
Recently I discovered how The Message paraphrase renders Apostle Paul’s words in Romans 8 about being adopted as God’s son or daughter: “This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It’s adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike ‘What’s next, Papa?’”
That’s how I am trying to face life now in my senior years. What’s next, Father?
So where does the necessary faith and courage come from? Some have it naturally it seems, some only after divine healing of life’s scars. But some appear to be needlessly risk-averse. Regularly downplaying our ability and gifts, the imposter syndrome, leads many to reject opportunities to dare, to lead or to serve. It goes with the territory of being a woman, but all of us can fall into it.
A Secure Base
“Life is best organized as a series of daring ventures from a secure base.” The words come from a British psychologist advocating for children to be raised to live adventurously. Presumably, this needs more than adventure playgrounds, though they are a good start. The recent Adolescence episodes illustrate the parenting deficits many children suffer, even in Western countries.
But it’s not only children who need a secure base. We all do. When I was speaking about this last Sunday, a friend pointed me to a website, The Circle of Security. It has many practical applications of value to parents, teachers, and therapists. As I explored it, I found myself strongly resonating with them.
I had a secure childhood. Although we moved many times (3 Australian states, 8 schools) I knew I was loved and protected by my parents. I had the opportunity to succeed at school and go into higher education, and my parents believed in me. It set me up for an adventurous adulthood.
My parents also trusted me. I rode a Vespa scooter from the age of 16. (That was South Australia in those days!) And then they released me into the big wide world, supporting my decision to move to the US to marry my fiancé, though they couldn’t afford to come to the wedding.
A good start, yes, but now my security rests in more recent experience. I have a great family of my own, a loving husband, children, and grandchildren. And I have received healing of the wounds inevitable in a long life.
Secure for this Season too
In this season, I have found writing books very satisfying. Especially when they are published and the hard copy is in my hands. But it is also scary. It too needs courage. Do my ideas stand up to scrutiny? Is my theology thoroughly biblical? Will people be helped by all this hard work? A secure base is still needed at this stage of life. With the letting go challenges of old age, I find my mind focused on what gives me the necessary security to keep learning and daring.
Best of all, I know I am secure in God’s love. As a forgiven God-born child, I am at home in an incredible intimacy with the divine Father. It is security like the prodigal found in his waiting father’s open arms. So at home with this Good Father and guided by the Spirit, I can grow to be more like my model, Jesus. That’s how I want to live, how I can continue to dare.
Jennifer Turner
Photo credit: Michalovski: “Three Young Men in Fiery Furnace” (Faras Cathedral, Sudan)
May 2, 2026 | Blog |
Someone has said: Sitting at a piano does not create a masterpiece, but you had better be sitting at one when the creative impetus arrives!
After dedicating twelve months to writing my latest book, I’ve been reflecting on the creative process. This time I am not just sharing my story of finding my voice. The words and concepts are more theological. I’ve been reflecting on God’s love and what Scripture tells us about it. So I feel I have had to struggle with the big ideas and how to express them in everyday language. They didn’t just flow.
I always want to find words that connect with people who didn’t grow up with the King James English Bible as I did. People who never have time to think deeply about the things on an ordinary day. And who always feel less than perfect in the presence of a high holy God. Or whose experience of their own father stands in the way of feeling safe with the one Jesus called Father.
When I was younger, I could write non-stop for a three-hour exam about something I knew or had studied. And I still don’t have trouble with a flow of words when I speak. But in this book I passionately long for readers to find the incredible intimacy available with our Good Father. But the words haven’t come readily.
I found some funny quirks when I got to the proof-reading stage. Several times I had quoted a verse of Scripture and given it an NIV or other recent translation reference. But I had actually been using the ancient expressions of the1604 King James version I had learnt in my youth. I’m grateful now for that memorising in the past, because today it is not as easy to remember the lyrics of songs, let alone poetry or Bible verses.
Enjoying The Work
But the big question behind a writing project is always: How does the creative impulse come? Can I do anything to prompt it? Is it up to me anyway when I know this is what I am called to do in this season of my life?
For most of us creativity isn’t automatic. Certainly, writing is work; it is just hard yakka! It requires routines and disciplines. At least, it does for me. Though I have a general outline of where I want a book to go, each chapter takes at least a month to build its content and be satisfied with a first draft. Then it is revising, moving parts around, always being disappointed that it is not like CS Lewis’ or Tim Keller’s writing and searching, searching, searching for better words until it is, not perfect, but enough.
I have been reading and listening to other writers describe their writing practice. A thousand spontaneous words before breakfast in the first light of dawn, one says of their method. Others hide away in a café to get the project underway. (I can’t do that, I like watching people too much to be productive in a cafe.) Some go to a retreat setting and write continuously for a month or a week or a weekend. But I like the home feel of my study and library, and the routines with my husband of a morning swim and an afternoon walk along the coast.
Last year I tried at first spending the mornings writing, and giving the other half of the day to mentoring and teaching prep. But I found my mind wandering in the mornings into what I was anticipating in the afternoon. It worked better when I devoted the afternoons to writing on days I had them free. Then it was sheer luxury to be able to turn to the book with no more commitments that day.
Where Does Creativity Come From?
And the creativity? Well, it does come when you sit down at the computer (or desk or piano), though from where is a marvel. It is not just stored knowledge or an algorithm. It is human capability; a person made in the image of the Creator God to be creative. Hurrah for humans! In this age of AI, cherishing our humanity is doubly important, whether we acknowledge the divine impetus or not.
Sometimes, creative ideas or solutions come for me through prayer, on a walk, in the shower or sitting at the desk. Sometimes, being in relationship with a loving and knowing God, I know it is the Holy Spirit gifting inspiration within the ordinary human journey. Dallas Willard calls our body the “power pack” of the spirit. Perhaps that could also be “Spirit” with a capital S. Certainly, it is a partnership between body and spirit/Spirit. And not just for a writer, but in every area of life.
The Genesis origin story tells us that after the acts of creation, God rested and enjoyed all that was made. As a lesser creative, I am enjoying that my book – about being at home with a Good Father in an incredible growing intimacy – is at the publishers. And I have learned a lot more about the creative process under the loving hand of God.
Jennifer Turner
