Stop Praying About Your Book and Start Writing It
When discernment becomes delay — and how to tell the difference
Let me ask you something, and I want you to be honest with yourself, not with me.
How long have you been praying about your book?
Six months? Two years? Longer?
And in all that time — all that sincere, heartfelt praying — how many pages have you actually written?
If the answer makes you a little uncomfortable, good. That discomfort is not condemnation. It’s information. And it might be the most useful thing you’ve felt about your book in a long time.
Because here’s what I’ve learned after writing more than 30 books over three decades: prayer is essential to the writing life — but it can also become the most spiritual-sounding way to avoid writing.
Discernment has a shadow side
Please hear me: I am not telling you to stop praying. Prayer is where every one of my books has started. I would never write a word without it.
But discernment — the honest desire to know God’s will — has a shadow side. And it’s so subtle that most of us never see it.
Real discernment asks, “Lord, is this what You want me to write?”
The shadow version asks the same question on repeat — for months, for years — not because God is silent, but because the answer might require us to do the uncomfortable work of writing.
As long as you’re still “seeking clarity,” no one can misunderstand your message. No editor can reject it. No reader can ignore it. Sound familiar? I wrote about this hiding place in my last post — the way “I need more clarity” becomes a respectable cover for “I haven’t decided to finish.”
Prayer can become the same kind of cover. A holier one, but a cover all the same.
The honest question behind the prayer
Let me help you do a little heart-check. You don’t have to answer me — just answer yourself.
Are you praying for direction, or praying for permission to keep waiting?
Seeking direction should help you discern your next step—not become an endless loop. You ask, you listen, you get a sense of the path — and then you walk it. It’s active. It ends in movement.
Permission-seeking never ends. It asks the same question in new words. “Should I write this?” becomes “Is now the right time?” becomes “Should I write this book or the other one?” becomes “Let me fast about it one more time.”
Here’s the uncomfortable truth: If you’ve already discerned your message and reader, you don’t need more confirmation—you need a plan to begin. He answered them the day He put the message on your heart and wouldn’t let you shake it. The burning you feel every time you think about this book? That’s not indecision. That’s assignment.
You’re not waiting for a green light. You’re sitting at a green light, praying about whether it’s really green.
What if obedience is the confirmation you’ve been waiting for?
Many Christian writers are waiting for a feeling — a deep, unmistakable certainty that this is their calling — before they begin.
You may be praying for a confirmation that only obedience can give you.
Write the first chapter. Then see how you feel. I’m willing to bet the fog lifts faster in thirty days of writing than in three years of praying about writing.
Prayer was never meant to replace the work
Let’s be really practical for a moment.
If you’ve been procrastinating on writing your book while calling it “praying about it,” you’re not alone — and you’re not a bad Christian. You’re a normal writer facing the same resistance every writer faces. The only difference is that you’ve given the resistance a spiritual name.
Real prayer about your book sounds like this:
- “Lord, give me wisdom for this chapter” — and then you sit down and write the chapter.
- “Help me communicate this clearly” — and then you wrestle with the paragraph until it’s clear.
- “Show me the stories that belong here” — and then you dig through your journals and find them.
See the pattern? Prayer fuels the work. It doesn’t replace it.
Nehemiah is my favorite example. He prayed about the broken walls of Jerusalem — and then he asked the king for letters, timber, and safe passage. He prayed and he made a plan, gathered resources, and organized workers. The book of Nehemiah is basically a project management manual wrapped in a prayer journal.
Pray like Nehemiah. Then work like Nehemiah.
The pray-then-write rhythm
So what does this actually look like, day to day? Here’s the simple rhythm I use — and the one I’d give you if we were sitting across a table with coffee:
- Pray short, then write long. Five minutes of prayer. Sixty minutes of writing. If your prayer time is longer than your writing time, the ratio is backwards.
- Pray about specific pages, not the whole book. “Lord, help me write the next chapter” is a prayer that gets answered. “Lord, bless my book” is a prayer that lets you off the hook.
- Stop asking questions you’ve already answered. If you know the message, know the reader, and know the change you want to see — you have enough. Write.
- Set a deadline and pray toward it. A deadline is not unspiritual. It’s stewardship. Tell God (and one trusted friend) when the draft will be done.
- Let the writing itself be an act of worship. Every page is an offering. You don’t have to choose between praying and writing — the writing, done faithfully, is the prayer.
A final word, from someone who’s been there
I know this post might sting a little. It would have stung me, once.
If you’ve been circling your book in prayer for a long time, I want you to know: I don’t think you’re lazy, and I don’t think your faith is weak. I think you’re sincere — and sincerity, pointed in the wrong direction, can keep you stuck for years.
But I also want you to hear this clearly:
You don’t need another sign. You need a writing appointment.
The message is already in your heart. The readers are already waiting. The only thing standing between them and the book God put in you is the decision to open the document and begin.
So here’s my challenge: pray for five minutes today. Then write for sixty.
And do it again tomorrow.
Your next step
Are you still seeking direction—or has preparing to write become a way to postpone writing?
Take my free 90-second quiz, What Kind of Writer Are You?, to discover your writer type, your biggest strength, the hidden trap stalling your book, and one practical step you can take today.
Keep praying. Give yourself a writing appointment, too.