From Foggy to Focused: Writing With Direction and Purpose

Friend, have you ever reread something you wrote and thought, I know what I’m trying to say, but I’m not sure it translates?

That moment usually hits me after the writing is “done.”
The sentences are clean.
The theology is sound.
But the message feels … foggy.

I’ve learned that when a piece doesn’t translate, it’s rarely a passion problem. It’s almost always a clarity problem. Somewhere between what I meant and what the reader received, the path bent just enough to lose momentum. And clarity — whether we like it or not — is part of our stewardship.

Paul asks a question that keeps returning to me: “If the trumpet does not sound a clear call, who will get ready for battle?” (1 Corinthians 14:8, NIV).

That question shapes how I think about communication. In Communicating for a Change, Andy Stanley articulates a simple practice he calls “Me-We-God-You-We.” For me, this isn’t a formula to follow but a path that holds the reader’s attention.

I start in Me — naming the tension honestly, meeting the reader where they are, not where they think they should be, without rushing to clean it up.

From there, I move to We — widening the lens just enough to show this struggle isn’t isolated. It’s shared. The moment we recognize ourselves in one another, the reader leans in.

Only then do I turn to God. Not to validate the message but to let Scripture interrupt it. This is where the tension meets truth — and where the message finds its center.

From there, the focus shifts to You — not with a list of steps but with a clear invitation. One way to respond. One small act of faithfulness. Something the reader can carry into real life.

And then it returns us to We again. Not as a conclusion but as a reminder. We don’t carry truth forward alone. We practice it together — learning, listening, refining as we go. 

Clarity isn’t a destination we reach once; it’s a discipline we return to, side by side, trusting God to use our words in ways we may never fully see. Before you write your next piece, pause long enough to ask one question: Does this translate?

Then sketch it — loosely — through Me-We-God-You-We. Not to constrain your voice but to steady it. Let the structure do what it’s meant to do: hold attention long enough for truth to be heard. Clarity doesn’t come from saying more. It comes from knowing where you’re going — and bringing the reader with you.

Blessings,

Kelly Kirby Worley

How might your message change if you focused less on covering everything and more on holding the reader’s attention through intentional movement?