From Soul to Story: How to Write About Your Faith

Writing about your faith for the first time can feel like standing on the edge of something tender and holy. You have a story—a moment of awakening, a stretch of wilderness, a quiet transformation—and something in you wants to put words to it. Maybe it’s for your journal. Maybe for your memoir. Or maybe you're not sure why, only that it matters.

But then the doubts creep in: What if I sound preachy? What if I don’t get it right? What if no one understands?

You’re not alone. Writing about your spiritual life takes courage. But it also takes craft. And like any good story, your faith story can be told in a way that’s deeply human, grounded in truth, and free of performance.

If you're just beginning to write about your faith and the moments that shaped you, here are five tips to help you get started.

1. Start with what’s real

Don’t try to impress. Just tell the truth.

Your faith story doesn’t need to sound spiritual—it needs to sound like you. Write what you felt, what you feared, what you found (or lost) in those moments of transformation. Let the words come from your actual experience, not the version you think someone else wants to hear.

In "My Soul Keeps the Score," I explored how the body carries memory—and how faith and spirituality intersect with that deeper knowing. It wasn’t about convincing anyone of a theological truth; it was about naming my own. You can do the same. 

2. Write to bear witness, not to convince

When we try to persuade people about our beliefs, we risk moving into preachy territory. But when we bear witness—when we simply say, This is what I saw, this is what I felt, this is what changed in me—something opens up.

You don’t have to speak for anyone else—not your church, your family, your denomination, or even your past self. Write from where you are now, and let that be enough.

Your story doesn’t need a sermon. It needs your voice. It needs your presence.

(If you want more on this idea, I wrote this earlier post on how to write about faith without sounding preachy.)

3. Get specific

Faith lives in the particular. Don’t say “I felt God’s presence”—tell us what that felt like. What did you see, hear, or remember when you sensed the presence of God? Was it warmth on your skin? A memory that surfaced? A sudden urge to forgive? What did it feel like to sit in silence during that season of doubt?

Instead of explaining your beliefs, describe your experiences. Let the reader encounter the sacred through your eyes. Let your story unfold through sensory details and real images. Your reader will connect most with the unique, textured truth of your own story—not vague spiritual language.

4. Let the mystery stay mysterious

You don’t need to tie it all up in a theological bow. Some of the most powerful faith stories end with a question, not an answer.

It’s okay if you’re still working through it. It’s okay if you don’t have language for everything. That’s what makes it real.

5. Write like you're offering a gift, not making a sale

Writing about your faith isn’t about proving anything. It’s about offering something true. You’re not trying to sell an idea—you’re extending an invitation.

Your story may help someone feel seen. It may crack open something tender in them. Or it may simply plant a seed that blooms later. 

That’s the quiet power of a well-told faith story—it doesn’t push, it invites.

So where do you begin?

Start with a moment that shaped your faith. A memory that won’t let you go. A conversation, a silence, a question that echoed.

Write from there. Write as if you’re sitting across the table from someone who truly wants to understand. Write like your story matters—because it does.

And if you're looking for a companion along the way, you can revisit these pieces when you need encouragement:

• "My Soul Keeps the Score": a reflection on how faith and memory live in the body
• "How to Write About Your Faith Without Sounding Preachy": a guide for writing honestly about your spiritual life

You don’t have to write it perfectly. You just have to begin. The sacred is found in the telling.