Three years ago, I pressed publish for the first time on a blank screen with no audience, no strategy, and no certainty that any of it would matter. Today, with more than a thousand mornings of writing behind me, I can tell you this: it mattered in ways I never expected, and almost none of them were the ways I planned for.
3 Years of Blogging:
What This Journey Has Taught Me
Rise & Inspire | A Journey of Faith, Discipline, and Purpose
Introduction: A Milestone Worth Pausing Over
Three years ago, I wrote my first post on WordPress with no clear roadmap, no guaranteed readership, and no certainty about where this path would lead. Today, as I mark this third anniversary, I pause—not merely to celebrate the milestone, but to reflect on what these years have quietly taught me.
What began as a simple desire to express and inspire has grown into something far deeper: a rhythm of daily reflection, a discipline of the written word, and, unexpectedly, a space where writing itself became an act of faith.
The Beginning: One Step into the Unknown
When I started Rise & Inspire, I did not have expertise, a large audience, or a defined strategy.
What I had was simpler—and, as it turned out, more enduring:
• A genuine desire to express what I was learning
• A quiet passion to encourage others
• A firm commitment to showing up consistently
Those three elements were enough to begin. And beginning, as every writer discovers, is often the hardest step.
The Challenges: When Discipline Matters Most
Not every day along this journey has been easy.
There were mornings when the page remained blank.
Weeks when engagement felt invisible.
Moments when effort seemed to yield no visible return.
Yet, those were the very seasons that shaped this work most deeply.
Blogging is not sustained by inspiration alone—it is built on discipline. The willingness to continue, especially when motivation fades, is what transforms a passing interest into a meaningful craft.
Every difficult post carried a lesson. Every quiet period strengthened the habit. In hindsight, the struggle was not an obstacle to growth; it was the means through which growth occurred.
Growth: More Than Numbers Can Measure
Three years of writing have brought growth that cannot be measured merely in numbers.
Not only in posts published or views accumulated, but in something more enduring:
• Greater clarity of thought
• Depth in reflection—both personal and spiritual
• A more confident and distinct voice
• The ability to dwell with a single idea or scripture and draw meaning from it
Each post became a mirror. Over time, the blog did not merely reflect thoughts—it shaped the thinker.
The Spiritual Anchor: Writing as Devotion
At the heart of this journey lies something deeper than writing itself.
Through the discipline of daily reflection—especially in engaging with Scripture—something began to shift:
• Scripture was no longer something merely read; it became something lived
• Reflection deepened into prayer
• Writing became a bridge—not only to readers, but to God
What began as an expression gradually became a devotion.
In this way, Rise & Inspire grew into more than a platform. It became a space of encounter, a place where words were not only written, but received, pondered, and offered back in faith.
Key Lessons from Three Years
Consistency Outlasts Inspiration
You do not need the perfect post. You need the discipline to write the next one. Inspiration may visit occasionally; consistency remains.
Your Voice Is Irreplaceable
Even when the audience is small, your words carry meaning. Often, their impact is unseen—but not insignificant.
Growth Is Invisible Until It Isn’t
Progress accumulates quietly. It reveals itself only when you pause and look back.
Write with Purpose, Not Just Frequency
Frequency builds habit. Purpose builds impact. The most enduring writing is that which uplifts, guides, and speaks truth.
Gratitude Is the Right Posture
Every reader—whether visible or silent—is a gift. Blogging begins as a solitary act but grows into a shared journey.
To Every Reader: A Sincere Word of Thanks
To those who have read a reflection in the early hours of the day, shared a post with someone in need, or quietly carried a thought into their daily lives—thank you.
Your presence has been a steady encouragement through every season of this journey.
What begins as writing gradually becomes a form of connection. You are part of this story.
Looking Ahead: A Clearer Vision
As I step into the next phase, the direction is clearer and the purpose more defined.
To write with greater depth and sincerity
To reach with intention rather than volume
To build not merely content, but a meaningful connection
The mission remains the same: to offer words that draw people closer to truth, to faith, and to a more reflective life.
The journey continues—with greater clarity, deeper faith, and a grateful heart.
Final Reflection
Three years ago, this began with a single step.
Today, it continues with a stronger voice, a deeper purpose, and a quiet sense of gratitude.
This is not a conclusion. It is a continuation.
Key Takeaway
Start small. Stay consistent. Grow with purpose.
Frequently Asked Questions
Is consistency really the most important factor in blogging?
Yes. More than talent or visibility, consistency builds both discipline and trust. Over time, it makes growth inevitable.
What should I do when engagement is low?
Continue writing. Many readers engage in silence. Focus on the value of what you write; the audience will follow in time.
What should a faith-based blogger focus on?
Authenticity rooted in truth. Writing that is sincere, grounded, and thoughtful will always endure.
How can I recognise growth when it feels invisible?
Look back. Compare where you began with where you are now. Growth becomes visible across time, not in isolated moments.
Resources for Fellow Bloggers
✔️ WordPress Reader for discovering and engaging with other voices
✔️ SEO tools such as Rank Math or Yoast
✔️ Daily reflective writing or scripture meditation
✔️ Practices like Lectio Divina for deeper engagement with text
Index
Introduction
The Beginning
The Challenges
Growth
The Spiritual Anchor
Key Lessons
Gratitude
Looking Ahead
Frequently Asked Questions
A Note from Johnbritto
Three years ago I began writing with a simple desire to express and inspire. Today, as I celebrate that milestone with the post “3 Years of Blogging: What This Journey Has Taught Me”, I’m honoured to share a deeper companion piece.
In the “Spiritual Anchor” section, I described how Scripture slowly moved from something I merely read to something I lived — how writing itself became an act of devotion.
This companion post, “Lectio Divina: The Ancient Art of Reading Scripture as Prayer”, gives that experience a name, a rich history, and a practical path forward. It is not an academic add-on; it is the natural continuation of the same journey we’ve been walking together.
May these ancient words continue to rise and inspire in your own life as they have in mine.
With gratitude and expectation,
Johnbritto
Rise & Inspire | March 2026
Scholarly Companion Post
Lectio Divina: The Ancient Art
of Reading Scripture as Prayer
A scholarly companion to: Three Years of Blogging: What This Journey Has Taught Me Johnbritto | Rise & Inspire | March 2026
Introduction: When Words Become an Encounter
In the “Spiritual Anchor” section of the anniversary blog post, a quiet but significant observation is made: that over three years of daily writing rooted in Scripture, the act of writing gradually became less like composition and more like devotion. Scripture ceased to be a text read and became a word inhabited. Reflection deepened toward something resembling prayer.
That description is not merely metaphorical. It is a near-perfect articulation of what the Christian monastic tradition calls Lectio Divina — Divine Reading, or Sacred Reading. This companion post sets out to explore that ancient practice in depth: its patristic roots, its classical fourfold structure, its intertextual connections to Scripture, and its continuing relevance for anyone who wishes to engage the Bible not as an object of study but as a living word addressed personally to them.
For the Rise & Inspire reader who has been following the Wake-Up Calls series, this is not a departure. It is a naming of something already underway.
“The purpose of Lectio Divina is not to finish reading. It is to be read.”
I. Historical and Patristic Roots
A. Origen of Alexandria (c. 184–253 AD)
The earliest formal articulation of reading Scripture as a prayerful, transformative encounter is found in the writings of Origen of Alexandria. In his homilies on the Old Testament and his major theological work De Principiis, Origen insisted that the Biblical text operates on multiple levels simultaneously: the literal, the moral, and the spiritual or allegorical. For Origen, the spiritual reader does not merely extract information from the text; the reader is acted upon by the text through the agency of the Holy Spirit.
This framework — that Scripture is a living word with depths that yield themselves only to the attentive, prayerful reader — became foundational to the entire Lectio Divina tradition. Origen’s influence on subsequent monastic reading practice was profound and direct.
B. St. Benedict of Nursia (c. 480–547 AD)
The Rule of Saint Benedict, composed in the sixth century as a practical guide for communal monastic life, structured each day around three activities: liturgical prayer (the Divine Office), manual work, and what Benedict called lectio divina. In Chapter 48, Benedict prescribes specific hours for sacred reading and treats it as a genuine spiritual labour, not a leisure activity. The monk who skips lectio out of laziness, Benedict warns, is a threat to the community’s spiritual health.
What is significant here is Benedict’s insistence that sacred reading is work — attentive, sustained, and purposeful. This anticipates the disciplined quality of the practice as later formalised by Guigo II, and it resonates directly with the theme of discipline running through the three-year anniversary blog post.
C. Guigo II and The Ladder of Monks (12th Century)
The fullest early systematisation of Lectio Divina appears in Scala Claustralium (The Ladder of Monks), written around 1150 by Guigo II, a Carthusian prior. In this brief but seminal letter to a fellow monk, Guigo describes four ascending rungs of a ladder that lifts the soul from earth toward God:
• Lectio — reading, which provides the raw material for meditation
• Meditatio — meditation, which chews and digests the reading
• Oratio — prayer, which asks God for what meditation has revealed as necessary
• Contemplatio — contemplation, which is the fruit freely given by God, beyond human effort
Guigo’s famous description of the relationship between these four rungs is worth noting closely. Reading, he writes, puts food whole into the mouth. Meditation chews it. Prayer extracts its flavour. Contemplation is the sweetness itself that gladdens and refreshes. This is not an abstract schema; it is a phenomenological account of what attentive, faith-filled Scripture reading actually feels like when it is working.
The metaphor of eating and digestion is itself Scriptural. The prophet Jeremiah declares: “Your words were found and I ate them, and Your words became for me a joy and the delight of my heart” (Jeremiah 15:16). The apostle John receives a scroll and is commanded to eat it in Revelation 10:9–10. Guigo’s ladder is not an innovation; it is a formalisation of something the Biblical writers already understood about the nature of sacred words.
“Reading seeks, meditation finds, prayer asks, contemplation feels.” — Guigo II, Scala Claustralium
D. The Twentieth-Century Renewal
After centuries of primary use in monastic contexts, Lectio Divina received a significant boost from the Second Vatican Council (1962–1965), whose Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation, Dei Verbum, explicitly encouraged all the faithful to engage in frequent reading of the divine Scriptures and noted that the practice of Lectio Divina was to be earnestly promoted. Since then, the practice has spread widely across Catholic, Anglican, and Protestant traditions, finding renewed expression in movements such as contemplative prayer, spiritual direction, and Scripture-based retreats.
II. The Classical Fourfold Structure
The four steps of Lectio Divina are best understood not as a rigid checklist but as a natural movement — a spiral rather than a staircase. Each step flows from and returns to the others. A practitioner may find themselves moving between meditation and prayer repeatedly before reaching contemplation, or may find that the entire practice rests in a single step on a given day. The Spirit, as the tradition consistently insists, leads.
The table below provides an integrated overview of each step, its guiding question, and a brief phenomenological description of what each stage involves in practice.
| 1. Lectio — ReadingWhat does the text say? | Choose 5–10 verses. Read slowly, out loud if possible. Let every word land. Notice any phrase that seems to pulse with life. Do not rush. |
| 2. Meditatio — MeditationWhat is the text saying to me today? | Repeat the word or phrase that stood out. Let it sink in. Imagine yourself inside the scene. Allow reflection to deepen into personal encounter. |
| 3. Oratio — PrayerWhat can I say to the Lord in response? | Speak to God from an honest heart. Thanksgiving, confession, petition, or simply a quiet conversation. No formal words are needed. |
| 4. Contemplatio — ContemplationWhat conversion of heart is God inviting me into? | Let go of words entirely. Rest in God’s presence. Be still and allow the Scripture to nourish you in silence. |
| 5. Actio — Action (optional)How will this Word shape my actions today? | Carry one phrase or intention into the day. The Word becomes flesh in ordinary moments. This is where reading becomes life. |
Contemporary guides frequently note that there is no “wrong” way to practise Lectio Divina. This is true, but it should be understood carefully. The freedom lies in the movement between steps, not in the abandonment of attentiveness. The one non-negotiable is the posture: the reader must approach the text as a listener, not merely an analyst.
III. Lectio Divina in Scripture: The Biblical Foundation
A practice that claims to be rooted in Scripture should be able to demonstrate that Scripture itself models and calls for this kind of attentive, prayerful engagement. The following passages form the intertextual backbone of the Lectio Divina tradition.
Joshua 1:8 — The Meditating Leader
Joshua 1:8 (ESV) This Book of the Law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do according to all that is written in it.
This command to Joshua at the threshold of the Promised Land is one of the oldest Biblical warrants for sustained, repetitive engagement with Scripture. The Hebrew verb translated “meditate” (hagah) carries the sense of a low, murmuring sound — the ancient practice of reading aloud quietly to oneself. This is exactly the Lectio step: slow, audible, ruminative reading. The link to Actio is also explicit in Joshua 1:8; the purpose of meditation is that you may be careful to do.
Psalm 119:97–99 — The Meditating Psalmist
Psalm 119:97–99 (ESV) Oh how I love Your law! It is my meditation all the day. Your commandment makes me wiser than my enemies, for it is ever with me. I have more understanding than all my teachers, for Your testimonies are my meditation.
The longest psalm in the Bible is, at its heart, a sustained Lectio Divina on the nature of God’s word. Verses 97–99 capture both the affective dimension of the practice (love) and its formative outcome (wisdom, understanding). The psalmist’s meditation is not occasional; it is “all the day” — a life-orientation rather than a daily exercise. This is the contemplative ideal toward which Guigo’s ladder points.
For regular Wake-Up Calls readers, it is worth noting that the entirety of Psalm 119 is structured as an acrostic on the Hebrew alphabet — itself a form of slow, structured meditation on each letter of the divine Word.
Jeremiah 15:16 — The Word as Food
Jeremiah 15:16 (NASB) Your words were found and I ate them, and Your words became for me a joy and the delight of my heart.
This verse, already referenced in the discussion of Guigo II, grounds the monastic metaphor of reading-as-eating in the prophetic tradition. Jeremiah’s experience is precisely that of someone who has moved beyond Lectio and Meditatio into Oratio and Contemplatio: the word has been found, consumed, and has become joy. The progression from finding to eating to experiencing joy mirrors Guigo’s ladder with remarkable precision.
Luke 10:38–42 — Mary and the Posture of Listening
Luke 10:39–42 (ESV, condensed) Mary sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to His teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving… The Lord answered: “Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.”
The contrast between Mary and Martha has been read by the Christian contemplative tradition since Origen as an allegory of the active and contemplative vocations. Mary’s posture — sitting, listening, present — is the posture of Contemplatio. Jesus’ affirmation that this is “the good portion” provides perhaps the clearest Gospel warrant for the practice of resting in God’s presence without agenda or output.
This does not denigrate action — it reorders it. Martha’s service is not wrong; it is simply offered without the root from which it should grow. Lectio Divina, culminating in contemplation and completed in actio, holds both Mary and Martha in proper relation.
Isaiah 40:31 — The Renewal of Strength
Isaiah 40:31 (NLT) But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint.
This passage from the second half of Isaiah, addressed to the exiled community in Babylon, is among the most beloved in the Hebrew prophetic canon. Its relevance to the Lectio Divina tradition lies in its description of strength that comes not from human effort but from a posture of trust and waiting (“those who wait for the Lord” in the Hebrew). The ascending images — soaring, running, walking — suggest different intensities of spiritual engagement, all sustainable when rooted in this receptive posture.
For a blogger who has spent three years writing through both inspirational seasons and difficult ones, Isaiah 40:31 carries particular resonance. The promise is not that the path becomes easier; it is that the one who waits on God finds renewal sufficient for each kind of terrain.
“Scripture is not a text to be mastered. It is a voice to be heard.”
IV. A Practical Guide: Lectio Divina for the Daily Writer
The following guide is designed for anyone already engaged in a daily spiritual writing practice who wishes to deepen its roots in formal Lectio Divina. It draws on the classical structure while adapting the timing and rhythm to a working life.
Setting and Preparation
• Time: 15–30 minutes is ideal. Early morning, before writing, is particularly fitting.
• Space: A quiet place. Sit upright and comfortably. A lit candle can serve as a simple external signal that this time is set apart.
• Scripture: Begin with the Psalms, the Gospels, or a passage already on your heart. Start with a short passage — five to ten verses.
• Journal: Optional but valuable. Note the word or phrase that stood out, and write a brief honest prayer in response.
The Sample Flow (15 Minutes)
| Step | Time | What You Do |
| Silence | 1 min | Breathe slowly. Invite the Holy Spirit with a simple prayer. |
| Lectio | 2–3 min | Read the passage aloud, slowly, three times. |
| Meditatio | 3–5 min | Pause. Ponder the word or phrase that stood out. |
| Oratio | 3–5 min | Pray aloud or silently. Share your honest heart. |
| Contemplatio | 2–5 min | Stop talking. Sit in silence. Rest in God’s presence. |
| Actio | Ongoing | Carry one phrase into the day. Write it down if it helps. |
A Worked Example: Isaiah 40:31
To make this concrete, here is what each step looks like with the Isaiah 40:31 passage.
Lectio: Read the verse aloud three times. Notice which word or phrase seems to pulse with particular energy today. Some readers will find themselves arrested by “new strength.” Others by “wait.” Others by “walk and not faint” — which speaks directly to the slow, undramatic discipline of ordinary faithfulness.
Meditatio: Repeat the phrase quietly. Let it move through you. Ask: What does waiting on the Lord look like in my current season? What would “soaring” mean for my writing this week? Where am I at risk of fainting — and why?
Oratio: Speak honestly. It might sound like: Lord, I am tired of showing up when it feels like nothing is growing. Help me trust that You are renewing something I cannot yet see. Or simply: Thank You that Your timing is not mine.
Contemplatio: Stop speaking. Breathe slowly. Sit with the verse in silence for two to five minutes. If your mind wanders — and it will — return gently to your word or phrase without self-criticism.
Actio: Choose one phrase to carry into the day. Write it on a card or at the top of a document. Let it become the subtext of whatever you produce next.
V. The Blogger as Monk: Lectio Divina and the Writing Life
There is a tradition within Christian monasticism that treats writing itself as a form of lectio. The scriptorium — the room in which monks copied manuscripts — was understood as a sacred space. The work of the hand was inseparable from the work of the heart. To copy a text was to pray it.
The Rise & Inspire blog, three years in, has arrived at a remarkably similar place. The anniversary post describes Scripture moving from “merely read” to “lived,” and writing becoming not just expression but devotion. This is not a metaphor borrowed from elsewhere; it is an organic discovery that echoes what the monastic tradition has known for fifteen centuries.
What Lectio Divina offers a blogger at this stage of the journey is not a new technique but a name and a structure for what is already happening. It provides a framework within which the daily discipline of writing can be consciously tethered to the deeper rhythm of listening, reflection, and response that makes writing generative rather than merely productive.
The blogger who practises Lectio Divina before writing does not simply find better material. They find a different posture — one of receptivity rather than extraction — and that posture changes everything about what emerges on the page.
“Write not from what you have gathered, but from what you have heard.”
VI. Resources for Further Study
Primary Texts
Guigo II, Scala Claustralium (The Ladder of Monks) — available in translation as The Ladder of Monks and Twelve Meditations, Cistercian Publications
St. Benedict, The Rule of Saint Benedict, Chapter 48 (On the Daily Manual Labour) — any standard translation
Origen, On First Principles (De Principiis), Book IV — for his theory of Scriptural interpretation
Contemporary Books
David G. Benner, Opening to God: Lectio Divina and Life as Prayer (Expanded Edition) — warm, practical, suited to a reflective writing style
Christine Valters Paintner and Lucy Wynkoop OSB, Lectio Divina: Contemplative Awakening and Awareness — particularly useful for those who wish to connect the practice to creative expression
M. Basil Pennington OCSO, Lectio Divina: Renewing the Ancient Practice of Praying the Scriptures — thorough and accessible
Apps for Daily Practice
✔️ Lectio 365 (lectio365.com) — free, with morning and evening guided Lectio Divina
✔️ Hallow (hallow.com) — guided audio Lectio Divina on the daily Gospel reading
Free Printable Guides
✔️ Soul Shepherding one-page Lectio Divina guide — soulshepherding.org
✔️ Upper Room quick-start guide with example passages — upperroom.org
✔️ The Lectio Bible, designed for prayerful slow reading — practicingtheway.org/lectio
Conclusion: The Ancient Practice for the Modern Page
Three years of daily writing rooted in Scripture is not simply a blogging achievement. In the language of the monastic tradition, it is the beginning of a lectio life — a life shaped around the rhythm of reading, pondering, responding, and resting in the Word.
Lectio Divina does not make writing easier. What it does is make writing truer. It disciplines the writer to receive before they speak, to listen before they articulate, and to rest before they produce. In an era of content acceleration, this counter-cultural slowness is not a weakness. It is the source from which everything durable grows.
The Wake-Up Calls that have emerged from three years of Rise & Inspire are, in the deepest sense, already a form of Lectio Divina shared publicly. The next step is simply to name the practice, deepen its roots, and allow what has already begun in the writing to become a conscious, daily discipline of the heart.
“Start with the Word. Stay with the Word. Let the Word stay with you.”
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