Don’t Preach. Write the Gospel.

If you’re a Christian writer working in YA fiction, you want your faith to matter in your stories. But maybe you’re worried about being “preachy.” You don’t want to water anything down, either, so how do we walk the line?

Since it’s Christmas, I was thinking about how God didn’t just say “I love you” with words. He placed a baby—God with us—in a manger. It was so ingeniously clever that a lot of people still have a hard time believing it.

Here’s the thing: your readers can smell a sermon from a mile away. The moment your character stops mid-action to deliver a three-point gospel presentation, you’ve lost them. Not because the gospel is bad, but because (to borrow the old phrase) talk is cheap. We talk a lot about “show don’t tell,” but I think it’s important to discuss the spiritual side of this concept. How do we draw readers toward God’s love in a way that sticks with them?

Instead of Preaching…

Let Your Characters Be Broken

Real faith doesn’t show up in perfect people spouting Bible verses. It shows up in broken people fumbling toward truth. 

Think about characters who have been through hell—literal scars, a parent who hits them, isolation that breaks them. When they pray, it’s not pretty. When they encounter God, they’re confused and angry and desperate. That’s real. That’s the faith your readers need to see.

Let’s avoid the sanitized version of the good Christian girl who makes all the right choices and gets rewarded. Give me the girl who is terrified, who questions, who doesn’t have neat answers but keeps showing up anyway.

Teach Theology Through Story, Not Sermon

You know what’s more powerful than having a character explain forgiveness? Showing a character actually forgiving someone who doesn’t deserve it—and making it cost something.

You know what’s more compelling than a lecture on God’s sovereignty? A character standing in the ruins of their life, seeing no way forward, and choosing to trust God anyway.

The best Christian fiction doesn’t tell readers what to believe. It shows them what belief looks like when it’s tested. When it’s costly. When it doesn’t make sense but you do it anyway because you’ve tasted something true.

Let Your Doubts Become Features, Not Bugs

If you’re writing YA, your readers are asking hard questions. They’re wrestling with suffering, injustice, sexuality, violence, loss. If your story doesn’t let them ask those questions—if your characters have all the answers tied up with a bow—you’re not helping them. You’re just giving them propaganda.

I created a character who feels like “collateral damage in God’s plans.” I didn’t write that to shock anyone. I wrote it because that’s how I feel when life goes sideways. And the answer isn’t to shut down the question. The answer is to let the question exist alongside faith. Because faith is being certain of what we do not see (Heb.11:1). 

Don’t Avoid the Darkness

Christian fiction has this unfortunate reputation for being soft. Safe. Boring.

Stop that.

The Bible is full of violence, betrayal, abuse, genocide, rape, and murder. David’s kids were a nightmare. Job lost everything. Jeremiah was thrown in a cistern. Jesus was tortured to death.

Your YA readers are living in the real world. They’ve experienced trauma. They’ve been hurt. They need stories that don’t flinch from darkness but also don’t glorify it. Stories that say, “Yes, this is horrible. And yes, there’s still hope.”

Faith is Weird and Wonderful, so Why Wouldn’t It Be in Your Story?

I try to write characters who encounter God in different ways. Some hear him speak. Some experience supernatural moments that are overwhelming and frightening before they’re peaceful. Some just get the sense that they’re not alone in the dark.

I attempted to write how people actually experience God—messy and unpredictable. 

Let your faith be strange. Let it be supernatural. Let it be uncomfortably real. The God of the Bible isn’t a cosmic life coach. He’s the Creator who breathes galaxies into existence and also notices when a sparrow falls. Let that bigness and that intimacy both be present in your work.

Write the Story Only You Can Write

You have a unique relationship with God. You’ve walked through things no one else has walked through. You’ve learned things in the fire that can’t be taught in a classroom.

That’swhat you bring to your fiction.

I don’t want to write a story that someone advises Christian publishers want. I don’t try to write what I think will sell to homeschool moms. I don’t go out intending to write the story a youth pastor would approve of.

I want to write the story that reflects what I actually believe about God, even when it’s complicated.

Remember: You’re Not Alone

Writing authentic Christian fiction is hard. The market is small. Publishers are risk-averse. Readers want either squeaky-clean or totally secular, and you’re trying to do something in between—or beyond.

But your work matters.

There’s a kid out there who needs to see faith that’s real. Who needs to see a character wrestling with God and not getting easy answers. Who needs to know that you can be broken and beloved at the same time.

Write for that kid.

And when you get discouraged—when the rejections pile up or the sales are slow or you wonder if anyone cares—remember: you’re not writing for the market. You’re writing because you’ve tasted truth and you can’t help but pour it into story.

That’s not preaching.

That’s worship.

Merry Christmas!