Perhaps we write towards what we will become from where we are.
From "Writing the Sacred Journey," by Elizabeth J. Andrew:
Describe a small, ordinary activity that you've already done today (brushing your teeth, buckling your seatbelt, etc.) Imagine that this event appears in your spiritual memoir. Reflect: What does this activity reveal about you? What mystery does it contain? No subject lacks the potential to reveal the spiritual.
Every spiritual memoir reaches into mystery, attempting to place human life in a broad sacred context. Your task as a writer is not to shy away from the unknown but to interact with it, to stretch your hand forward into the abyss. This is the second distinguishing attribute of spiritual memoir: The writing itself becomes a means for spiritual growth. Often the writer stumbles on this strange occurrence middraft, discovering that the writing itself is an avenue for prayer, a means of wrestling with angels, or a form of contemplation.
Once you experience writing as an agent of spiritual growth, it's possible-indeed, fruitful-to invite growth every time you sit down to write...Many writers say they write to discover what they think. For some of us, the wiring of our brains is such that only the written word can bring clarity. Those who write spiritual memoir write to find out what we believe, or, more fundamentally, what we know to be sacred and true. The rough draft of your spiritual story lays experience out in a manageable fashion.