Another rejection letter hit the inbox last week. A popular site for women sent out the woohoo’s and thank you’s on the latest round of submissions. Perhaps you received the polite “thanks for playing,” too. Did your heart sink a little?
As I submit my words for approval and receive rejections (or worse, the rejection of silence), my writer heart sometimes sinks low. I question the validity of my calling. God, did I hear You right when you asked me to tell my story? Finding people to read and respond to my writing is tireless and sometimes discouraging work. In the writing world, we call it “platform building.”
Numbers make a lousy god.
Click-throughs depend on my ability to craft a clever title, select the right font, and match it with an eye-catching image. Page views rely on algorithms and shares. Analytics rise and fall on my talent and marketing skills.
A lot hinges on my ability to be awesome. I’m not willing to carry that kind of burden right now—or ever.
What’s your thing?
Perhaps you don’t aspire to a large platform. Maybe your heart is set on well-behaved children that attest to your amazing parenting skills. You may hang your head in disappointment over your poorly attended Bible study. Perhaps you avoid inviting friends to your modest home because it doesn’t meet the standard of your Pinterest board. Does your paycheck lack the depth to cover your needs and ensure financial security?
We all have that thing. That thing we set on a pedestal and declare it as our symbol of success.
If only had more engaged readers…
If only my children would stay out of the floor at the grocery store…
If only more women wanted to learn about Jesus…
If only I had an updated kitchen and a sofa without jelly stains…
If only I made enough money to save for retirement…
…then I would be content.
…then I would be important.
…then I wouldn’t have to work so hard to be awesome.
It is easy to believe the lie that numbers make us legitimate writers. Or well-behaved children make us good mothers. A standing room only small group does not define your worth as a leader. Posh homes and big paychecks do not reflect your value.You are a writer because God called you to use words to share His message with the world. #amwritingClick To Tweet
You are a writer because God called you to use words to share His message with the world.
You are a mother because God entrusted His children to your care. Are the women in your Bible study there to learn more about you? Should your home and possessions act as a shrine to your success?
I recently spent time in prayer and repentance over the idolatry of analytics. I get tripped up over my own pride when it comes to parenting, leading, homemaking, and earning, too. It’s a dark, personal reality I have to visit from time to time. I sit myself right down on the throne in my heart and look around for signs that I’m worthy.
Numbers make a lousy god. I make a lousy god, too. I don’t have what it takes to sit in that seat. But the One who called me to be a writer, mother, and leader—He is an awesome God.
God calls us to do what we do, whatever that thing is, to make Him known. It all hinges on His ability to be awesome. Let’s let Him carry that burden as we champion His name.God calls us to do what we do, whatever that thing is, to make Him known.Click To Tweet
I am linking up with Suzie Eller this week. She shares powerful thoughts on dreams here.