Beware the lie your writing doesn't matter. Here's why.
I’ve wanted to publish a book since I could write my name. As a pre-teen scribbling Newsies fan fiction, as a teenager imagining the final book to the Harry Potter series, as a college student pursuing a journalism degree, as an adult squeezing in time between toddler tantrums and meal planning, the dream of publication has never left.
I’ve even told friends that if I don’t publish a book before I die, I’d feel like a failure.
I’ve come close throughout the years: publications in magazines and newspapers and on a few blogs. I’m grateful for those opportunities, but they aren’t a book.
This slippery dream keeps sliding out of my hands.
One of my motivations in starting this business wasn’t entirely altruistic. I wanted to dive into the writing world so I could stay motivated, figure out how to make a book possible, discover why I kept self-sabotaging myself.
(I preach all the time about how writing is service, but a fun surprise is you often benefit from serving.)
I’ve learned a lot of answers to these questions. But I’ve also emerged with a surprising discovery.
I’ve started to see beauty outside of publication. Maybe writing is about something so much more.
Maybe, writing is sanctification.
Sitting down to write, on days I really don’t want to, has developed endurance in me.
Writing words that I’m not sure are even any good has grown thicker skin.
Exposing my ideas and dreams has deepened my dependence on God, not people’s approval.
Journaling out my thoughts and emotions has shown me God’s hand in life’s details.
Processing ideas in front of a public audience has revealed clarity on my life and ministry.
Growing in skill and knowledge as a writer has cultivated the gifts God’s granted me.
Confronting unhelpful thought patterns has freed me from shame God never put on me.
Acknowledging my God-given desires has reminded me that not only do I matter, but so do my fellow writers.
Ultimately, writing shapes me into the woman I want to be–one with a humble confidence to do God’s work with freedom and joy!
Publishing will never hand me that kind of satisfaction. Only obedience to a God who loves me will.
This evolution hasn’t evaporated my publishing dreams. I will still pursue them and continue to encourage my writers to do the same.
But on the days when I prop up that publishing goal as an idol, I’ll remember this: Writing is more than publishing. Writing is forming me into the woman I want to be.