Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
Making room for much needed rest
Recently, I experienced disappointment that gave me a profound change of heart, that prompted a turning point. It took the air out of me, it conjured up bitter tears and made me question my calling as a writer, made me wonder about the direction the Lord is leading me into. He’s uncovered the masks within the publishing industry (general and Christian market) and I’m ever thankful for that.
I spent some time with my husband, took a walk in our neighborhood, listened to his wisdom, and was comforted. We did a deep dive into the trajectory of my writing life, how God continues to show us what it looks like to shine like gold for His glory in truth, how distinct this is from what we’re actually seeing from those who proclaim His name while tarnishing the truth.
I’m becoming more and more aware of that distinction. It’s no wonder, then, as I think about it, that there is a reason why I don’t immediately say yes (or say no) to opportunities that come. I’ve declined to participate in several projects, and now I am finding out why. I need time to think, to join all my thoughts to His, to remember how He prepares every part of my life for His glory. I want to be obedient.
I took a pause after the MFA to build a nest. I was in a long-distance courtship with my husband, I was working as an adjunct lecturer in a college and local university, and then I married.
“Dreams burn, but in ashes are gold.”
Children, switching careers to start a consulting business in curriculum design and development, settling in and then departing from two churches, learning new skills—all took precedence. In hindsight, I may have thought that my writing had gone as far as it needed to because it required complete absorption. By the grace of God, I was willing to put it behind me.
“What we build together is better than the sum of two.”
After that decade-long pause, I returned to the drawing board more intentionally. After several years like this, I found the writing process to be like a field of tumbleweed—drained, destitute. Abandoned. Forgotten.
The purpose of life is to glorify God and love Him and trust Him and be with Him forever.
How can the mind rest when it is vexed by what the eyes see?
How can peace flourish when there is a raid in the heart?
“And it came to pass the same night, that the LORD said unto him, Take thy father’s young bullock, even the second bullock of seven years old, and throw down the altar of Baal that thy father hath, and cut down the grove that is by it:” Judges 6:25
I thirst in this desolation.
I’ve seen perceived Christianity in the publishing industry bow to the idol of Baal, sacrificing the truth on the altar of mercy, on the altar of political correctness.
But not my house.
I will not fall prey to the deception that dupes believers into subscribing to the philosophies of man. It’s crucial to ask ourselves the discerning question of whether God would have anything to do with our cause, with the subject matter of our work, with the people and places we align ourselves with. If He wouldn’t, why would we? If He condemns something, why do we accept it?
“Do I need to drink poison to know it’s poison?”
No, a full stop to renew and refresh with great expectation beyond what I can fathom; to meet with my neighbors, to look to the least of these within my sphere of influence. To honor the needs of my children and knit their hearts for the Lord.