"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up" (Galatians 6:9, NIV).
I left my stable teaching job just over a year ago to pursue full-time writing. I had felt this calling since I was 14, but fear swept over me now that I was finally in a place to do so.
How would I make it?
What if something happened to my husband?
What if I failed?
What if I heard God wrong?
But the more the questions resounded, the louder another voice pushed through:
Leaving what you've always known is scary, but what's more frightening is staying where you are when you know you're called to go.
As I look back over this year, I see mountain tops and valleys. I won a considerable writing conference award and signed with an agent. But I was also rejected by 15 traditional publishers for not having a large enough platform. I grew my blog, email list, and social significantly, but I also hosted virtual events and had little to no one show up. I learned how to hone my craft to become a clear and concise writer, but I also lost some of my joy and spontaneity in the process.
The path to becoming an author hasn't been easy. I've shed many tears and prayed more prayers than I can count. Recently, I've been feeling weary. Weary enough to give up, throw in the towel, and forsake this calling altogether. Even despite the victories, I've felt confused and lost. Voices of discouragement have snuck back in and haunted me in more ways than I can describe. And yet, the more I pray, the more I am reminded of Galatians 6:9. To not grow weary of doing good. To press on when times get tough. To hang in there. To know and fully understand that God will bring glory for this, no matter what happens.
I've also sensed the Holy Spirit's nudge in three places. Maybe you'll be able to relate.
It is not a coincidence that the very season I feel weary is where things are planted and bloom. Like a farmer with their crops, I've realized that God has called me to work hard. I'm called to plant the seeds. I'm called to water the seeds. I'm called to listen to the promptings of the Holy Spirit, following wherever He leads, no matter the cost. But at the end of the day, God is the one who makes the seed grow. God is the one who will get the credit and glory. The growth is on God's shoulders of responsibility and not mine. Why is this encouraging?
Every year, farmers plant hundreds of thousands of crops. They can't control the weather, bugs, and unprecedented conditions that often come their way. But they can grow. They can fertilize the soil. They can water. They can do what they can to help the seedlings produce crops. But ultimately, they leave the rest in God's hands. Droughts may come. So many storms of tornadoes or locusts threatened to destroy the crops they had worked so hard to harvest. And yet, they don't worry. God wants the same for our lives and callings.
We aren't called to know all the answers or make everything happen (newsflash, we aren't that powerful). We're called to listen and obey. 1 Corinthians 3:5-9 says, "What, after all, is Apollos? And what is Paul? Only servants, through whom you came to believe, as the Lord has assigned to each his task. I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow. So neither the one who plants nor waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. The one who plants and the one who waters have one purpose and will each be rewarded according to their own labor. For we are co-workers in God’s service; you are God’s field, God’s building" (NIV).
Please meditate on these verses if you're feeling discouraged in your calling today. Stay faithful. Stay steadfast. But remember that those who sow generously will reap generously, just as those who sow sparingly will reap sparingly (2 Corinthians 9:6).
Perhaps more than any other lesson I've learned this year, holding open hands is the most difficult. It requires a deep understanding and surrender of the fact that we're not in control.
As an author, I can control many things. I control what gets posted on my social media, the blog posts I write about, and the content covered on my podcast. But I can't control how many people follow me or join my email list. I can work on marketing and learn best practices to implement, but I must hold each of these things with open hands.
Holding our calling with open hands means we've given God our deepest dreams and desires. We're pursuing His calling for us, but are open to His leading and changing the plan.
Today, I'm waiting to hear back from a Pub Board Meeting. Though it's been rejected by 15 other publishers, my book proposal has made it to the final stage with one publisher. If they say "yes," I will receive a traditional contract offer. If they say "no," it's back to the drawing board for me. Talk about holding something with open hands.
This season has been one of letting go, of allowing God to give and take away. And yet, I'm confident that He who began a good work in me will see it through to completion. I don't know all the answers. I often can't see the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. But I know that His plans for me are good and better than anything I could ever have in store (Romans 8:28, Ephesians 3:20, Psalm 138:8).
I don't know what's going to happen at this meeting, but I know that God's will will prevail, and I trust Him. Whether I publish one book, a dozen, or none, He knows best. Having open hands isn't easy. It's an act of faith, but I'm learning to practice it every day.
Maybe like me, you've grown weary in your calling. You're tired of doing good and getting nothing in return. Perhaps you're even ready to throw in the towel. But friend, you're not alone in these feelings; God cares about you.
We're called to have hopeful expectations, not because God gives us what we want, but because He gives us what we need.
As I've been praying and seeking God on my calling as an author, I've also sensed a leading to Christian Mental Health Counseling. I don't know what it means or what that will look like. I don't know if He's asking me to pursue a Master's or gently reminding me that my book on mental health is indeed the right field He wants me to focus on. Nevertheless, I've been meditating on Psalm 5 and encourage you to do the same.
Verses 1-3 read this way: "Listen to my words, Lord, consider my lament. Hear my cry for help, my King and my God, for to you I pray. In the morning, Lord, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait expectantly" (Psalms 5:1-3, NIV).
David faced many adversaries in his lifetime, even his son Absalom. And yet, in times of deep distress, anguish, confusion, and despair, David begs God to listen to his cries even before the prayer is answered. Even before the call is confirmed. David chooses to bring his request before the Lord and wait expectantly. Hopefully expectant. Notes: "Do we not miss much of the sweetness and efficacy of prayer by a want of careful meditation before it, and of hopeful expectation after it? Let holy preparation link hands with patient expectation, and we shall have far larger answers to our prayers.”
If you've grown weary today, please know you're not alone. I'm right here with you. Waiting, praying, seeking answers in dark and foreign places. But together, we can rest in the confidence of the Lord. Not just that He hears our prayers, but that He answers them in ways that far surpass our human understanding. And even when we don't understand, we're called to trust Him. To not grow weary of doing good. In the end, we will reap His harvest for us. And all of this? The pain, the confusion, the not-knowing? It'll be worth it.
Photo Credit: ©iStock/Getty Images Plus/Drazen Zigic