God-given destiny doesn’t bring glory to me, it brings glory to God.
It’s so easy to get caught up in pursuing our big dreams, our passions, our calling, imagining the success that awaits us when we finally arrive. But what about pursuing our heavenly Father? What about seeking His face above all else? What about building HIS kingdom, here on earth, as it is in heaven?
This is something I’ve struggled with for a long time. When I first starting writing my book “Dream Big”, I genuinely believed that God had a big dream for my life and when it finally came to fruition it would bring me success and maybe even a little bit of recognition and approval. Even writing those words now, they sound off – they sound selfish.
And then with my most recent project “We Will Wait”, I had vain imaginings that the thing would take off and sell hundreds of copies in mere days. Why wouldn’t it? It was a truly God-given idea, so why wouldn’t He make it succeed? He’s done it for others. Look at Ann Voscamp, for example. She was inspired by God to write “1000 Gifts” and it spread like wildfire! I can barely talk to any Christian woman these days who doesn’t know Ann’s name and her book. I’m sure she would say its all God, but why does God bring that kind of success for some and not for others? Why do I pour my heart into writing an advent devotional only to have a few dozen copies sell?
Usually I don’t share these kinds of questions with others. Why? Because it reveals the true state of my heart – rebellious, selfish, doubting. But our pastor encouraged us a few weeks back, saying we should take time to let our head and heart talk. To really ask those tough questions that we know the right answer for in our heads, but don’t truly believe in our hearts. So I’ve been doing that. And it’s been uncomfortable and a wee bit frustrating.
And to be honest, I don’t know if my heart is there yet. My head knows obedience is more important than success. My head knows if one person is changed its worth it. My head knows a lot. But my heart, oh my heart – it struggles. It wrestles. It feels unsettled.
So I have no lovely bow with which to tie this package up neatly. I leave this one open, messy, waiting.