I am in the process of making final edits on the Landmarks book to be released in March. It’s been amazing to see what I have written in book form for the first time and to edit it for the last time. You would think that I would have learned the lessons in the book by now after working on it for over three years. Well…think again.
Yesterday I really, really struggled with where I am in life right now. There are so many unknowns, so many puzzle pieces missing, so many obstacles. The adventure that started with such flourish when I left full-time high school teaching has descended into some of the dark points in the plot. I wrestled with worry and anxiety over money, I fought off demonic assault while teaching my class at church. But more than anything else, I struggled with the gnawing sense that I wasn’t going anywhere, that I was stuck in oblivion, that others seemed to have large audiences or powerful ministries or deep impact, but I was just a small voice being drowned out.
I am embarrassed to admit how strong my longing is for impact, how deeply I crave after fame, and how jealous I am at times of those who seemed to have “gotten it.” And of course, desire like this turned away from the living God poisons and corrupts us. And so on the drive home from church, I found my heart poisoned and corrupted, stuck in a very bad place.
In those moments, I have learned to cry out for coaching, for the Father to lead me out of the dark places. That’s what happened yesterday. I just expressed my longing for his counsel. And this is what came to me in the truck…
Immediately the fog cleared, the darkness lifted, the path ahead appeared. I had been trying to script my own story again, which included fame, fortune, and a dash of the truth thrown in. It’s what I wrote about in the first chapter of the book! But apparently I needed to relearn the lesson:
Let go. Submit. Let God write the story of my life.
And once we do let go, we see it is the path that actually meets our deepest longings. But only after we let go. Only after we jump. That’s why it’s so hard.