I think so much about finding my voice. Resonating with others. Getting my tribe. Maybe even getting a book deal. Oh, to be a full time writer. That would be magical, I say to myself. And I think this is the end, the goal, the dream.
But is it?
What will happen once I do all these things, if I do them all? So I have adoring fans. I have the ability to be a full time writer. I have a platform. What then? What will I do after this? Is the goal really the platform, or is there more?
I realize that I have once again fallen prey to the lie that says the goal is the platform for the platform’s sake. This is not true. It has never been true. It will never be true. At least not for me.
I write from my heart to capture the attention of others. Once I have their attention, my task is not over. Indeed, it’s only begun. Now comes the real work. The pouring into their lives hope and joy and a deeper understanding of God and why this world is so busted and how God is still good even when He seems absent and how come people feel better about saying God allows evil instead of causing it.
This is the real work. The platform is what it has always been. A hunk of wood or perhaps plastic or metal to stand upon to say something that matters. For a moment, I was so busy being a carpenter I forgot I am really a writer. Now back to crafting some words that count
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