As I walked the cul-de-sac, looking at the stars and listening to DIY MFA Radio, Gabriela Pereira interviewed author and book coach Jennie Nash. They were speaking of that moment when a creator’s brilliant idea hits the road, a shaky moment that can be gritty, ugly, and downright scary. It’s that moment when you realize your own insignificance, and the next moment brings with it a weighty choice: give up or push through the ugly, scary grit to bring that brilliance to life.
“Nobody’s asking you to write this book,” Jennie said. “Who are you to think, ‘I can do this, I can spend my time and energy on this planet doing this thing?'”
Her statement stopped me in my tracks. I felt small. Insignificant. Who am I? Who needs me? No one, at least no one I know yet. It’s that word yet – that hope of purpose – that keeps me pushing. I can do this. I really can.
I will do this.
But Jennie’s statement carried with it eternal weight.
Time? Energy? My brief life on this planet?
My mind quickly evaluated what I do with my time each day. Then, the familiar wave of urgency washed over me.
We are but brief candles that burn out as quickly as we spark. Apart from Christ, the flame is lifeless. Dead. With Christ, we outlive our earthly sparks, and everything carries eternal value. The housework, the fellowship with friends, the chasing down of dreams, the relationships with loved ones. Christ gives value to it all. He is our hope of purpose. Apart from Him, our purpose is earthly. Temporary. Destined to burn out, cold.
“Nobody’s asking you to do anything.” To hear that can rally the faintest dreamers. Though you can push through and make things happen, will it matter?