With my latest book on the top of the priority list, I’ve been geeking out on getting my book launch plans and marketing machine pulled together. “Geeking out” is what I do when I’m so into something new, I don’t notice things like a grumbling stomach or a call from my bladder to take some appropriate action. I’ve spent hours over the past few weeks running the same cycle: watch the video, take the notes, build the next piece, watch the video, take the notes, build the next piece…and so on and so forth. I love it, except for the constant need for a $100 bucks here and $100 bucks there. The money is for the raw materials one needs to build each new part of the machine. It’s like doing a remodel where you have a vision and then you get into it and realize how much more there is to it than you thought.
Since I got my bionic hip, I’ve been feeling good…too good. I say “too good” because once again I don’t know when to stop. Actually, I can’t stop. The addiction to mowing down every to-do list in sight has resurfaced and, as before, the addiction’s appetite is insatiable. I always assumed that I, like Jacob, will change because I will have learned my lesson. He did, you know. Jacob wrestled God, got his blessing, and then lived his life differently than he had before his midnight match with the Almighty. Not me. I’m slipping back. The race against time is on!
Maybe this has something to do with the time I was in elementary school, about third grade, when the teacher announced that I had not only finished the IQ test before anyone else, but I also scored the highest of all the schools’ students enrolled in the third grade. I mean really, don’t you think that’s a lot of pressure to put on a kid? Anyway, it got into me. Anything having to do with beating the clock or being the first to finish then became and now remains a powerful personal trigger.
This current mad rush makes no sense. I’m not beholden to any boss or client, so that’s not it. It’s not like people will stop reading books just when I decide to release Rescuing Christina. That’s not it either. It could be the money. Oh yeah. The longer I’m not making any money as a writer, the more often I wonder whether this writing gig is something God had in mind. But that’s just me. I always said I wasn’t doing it for the money. That’s still true. I just didn’t know how much it was going to cost. At least I’ve stopped shopping for clothes.
You see the problem right? Let’s break it down.
First, God did have this in Mind. No doubt. For me to question Him on this topic is not only an affront to His integrity, but it’s impossible. He’s gotten so far through the layers of my old psyche, stripping and tossing the remnants as He drills ever deeper, I can only laugh at the thought. The idea that God didn’t have this in Mind is preposterous.
Second, God has always provided for our needs. He’s never asked me to do anything where He didn’t also clear the path for me to do it. No, it’s not like I haven’t run into roadblocks before. I’ve taken a wrong path many times. I’m just getting better at recognizing it sooner and turning around.
Third, what is this “race against time” thing? Really, we live in eternity. What’s the point of trying to race against time when at the end of the day (no pun intended), the plan will go on according to God’s schedule? Do I think that asking God to expedite things against His better-than-mine judgment is wise? Uh…no.
My husband says that a lot of men worry about leaving a legacy. I suppose that goes for a lot of women too. My question is whether legacy matters. Sure, it’s good to contribute, treat people with kindness, share the Gospel, help the disenfranchised, give of time and money, and take actions in love. But we’re not going to stop being that kind of person when we die. We’ll just move into the next room. And whatever we leave behind in the temporal will be a result of yielding to God on things like the what, when, how, where, etc. of our life, and Him working all things together for good in spite of our missteps. So feeling the need to leave some sort of legacy isn’t the problem either.
So, what’s the problem?
I guess I would feel bad if I discovered that leading my family through a difficult downsizing of our life, including leaving my former professional life behind, turns out to be for nothing.
“There’s no “for nothing” in My Kingdom.”
Alrightee. Back to it.