I think I'm guilty of it. Again.
Of coveting my neighbor's donkey.
I know we've already talked about this, several times, and I trust you and your provisions.
In my defense, I wasn't really looking for any negatives, but they kind of hit me like that; like a slap across the face I was not prepared for.
I guess it comes from comparing myself to others. Maybe I yearned for the same success that they had. Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's how it all started.
The truth is, God, that when I look around, it's easy to feel like a failure.
I'm on no best seller list. My real books haven't been published yet. I still hear more 'nos' than 'yeses.' I write and rewrite until the letters are no longer visible on my computer keyboard. I have goals, some ridiculously high and others low enough to allow me to cross a few things off my list each day. Most days, I wonder if I am doing this correctly.
And constantly, I have to ask myself what areas of my writing do I hear your voice the loudest? Are you blessing these efforts? Am I wasting my time?
And then I hear another success story; someone who fought their way into validation. Legitimacy. Authors and speakers who continued to write and speak long before anyone cared what they had to say.
I guess that's where I am right now.
Still, I hear you beckoning me to go deeper, to keep walking, learning, and writing. To run the next mile of the marathon, even if I have blisters on my feet and my socks are slipping down into my shoes.
They say a professional is simply an amateur who didn't quit.
I want to be that professional.
I want to make you proud.
I want to succeed; but on your terms and timeline. Not my own.
So, forgive me, again, for coveting my neighbor's donkey.
If I measure success by the times I feel your pleasure, then I am successful every time I write.
So I will keep writing. And remembering that whatever it is that I'm supposed to be has not yet been revealed.
I John 3:2 "Dear Friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been revealed."