Writing a book was easy…

because Ithought getting my book published meant I had crossed the finish line and won the gold medal.

I thought as I worked on the 5th draft in 7 years, “My book is good now; I can feel it.” And others read it and said, “This is it!” A publisher agreed, and I introduced my book, Less Than a Widow, to the world in the fall of 2015.

At least, I thought I did. My publisher changed selling policies without informing authors, and the result was that, within a month of publication, my book was unavailable to anyone who tried to purchase it. It took me a year to find out why no one was buying my book. I had come to the conclusion that maybe I just wasn’t a good enough writer.

I was an Olympic athlete who had just run the biggest race of my life. I’d trained innumerable hours, had the right shoes, the right track, and my lucky hair ribbon. I’d been well-coached, well-practiced, and knew how to run the race and make it to the finish line. Except it wasn’t really the finish line. I was back in the starting blocks after the starting gun had already gone off, and all the other racers were already sprinting. I felt like I’d never run a step in my life. All my work was for nothing.

I had retired early, intent on writing a series of books on the women listed in the lineage of Jesus. “I’m doing this for you, God.” Except, I wanted everyone to like it, to buy the first one and wait eagerly for the second, the third, the fourth, and the fifth. I would be the writer of a series, a known author, getting a small but affirming stipend from my work.

In my quiet time, I asked: “How much of ME was I holding onto in my offering to you, God? Was it for you or for me?”

And doors opened with writing opportunities I wasn’t looking for, but were just what I needed. I worked on writing Discover Your Bible studies on 1 and 2 Peter, 1 Corinthians, and Ruth. That took some deep diving into the Word day after day—and in my mind during wakeful nights.

The Word was ON my mind and ON my heart all the time. And as my heart cracked with disappointment, frustration, anger, and self-doubt, what was sitting on my heart seeped INTO my heart.

And I began asking, “God what do you have for me? What purpose is my writing supposed to serve in your agenda?”

Other projects fell in my lap, and I started a partnership with my brother.

I’m still writing daily. I have multiple projects I’m always involved in. And I write in a coffee shop, at a booth, with an open and inviting bench across from me for anyone who needs a listening ear.

I’m working on my craft so that I can offer the best that I have. And I am content.