Confusion, uncertainty, and discouragement plagued my heart as I started my morning. Where is that verse about God being faithful to complete what He calls us to do? I wondered as I opened my Bible. I looked it up, 1Thessalonians 5:24. Desiring to understand better God’s call on my life, I read the whole book of 1 Thessalonians. I discovered the source of my distress resulted from my aspirations.
For the past several years, I’ve aspired to write for publication. My first book is 90ish% complete. I hired a professional editor to work her magic. Now I need to go through the manuscript one last time. Then the work of actual publication begins. I must decide where to publish, acquire ISBNs and copyright, and learn different formatting options—and do all these things well, so I place a professional quality book in the hands of my readers. I want to love them—so many new tricks to learn. Praise God I’m not an old dog!
Astonishment hit me as I read the following passage, “But we urge you, brethren, that you increase more and more (in love); that you also aspire to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business, and to work with your own hands, as we commanded you, that you may walk properly toward those who are outside, and that you may lack nothing.” 1 Thessalonians 4:9-12.
A quiet life? That’s what the Lord wants? Yes. Unfortunately, a writer’s life isn’t as silent as you may think. While writers spend many hours at a keyboard, they also need to market their work. The vocation requires promotion, speaking, and internet presence—all noisy endeavors. Imagine the sound of wooden planks sawn to the correct size. Hammers pounding nail heads to secure the boards in place. Platform building is noisy. These tasks beleaguer most writers.
I needed to process what I just read in my Bible. So—aspiring “to lead a quiet life”—I retreated to the dirt from whence I came. Nothing beats the humble aspiration of weeding and caring for plants. After all, the first good work God assigned to the first man, Adam, was gardening. I find dirt therapy helps my heart. And God values that work as much as the hours I spend pounding keys. So, I tended to my badly damaged azaleas.
A warm week in February stimulated sap flow in my sad-looking bushes. Then a brutal cold snap in March almost killed them. I prayed that the bad weather failed to steal my investment of dollars and sweat. Thankfully God, who is rich in mercy, brought new life from the roots beneath the surface.
My writing goals look a lot like those stunted azaleas. Rough drafts like deadwood branches exceed the flourishing of quality work. “You must write more. You must write better. You must get that website launched. You must find your readers and publish your books,” shouts the voice in my head, my voice, not God’s. The Holy Spirit directed my attention to the new growth on these battered plants.
The roots live. Growth comes from the unseen life below the surface. God’s still small voice whispers peace to those who hear it. I heard it there in my flower bed.
If God wants me to write (and I believe He does), He wants me to do it with a quiet spirit. And not to neglect the other work He appointed to me (supporting my husband and keeping our home). God desires me to work diligently with my hands and depend on the hidden life, my relationship with Him.
Since the Lord set the good work of writing before me, I trust He’s appointed readers for the words I write. My pursuit should not be clamoring for their attention by pounding a platform together. Instead, I should quietly seek to love them well with the words I write and let the Lord direct the silent building of His temple. We are His temple.
In the book of 1 Kings, all the stones used to build the temple in Jerusalem were cut to size in the quarry so that the temple site would be silent with reverence. God erects His temple—His church—today in the same fashion—silently. A battle rages in hearts. Satan strives to keep us in darkness. Yet, light prevails. God saves souls. He grants pardon and peace to former prisoners—to you and me.
Sitting in the mulch, I chose to “let the peace of God rule in my heart” (Galatians 3:15). Just like I trust my little azalea bushes will bloom, I believe through His quiet direction my words will be beautiful and life-giving—in His time—not mine. The Lord makes all things beautiful in His time (Ecclesiastes 3:11).
To what do you aspire today? If you feel rattled or restless, maybe it’s because you’re aspiring to something less than a quiet life of love.
