If you're met with unrealistic expectations and voices inside your head telling you to work and achieve your worth, I want you to understand and embrace that God doesn't ask such things of us.
I should be excited. It's t-minus three days until Christmas Break, and once we return for the new school year, I only have five months of teaching to go. Yet, my heart is filled with anxiety and turmoil—fear of the unknown. Wild dreams I desire but am scared of becoming reality. This is the state of many restless souls.
Nearly five years ago, I started teaching high school students. Though my journey navigated both private and public school matters, my desires were the same: I would teach to fulfill a teaching grant and then somehow write full-time. Now that it's time for me to make that dream a reality, I feel like my feet are stuck in quicksand. Not because I don't feel that calling anymore, but because I do and I'm scared.
When the Future Seems Scary
The future suddenly seems daunting. Scary. Unknown and full of risks. I'm reminded of Lucy Pevensie in The Chronicles of Narnia when she asks if Aslan is safe:
"Is he-quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion"..."Safe?" said Mr. Beaver ..." Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good."
I think the same can be said about God, our relationship with Him, and our future.
Three years ago, I embarked on a journey through The Author Conservatory. A program that helps individuals from all walks of life become sustainable, effective, and successful author-preneurs.
At the time, I knew I had three years of teaching left to fulfill my grant. The timing was impeccable. My now-husband Ben encouraged me to take a leap of faith. And Brett Harris, the program founder, encouraged me to keep a paradigm shift in mind: not to publish as quickly as possible, but to slow down so that I could make a living out of my dreams.
Over those three years, I switched from a private to a public school, got engaged, married, moved, and started a dance ministry team. With only five months left in my fifth year of teaching, I'm overjoyed. My husband and I are learning to navigate marriage, but more so, we're just beginning to build the lives we see for ourselves in the future—dreams, aspirations, and ambitions included.
Writing full-time is at the top of the list.
When the Future Is Here
Pondering these things, I scheduled a conference call with Brett to discuss how we could make writing full-time a sustainable and realistic future. My husband could join the session, which was a rare occurrence. Grinning from ear to ear, I could almost see the enthusiasm radiating over the Zoom call. This was no longer a dream. No longer a far-fetched idea I would never see come to fruition. It was here. Waiting. Encouraging me to press in, but not as I might have thought or hoped.
From Brett's perspective, after I finish teaching in May, I have three options:
1. Find a part-time job/internship related to my career as an author.
2. Find a part-time job/internship unrelated to my career as an author, but one that frees up time and mental energy to focus on writing.
3. Take a sabbath for a set amount of time, and then focus on writing full-time.
You can probably guess which options are "safe" and which would require more faith and trust in the Lord. You can also probably guess which I need, as opposed to which brings me the most anxiety.
Since Ben and I are now married, Brett and I concluded I don't necessarily need to continue working numerous jobs. The Lord has blessed us, and we will be stable. Once we create a career and financial plan, I'm sure I'll feel better. Nevertheless, his challenge shook my core.
Are You Called to Step Back?
"Amber, any of these options are doable, but you're in a safe place. A place with the opportunity to grow and trust in God, yourself, Ben, and the next steps. While it's good to have a general sense of direction, right now there are going to be a lot of unknowns. We've identified you’ve got to stop teaching—it's choking time and mental energy. Get out at the end of the year. But for now, focus on doing the next right thing. I encourage you to take some time to see what comes up from stepping back. Spend more time resting, praying, writing, and spending time with Ben. Then decide on a part-time job if needed. Take time to heal. For your health and thriving. Then help others walk through it."
While I knew he and my husband were right, I couldn't shake the thoughts. Fears. Anxieties. I ended the call and sat with my mind. And that's when the truth came out: deep under the longings in my heart was an ugly rooted lie I've believed since I was fourteen years old: If I don't work, I'm worthless.
What Lies Do You Believe?
In 2 Thessalonians 3:10, Scripture notes, "For even when we were with you, we gave you this rule: “The one who is unwilling to work shall not eat" (NIV). But I don't think choosing to embark on a different career journey and following that transition is what God would call a "lazy" worker.
From when I started working as a college student to now, I've increasingly become a workaholic. And by workaholic, I mean someone ridden with over-productivity, an addiction to busyness, and an inability to rest. I've bought into the lie that if I enjoy an activity or take a break for five minutes I've suddenly lost an entire iota of strength and time. I've become lazy, worthless, and distracted. Anxiety can play quite the trick on a restless mind. And when you grow up in a family struggling to make ends meet, it's petrifying. It's an overcorrection of trauma to live in both an overly frugal and overtly scarcity mindset. I find it noncoincidental that those words leave scars and wounds. Because even though it's safe now, it doesn't feel like it.
The reality is that I don't know how to rest, let go, and do one job. In college, I worked three jobs at a time. Somehow for the last five years, I've maintained that status. Freelancing, teaching, and writing leave little room to breathe, let alone think. It's as if I'm trying to prove my worth. But to whom? Myself? God? Other people? My spouse?
On the Outside Looking In
On the outside looking in, this way of life is praiseworthy, admirable, and hardworking. It gives the illusion of beauty, and society sings its praises. Even those around me say, "[I] don't know how you do it all," and if I'm honest, I don't know either. But what I do know is that I don't want to do it all anymore. This addiction isn't beautiful, and it certainly isn't healthy. Oftentimes, it isn't even truly productive. It most definitely isn't present.
Don't get me wrong. We are called to work and to work hard. God wants us to be good stewards and messengers of His work. But He rested on the seventh day for us. Who are we to think we don't need it? To think we don't need breaks? To think we should just push and try and pull a little harder?
What's sad is that while embracing my dream of writing full-time will require me to slow down so I can later speed up the process, everything within me screams not to. Not to achieve the dream I've wanted for decades. And why?
Because I'm scared to get out of school.
I'm scared to do something I've never done.
I'm scared to start a new routine.
I'm scared to make a mistake.
I'm scared to embrace God's call, fearing I'll fail Him.
I'm scared this calling is selfish.
I'm scared I've got it all wrong.
I'm scared I won't make it.
I'm scared of the future.
I'm scared of the unknown.
I'm scared to rely on someone beyond myself.
I'm scared to embrace a new season.
I'm scared to go where I've never gone.
I'm scared to not work.
On the Inside Looking Out
I'm not sure who needs to read and hear this post today, but if you're struggling to embrace your dreams for fear of the future, please know you're not alone. If you're met with unrealistic expectations and voices inside your head telling you to work and achieve your worth, I want you to understand and embrace that God doesn't ask such things of us. If you're stuck in the rat race of life, running the hamster wheel that never ends, know it doesn't have to be this way.
As a famous quote I read once said: "Rest will always feel like a risk to a nervous system that is used to chaos, and a mind that believes our value is defined by what we achieve" (Jamie Clements).
Even if I never become a successful author, or end up right where I am, or don't like my new career path, at least I can say I tried. I faced my fears. I attempted to fulfill the calling God had placed within my weary and healing soul.
Why would I allow fear and apprehension to stop me? For if the Word of the Lord has said it and declared it over my life, it will prosper. Exactly when and how He intended it. Sometimes how we thought it would appear, sometimes the direct opposite.
"Though the LORD is on high, He attends to the lowly; but the proud He knows from afar. If I walk in the midst of trouble, You preserve me from the anger of my foes; You extend Your hand, and Your right hand saves me. The LORD will fulfill His purpose for me. O Lord, Your loving devotion endures forever—do not abandon the works of Your hands" (Psalm 138:6-8, Berean Standard Bible).
Agape, Amber
Photo Credit: ©GettyImages/fizkes
