On September 20, I arrived at my first American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) Conference in Grapevine, TX, and it was everything I hoped for and more. I learned so much from my sessions, reunited with old friends, made new friends I’ll treasure for a lifetime, and even got to meet my mentor of 18 years in person for the first time. The whole experience was life changing and euphoric.
Leading up to the conference, my anxiety had kicked into overdrive over the looming pitch sessions. The idea of discussing my book for 15 minutes straight with literary agents and acquisitions editors I’ve followed and admired for months was daunting, to say the least. Usually, though not always, writers write because written expression comes more naturally than verbal expression. I…er…um…yeah. That’s me. Again and again, I heard the advice, “Don’t be nervous.” I know, I know. The pitch sessions aren’t life or death, and we shouldn’t put so much stock in them. Excellent, truthful advice. Still not sure how to train my brain to follow it, though. Alas, I’m a work in progress, much like my manuscript.
Thinking back to the actual appointments…they’re a bit hazy, but the happy, dreamy kind of hazy. I can’t exactly remember what I said, how much I stuck to my memorized pitch, how much I came up with on the fly, or how much I messed up. I’m just resting in the knowledge that I did my best, and that the wonderful professionals I met with accepted me, smiled at me, and didn’t melt into puddles of sad disappointment because of my imperfections. By the grace of God, all four of my appointments were positive experiences, despite my low self-esteem and negative self-talk.
Speaking of God’s grace, the conference opened my eyes to it all over again. I was blessed to have a prayer appointment with the amazing Brandilyn Collins. As we prayed, I cried, wanting so much to let go of everything I gripped so tightly in my life and give it to God. I realized God wants me to release all the fear, pain, and negativity trapped not just in my mind but in my body, and I believe He’s working to heal me, evidenced by Brandilyn’s guided touch to exact places I’ve had chronic pain. I also believe He wants the smile I wear on the outside to shine on the inside as well, as He led Brandilyn to say. As you read this blog, whatever your beliefs are, please know that I absolutely love, respect, and accept you, exactly as you are, and I hope you’ll do the same for me, but it’s okay if you don’t. I just want to express that for me, in that hushed, dimly lit prayer room, I experienced a moment of childlike faith, free of the doubt that so often plagues me. I believe with all my heart that God was with me in that moment, letting me know I’m His work in progress. I felt heard, validated, and loved, and that’s the biggest gift of my whole conference experience.
Letting go and letting God isn’t easy, and I have yet to master that skill. I have a recurring nightmare where I’m driving along a treacherous road and unable to control the wheel. The road itself varies. Sometimes it’s surreal with bright red dirt and purple trees, and sometimes it’s a regular highway. Either way, the danger is the same. The road curves, without guardrails, and it’s miles high. I see it now as a representation of my anxiety taking the wheel when I feel overwhelmingly unsafe. In some versions of the nightmare, I swerve off the road precisely because I’m trying not to. In others, it is a careless act, or even a daring one. In all, I’m not putting my trust where it belongs–in God.
The writing journey is a difficult one, fraught with waiting, unknowns, judgment, rejection, and growing pains. I’ve learned from writers ahead of me on the journey that all these hardships are ongoing. Writers at all stages deal with imposter syndrome, fear, and doubt. But I’m not alone on this journey, and neither are you, even if your journey looks a bit different.
While I was on vacation with my husband in Charleston last August, there was a day on the beach I’ll never forget. I stood waist deep in the ocean with my arms stretched in front of me as I braved each crashing wave, imagining it was something in life I struggled with and wanted to conquer. Self-doubt. Self-hate. Anxiety. Depression. Codependency. ADHD. Fibromyalgia. Fear of failure. Fear of worthlessness. Fear of loneliness. Sometimes the wave was too great, and I had to dive under it. Sometimes it was smaller than I expected. Sometimes it knocked me down. But I fought to stay upright, got back up every time I fell backward, and felt…strong. Brave.
Yes, life is hard. Writing is hard. In fact, it’s terrifying. But I’m on this path for a reason. God put this passion in my heart for a reason. I’m not a perfect Christian or human being, and I don’t pretend to be. I don’t even know what that means anymore, because I’ve changed and progressed over the years. I don’t fit into a box or stereotype, and I don’t want to. I’m just…me. And you’re you. And that’s okay. I’m loved, and you’re loved, and we all have a purpose. So whatever it is you’re called but scared to do, just do it scared. Lean into the discomfort and trust that God will catch you when you fall. Because you will fall. We all do. Just get back up. Maybe have some chocolate or take a nap first. The important thing is to keep working on your dreams. Nurture the friendships you make along the way. Do whatever feeds your soul. Help someone who’s behind you on the journey. Learn from someone who’s ahead of you. Do whatever you need to do, as long as you stay in it. Stay on that curvy, frightening road. Let God take the wheel instead of fear. Fear will throw you off the cliff every time. Prayer will keep you on the road and block out the fear of falling.
At my first ACFW Conference, I learned that God is bigger than fear. I can, and will, brave the journey. I believe you will, too.
Shelter for Sensitive Souls 