Our pastor asked a profound question at the beginning of his sermon the other week: Do you have enough faith for obscurity? Do you have the faith to be faithful even when no one notices? Even if you’re not asked to tell your story or share your thoughts about anything? What if you’re just called to be faithful in the back row?

Go Write that Book

I thought I was okay with being unseen. Turns out, though, my faith for obscurity was pretty solidly set in its ending. When I was in the process of finishing my degree last year, my father passed away on the other side of the country. In the last days of his life, my sister and I were leaving the nursing home and the maintenance man walked us to the elevator. He had been checking in on us throughout the day to make sure we were comfortable, bringing us water and whatever we needed. As we said goodbye and stepped into the elevator, he called out, “Go write that book!” I stopped in my tracks and turned around. “What did you say?” I asked, incredulous. See, my heart’s desire since childhood has been to write a book but I could never settle on a topic. “I said, Go write that book,” he repeated. “Where did that come from?” I asked, stepping out of the elevator. He pointed upward and said, “Sometimes He just tells me things.” I was reeling as I drove away, my mind racing with possibilities: book deals, speaking gigs, royalty checks. 

Fast forward a year and a half. I am surrounded by the first paragraphs of a hundred books. One day I’m sure this is the topic of my book, the next day I toss it aside in frustration, acknowledging I am an expert in nothing. Until this Sunday and my pastor mentions having faith in the midst of obscurity. That I might be an expert in. At least the obscure part. My whole life has been a lesson in hiddenness. Not that I have piously desired to just serve and never be noticed for it. Not at all. Truth be told, my attitude has often been, “What does a girl need to do to get some recognition around here?”

My Glory or His?

But God has a way of pointing to his Son and bringing my applause-loving self back to the reality of who I am called to bring attention to. 2 Corinthians 4:5 says, “For what we preach is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake.” He must become more; I must become less (John 3:30). He made Himself nothing, so who am I to desire, even feel entitled to, the spotlight? Am I willing to never be recognized as a faithful follower of Christ? Is it enough that Jesus knows who I am and that I am His?

We live in a culture of influencers. We build platforms, grow our followers and our email lists, all for the purpose of building our brand; cultivating and curating our image. But is our image anything more than an idol to self? I think it’s a fine line, but for me God has been steering me back to the secret place, growing the part of me that no one sees but Him. He keeps impressing on me the absolute necessity of not seeking glory for myself, constantly correcting any self-promotion that tries to rear its ugly head in my heart.

Even blogging has been a balancing act of starts, stops, dead-ends and learning to be okay with writing for obedience, not applause. This lesson must be vitally important if God has been hammering it home for 30 years. Or maybe I’m just a slow learner or possibly dying to self is harder than it looks. I read a quote in the book, Anonymous, by Alicia Britt Chole, that speaks to where I’m at: “In spiritual winters, our fullness is thinned so that, undistracted by our giftings, we can focus upon our character. In the absence of anything to measure, we are left with nothing to stare at except for our foundation.” (2006). 

A Solid Foundation

When all superfluous activity is stripped away, we can begin to take stock of who we are; when it’s me and a quiet room and nothing to prop myself up on. When the word of God begins to penetrate the frosty layer of my heart, showing me where I have allowed myself to become cold and jaded. My foundation has always been God’s priority because, like the foolish man building on sand, if the foundation of my character is built on using God to promote myself, it will be too shaky to support me if I find myself in the spotlight. We’ve all seen people collapse under the weight of fame and fortune because the visible platform grew faster than the invisible structure needed to support it.

Finding Gratitude in the Hidden Season

God is teaching me not to despise this hidden season but to be grateful for it. The lessons learned in the secret place are priceless and I am realizing that God’s economy is not mine. Right now I have no great job to list when people ask me, “What are you doing now?” I have no great accomplishments to point to, no claim to fame or great talents for anyone to admire. But I’m learning to obey in little ways and to heed God’s voice when He brings people into my life one at a time. Maybe this is what He wants me to learn: That this life is not about me making my mark and creating a name and a platform for myself, but allowing Jesus to make His mark on the world using me; That we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us (2 Cor. 4:7). Maybe I will get past the first paragraph one of these times and a book will take shape, but if the only book of mine that people read is my life lived out before them, I hope it represents Jesus well and makes Him famous because His character is incorruptible and can handle a little fame!