“…I have called you by name. You are mine…”
Isaiah 43:1
I was next in line. My
heart beat fast. I was about to meet one of my favorite writers, Anne Lamott. I
approached. She glanced at me and then looked down to write her name in my
book.
“Hi Anne, I love your
writing.”
“Thank you.” She completed
her signature. The next person swooped in and I walked off.
She didn’t recognize
me. How dare she not know me? I knew HER.
Fast forward a few
years. I was in line to get the newest cookbook from the Pioneer Woman, Ree
Drummond. My friend Molly had saved my place in line for 3 hours. We approached
the table. My heart beat wildly.
“Hi! I love you and your
cooking!!” Uh-oh. I think I yelled.
She looked at me with a
tiny flash of fear. Was I a stalker? On drugs possibly?
Molly swooped in and
told Ree that she, too, was from Oklahoma. They shared a brief but lovely
conversation while I stood to the side.
The Pioneer Woman didn’t
recognize me. In fact, I think I scared her. J
Last Friday night I was
the author signing copies of my novel, Cecelia
Jackson’s Last Chance. The line was long, not like a famous author, but
definitely thrilling for me. I knew 99% of everyone there, but those I just
met, I made a special effort to greet.
But here is the deal
that really surprised me. As much as I absolutely LOVED Friday night, it won’t
be my “happy” place. I’m in counseling about food obsession and in one exercise
we were asked to envision a place in our minds where we were perfectly happy
and at peace. The first thought that came to mind was my swing outside on my
balcony. Days I’ve sat there and been still have brought me such inner joy.
When I swing there, Jesus is beside me. It’s the perfect place to just be and
regroup and hang out with the Lord.
Fulfilling a life-long
dream of having a book signing with a long line was fantastic. I thank Jesus
for it all. But it’s not my “place.” It’s not where I find the ultimate joy. I
thought it might be, but it wasn’t.
Publishing my first
novel and all this attention that comes with it is temporary. I get that. And maybe
that’s why it took me so long to get here. Maybe God was waiting for me to get
the significance of the swing and the insignificance of the book signing. It’s
the difference between seeking approval from others and finding approval from
the One. He is truly what matters to me more than anything. Don’t get me wrong,
I want all of you to buy several copies of my book and tell me you liked it. J But if you don’t, if no one buys this novel and
it gets buried in a garage sale table, that is okay.
While someone digs
through those books for a quarter each and picks up mine and thinks, “It looks
okay for 25 cents,” I will be sitting on the swing with my Lord. And it will be
enough because He always recognizes me.
He always recognizes you,
too. Find your swing.
