Are You Listening to What Matters?

Following good advice without understanding why that advice is helpful can hurt your writing. It can prevent you from following where the story goes, make you second-guess yourself, or steal opportunities for compelling scenes right out of your hands. Learn the rules and understand why they’re there, and then you can break them with skill to achieve the effect you want. — Janice Hardy

Writers are surrounded by voices. Some come from readers. Some come from editors, publishers, social media, writing groups, bestselling authors, marketing experts, family members, critics, and friends. Then there is the persistent voice inside our own heads, telling us what we should accomplish next.

With that much noise, clarity becomes essential.

Clarity Is More Than Hearing a Voice

For the Christian writer, clarity isn’t merely knowing what book to write, which project to finish, or which publishing opportunity to pursue. It’s learning to recognize what deserves our attention, what should be ignored, and what God may be asking of us right now. Instead of asking, What should I write next? our greatest question might be, What deserves my attention?

Sometimes we talk about hearing God as though we should expect detailed instructions for every decision. Write this book. Call that publisher. Attend this conference. Post this article. Take that opportunity. Decline that one. Sure, God may give unmistakable direction. But much of our life isn’t lived by receiving moment-by-moment instructions. It’s lived by becoming the kind of person whose thinking, desires, and choices increasingly reflect the character of Christ.

Don’t follow what society says is right. To experience God and have the highest feeling of self-worth, and to live life to its fullest, your thinking must drastically change. Instead of centering your desires upon yourselves, satisfy the good and perfect will of God by seeking to help others. — Romans 12:2

Notice that transformation changes how we think. The closer we walk with God, the more naturally our decisions should reflect what pleases him.

A mature writer shouldn’t need a dramatic revelation before deciding whether to encourage rather than humiliate, tell the truth rather than exaggerate, serve rather than manipulate, or write something worthwhile rather than what seems most profitable.

Silence Doesn’t Mean You Are Lost

Every writer eventually faces seasons when direction seems uncertain. You might have three possible books to write and no strong sense of which one should come first. Will you pursue traditional publishing or publish independently? Many will finish a manuscript and have no idea what to do next.

So you pray and receive no unmistakable answer. What then? Do the best you know to do.

If you don’t know the truth or how to apply it, then ask God, because he’s eager to help and won’t make you feel stupid. — James 1:5

Asking for wisdom doesn’t mean refusing to act until we receive supernatural certainty. It simply says God knows what he’s doing, and we don’t. So we need his help in following his direction.

Imagine driving through heavy fog. You may not see ten miles down the road, but your headlights will reveal enough pavement ahead to keep moving. Slowly and cautiously.

God habitually gives enough light for the next step rather than illuminating our entire journey. While we may want a five-year plan, God may simply be saying, “Write today.”

Beware of the Squeaky Wheel

One of the greatest enemies of meaningful writing is urgency.

• The email seems urgent.

• The notification seems urgent.

• The social-media comment seems urgent.

• The unfinished website seems urgent.

• The new book idea seems urgent.

• The person wanting “just five minutes” seems urgent.

But urgent and important aren’t synonyms. Jesus experienced constant demands from people, yet he didn’t allow every demand to determine his schedule (Mark 1:35). People were looking for him. Needs were waiting. Yet Jesus withdrew.

We must learn the same discipline. The squeaky wheel may need oil. It may also need to be ignored. Sometimes the loudest demand in your life deserves five minutes while the quietest calling deserves five years.

Not Every Good Idea Is Your Assignment

Creative people suffer from an unusual problem: too many possibilities. We can easily imagine another book, another article, another class, another website, another podcast, another ministry, another marketing strategy, or another audience. Those ideas may be excellent. That doesn’t mean we should pursue them.

We are God’s creative masterpiece, brought to life in Jesus Christ so we can do the great work he designed for us in the beginning. — Ephesians 2:10

Notice that Paul said our mission was “the great work,” not “all the good work we can think of.” There are countless worthwhile things you could do. Your responsibility isn’t to accomplish everything worthwhile. It’s to faithfully pursue what has been entrusted to you.

Writers who try to chase every worthwhile opportunity eventually give every important project only partial attention. Sometimes listening to what matters means saying yes. Quite often, it means saying no.

Productivity Can Become a False God

Writers love measurable progress. Words written. Books published. Copies sold. Subscribers gained. Speaking engagements booked. Website visits. Reviews. Social-media followers. None of those things is necessarily wrong. They can even be useful measurements. But measurements make terrible masters.

[Jesus said,] “What have you gained if you own the whole world but lose your life?” — Mark 8:36

We might adapt that question for writers: What good is building an impressive celebrity platform while becoming spiritually empty? Productivity is useful when it serves purpose. It becomes dangerous when productivity itself becomes the purpose.

God may occasionally lead you toward something that looks terribly inefficient. A conversation. A struggling writer. A small audience. A book that won’t sell many copies. A project requiring years instead of weeks.

The kingdom of God doesn’t measure success with an Amazon ranking. Faithfulness has always been measured differently.

Hold Your Plans with Open Hands

Planning is useful. Worshiping the plan is not. We all need some sense of direction. Without it, projects remain unfinished, and ideas never become manuscripts. But our plans should always be written in pencil.

• You may begin writing one book and discover another manuscript needs your attention.

• You may pursue one publishing path and discover a better one.

• You may think your ministry will develop one way and find God opening doors somewhere completely unexpected.

Clarity includes the willingness to be redirected.

A GPS doesn’t become angry when you miss a turn. It simply recalculates. We could learn something from that. We might mourn a closed door as if our journey has ended. But perhaps God is simply recalculating our route.

Ask a Better Question

Writers naturally ask:

• What should I write?

• What should I publish?

• What should I promote?

• What should I do next?

Those are legitimate questions. But there is a deeper one: What would most please God?

Jesus said, “I do nothing on my own initiative. I say only what the Father instructs me to say. The one who sent me is with me. Because I always do what pleases him, he has never left me on my own.” — John 8:28–29

That statement provides a remarkable model for Christian creativity. What if our ambition became that simple? Not: Lord, bless my book, grow my audience, make my ministry successful, or make people recognize my work. Instead: Lord, help me participate in what you are already doing.

That changes writing from a personal enterprise into stewardship.

• The manuscript is no longer merely our project.

• The talent is no longer merely our talent.

• The opportunity is no longer merely our opportunity.

Everything becomes something placed temporarily into our hands.

Clarity Is an Ongoing Process

We sometimes imagine clarity as a moment. Suddenly everything becomes obvious. Occasionally that happens. More often, clarity is a process: Desire. Listen. Act. Observe. Adjust. Continue.

We might paraphrase Psalm 119:105 as a Scripture for Writers as “God’s word is a lamp that lights my writing journey.” A lamp illuminates the ground immediately ahead. It doesn’t usually illuminate the entire journey. Why is that important? If we could see the whole journey, we might trust the map instead of the Guide.

Peace Doesn’t Require the Outcome You Wanted

Perhaps the greatest test of clarity comes when we believe we have done the right thing and the results disappoint us. The manuscript is rejected. The book barely sells. The event is poorly attended. The opportunity disappears. The person we hoped to help refuses to listen. Was our decision wrong? Not necessarily.

Jesus obeyed perfectly and was still rejected. Paul followed God’s calling and encountered prison, beatings, opposition, and hardship. Faithfulness doesn’t guarantee the outcome we would choose.

Following God’s direction brings a different kind of peace. We can say, I sought God, I listened, I acted according to my best understanding, I remained willing to change direction, I tried to do what pleased him. Now the results belong to God.

Writers plant many seeds. Some grow immediately. Some appear years later. Some will produce fruit we may never live long enough to see.

Write from Surrender

Perhaps the greatest freedom a Christian writer can discover is surrender. Not passivity. Not laziness. Not abandoning excellence. Surrender means working diligently while refusing to demand a particular outcome.

We write the best words we can. We learn. We revise. We listen. We serve readers. We pursue opportunities. But underneath all that activity remains a simple prayer: Lord, don’t merely help me accomplish my plans. Help me recognize and participate in yours.

We may not always know what happens next. We may not always understand why a door opened or closed. We may occasionally discover that something we considered important was merely another squeaky wheel demanding attention. But if we continually seek God’s presence, listen for his direction, act faithfully on what we understand, and remain willing to be redirected, we can move forward without fear.

The goal isn’t perfect certainty. The goal is faithful closeness. And perhaps the most important question a writer can ask at the end of the day is not: How much did I accomplish? But: Did I give my attention to what mattered most?

For a practical guide to storytelling, check out Storytelling at Its Best

Story Power Hour with Frank Ball on third Mondays at 5:30 p.m.

$16.20 on Amazon