Just a Hobby

Earlier this month, someone I respect called my writing a hobby. He/She gave a little smile when I tried to clarify it was a calling rather than a hobby, repeating the word “hobby” in response, and I retreated, more hurt than I even realized until later. To have something I’ve worked on tirelessly for hours on end for three years, spent tears and angst and prayers and torment on, reduced to a mere hobby, simply because I didn’t make a lot of money on it and wasn’t likely to, was soul-jarring.

I took a good long time brooding, thinking, doubting myself; knowing that even though I still knew I was doing what God told me to do, it didn’t take away the pain of having someone not understand, but rather brought back all of my self-doubt, all of my wonderings, all of my fear that none of it would ever matter. That I would put myself through all of this and it would never come to anything. That I would never make a decent amount of money, that God would never give me permission to go back to my lucrative career, that I would die a failure, never having proven to those around me that I made the right decision.

And then, finally, God had mercy. Paul flashed through my head. Paul, aka, Saul, who likely gave up one of the most lucrative, successful careers in his time to follow God’s calling. Not only did his peers ridicule him, but even those who were in his new line of work (ministry) took a long time to accept him. And, at least as far as we know, never did he reach what anyone in the world would ever consider successful. No. He spent the rest of his life wandering around countries, trusting God to provide and tell him where to go next, ignoring the criticism of those around him, and ultimately ended his life…not ever being finally, ultimately successful and understood, but martyred.

So who am I, lowly writer that I am, to be upset at the criticism, the lack of understanding of those around me? What if God does call me to write the rest of my life, but to never succeed in the eyes of those around me? To never again make a comfortable living? What if I die, in the world’s eyes, a failure who gave up a soaring career? As long as I followed the Christ who died for me, is that not the ultimate success?

Not to say it will get easier. Not to say that I won’t constantly wonder and ask and pray. But that is good – always seeking, always making sure. But, if, in the end, God does indeed call me to a mediocre writing career on earth, I can be satisfied in the knowledge that, ultimately, I did what the God of the universe called me to do, and the understanding of those around me was not needed to accomplish whatever His will was, even if I never understand it in my lifetime.