A few months back, I shared with a small group of creatives the not-so-secrets of how to be a happy (or at the very least, happier) creative.

Creatives tend to get a bad rep (both in and out of the church) for being difficult, emotional, unpredictable, and on occasion, a nightmare of pride and/or insecurity to handle. All of which I have been accused of (not unrightfully), so that puts me in an apt position to write this, I guess?

So let’s get started.

1. Take a position of humility before honor.

A man’s heart is the proudest when his downfall is nearest, for he won’t see glory until the Lord sees humility.
 — Proverbs 18:12 TPT

The worst thing you can say whenever anyone is trying to give you feedback or constructive criticism is the two words — “I know”.

Yes, it is true that many (good) creatives tend to have an inflated sense of self-worth (or a very derailed lack of it). Because we know we are good at what we do. We are the get-things-done people. But being good doesn’t make us right. Nor does it endear us to anyone just because we think we know better.

Because if you think you know everything, then no one can teach you anything. Especially young creatives, this is less about your skill or the mastery of your craft, but about your attitude towards others and how you treat them. You’ll find yourself surprised (as you grow), that you can be super talented and super unlikable because no one wants to work with the smartypants know-it-all. (Trust me, I’ve been that person.)

Favor flows to the lowest places. And a creative that is able to entreat and take a journey with people who don’t yet understand, who, even if he/she knows he’s probably right, is able to walk people through the decision-making process till the choice can be owned by the team and not just themselves, will earn honour that cannot come by being the smartest person in the room.

2. Don’t take things personally.

If you listen to constructive criticism, you will be at home among the wise.
—Proverbs 15:31 NLT

Or: How to take feedback well.

Firstly, please remember this: people who don’t care about you, don’t have to put themselves in the uncomfortable position of telling you that you’re wrong.

Fair-weathered friends can agree with everything you say and avoid confrontation forever, even if they judge you behind your back. So please understand that anyone who cares enough to tell you something you may not want to hear, knowing that you might not respond in the most gracious way, loves you enough to point out the blind spots in your life that may be evident to everyone else except yourself.

I know we creatives tend to tie a lot of our self-worth to the quality of our craft. But before you identified as being a creative or had any skills or strengths to bring to the table, you were already God’s beloved child who didn’t need to prove anything or be anyone to be 100% accepted, cherished, treasured and loved. And that’s still who you are, no matter what anyone says about your work.

If it’s a feedback point that will help you grow as a human being, take it. If it’s a feedback point about how you don’t seem to be meeting the brief, seek to understand the brief. Remember, you’re not designing this to prove what an amazing designer you are. Or that you are a calligraphy queen. If the brief doesn’t need calligraphy, figure out what it does need.

Because at the end of the day…

3. This really isn’t about you.

To serve as a creative in the house isn’t about proving how good you are, or how amazing you are at a very specific type of design, filmmaking or (insert your field of creativity here).

Our lives are about raising One name — Jesus. And when you signed up to do this for the church, you’re saying: God, let only one name be glorified, and it isn’t mine.

4. Embrace your portion.

(By the way, their reputation as great leaders made no difference to me, for God has no favorites.) Instead, they saw that God had given me the responsibility of preaching the gospel to the Gentiles, just as he had given Peter the responsibility of preaching to the Jew.
—Galatians 2:6–7

God doesn’t have favorites, but he does have portions. He calls our pastors to the platform, and he calls us to the supportive work of creative ministry. It is not about whose portion is better, but what he has placed in your hand. Flowing in the portion he has called you to will bring you greater success than pursuing what might look like a shiner (or more visible) platform that you were never called to own.

We’re creatives. We’re the behind-the-scenes people. Our names will seldom (if ever) be credited publicly. Sometimes when the powers that be remember the roles we played, we’d get appreciated. But a lot of the time, people aren’t going to remember that someone bothered to make powerpoint slides and fussed over the readability of the font size for the verses, or that there’s a giant welcome sign hanging at the doorway. This doesn’t mean what we do isn’t important. Importance is scarcely measurable by how many people stop to appreciate you.

People see the preachers on the stage, our pastors get the most visibility. But please remember that they get to do what they do, because we do what we do. We get to fuss over font sizes so that our pastor doesn’t have to. He gets to focus on bringing the word, and we get to support him by making sure people can see the words. Aye?

5. Don’t be ruled by your emotions.

“So above all, guard the affections of your heart, for they affect all that you are. Pay attention to the welfare of your innermost being, for from there flows the wellspring of life.”
—Proverbs 4:23 TPT

Yes, I get it, we creatives like to start our sentences with “I feel”.

We feel a lot of things. We feel all the time. We channel our feels into broken offerings of art that are vessels for all our feelings.

Being able to feel, being empathetic, being more aware of our emotions (and everyone else’s, which explains our hypersensitivity) is a big part of being “creative”.

BUT, as I often tell my team, being feel-sy is not an excuse to get away with “creative” behavior (or tantrums). While I agree that our ability to feel allows us to create work that can evoke an emotional response in others, but I do not believe that this gives us permission to be perpetually emo(tional) or to believe that we can only create when we have negative emotions.

A lot of the world’s art channels out from that source. But please, God is the originator of all creativity. Are you telling me that if the world creates their best art when they are sad, we can’t create even better art when we are filled with a revelation of His love for us?

In their sadness, they create work that makes people pensive and in despair at the state of the world, but we can create work that brings people hope despite the state of our world.

We can be led by our feelings, or we can be led by the Spirit. Creativity can be born from the flesh, or it can be born from the spirit. It can come out from the “I feel” or it can come out from the “I believe”. It’s your choice.

6. Don’t stop believin’.

…yet I am as strong this day as on the day that Moses sent me; just as my strength was then, so now is my strength for war, both for going out and for coming in. Now therefore, give me this mountain of which the LORD spoke in that day.
—Joshua 14:11–12 NKJV

With all the practical advice I’ve laid out above, you might be thinking: in that case, are you asking me to not think, not feel, and just accept everything that is thrown at me whether I agree with it or not?

Most certainly not. The same way we aren’t perfect, the teams and the leaders we serve with and under won’t be too.

But when we find ourselves getting angry at others, ourselves or the “system” for the being the roadblock and the reason why we’re not seeing the success we want, are we then placing our expectations on Him, or on the system and circumstances to work in our favor?

Taking a position of humility doesn’t mean you can’t have dreams. It just means we trust less in our ability to strive our dreams into being, but more in His ability to bring our dreams to pass in a restful way.

Be bold to dream, to pray, to expect, to hope and to desire more, but keep your heart focused on the Lord and not on the dream.

7. This is a marathon, not a shuttle run.

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, and I have remained faithful.
—2 Tim 4:7

I know we have a lot of enthusiasm and a whole lot of heart. But there’s a difference between excellence and perfectionism.

It is not how well we plan one event (and almost kill ourselves and everyone else getting there), but the consistency with which we run our race that will come to represent what our ministry stands for.

Ministry is a marathon, not a sprint. It’s not about how bright you blaze (and burn out), but being a sustainable, reliable light in the darkness.

Proverbs 24:10 reads, in The Message version, “If you fall to pieces in a crisis, there wasn’t much to you in the first place.”

Don’t have a ministry that is constantly in “nitro” mode. No one wants to be the one that everyone is secretly relieved not to have to work with.

A sustainable ministry looks like knowing what to say yes to and what to say no to. Knowing that you don’t need to overextend yourself to prove anything to anyone. That there’s no point being the one hit wonder if you’re too burned out to do anything else for the next 3 years after, or that everyone who works with you ends up with PTSD.

Instead, have a ministry that’s like this verse in the Psalms:

“Even when their paths wind through the dark valley of tears, they dig deep to find a pleasant pool where others find only pain. He gives to them a brook of blessing filled from the rain of an outpouring.”
—Psalm‬ ‭84:6‬ ‭TPT‬‬

A ministry that is so anchored and washed by the Spirit that even in the valley where everyone else can only see darkness, you will enjoy the cool refreshing blessings of His shelter. That when everyone else is feeling the heat, your ministry can be a refuge for others even in the day of despair. See, this doesn’t mean that you’re not faced with pressure, deadlines or interesting limitations. Every creative has enough of a masochistic streak to enjoy a good challenge. Bring it on.

But how do we cultivate such a ministry? We come right back to point 1: humility.

“Wisdom will exalt you when you exalt her truth. She will lead you to honor and favor when you live your life by her insights. You will be adorned with beauty and grace, and wisdom’s glory will wrap itself around you, making you victorious in the race.”
—‭‭Proverbs‬ ‭4:8–9‬ ‭TPT‬‬

Humility to entreat, to ask for wisdom, to run the race knowing that you’re in this for the long haul.

May you not be a light that burns fiercely and brightly but not long enough to make any real impact. But may your ministry and influence be long, reliable, sustainable and enjoyable for many years to come.

And how many of us have since grown up into young adults, exhausted office workers, struggling parents who would rather zone out and Netflix than read the Bible. Play one more round of whatever mobile game last caught our attention than reach out across WhatsApp to ask a friend how they’re doing.

We tend to fall into either category: going about our daily lives, believing that we’re going to change the world… All I need is the right person to notice how brilliant and anointed I am, any day now.

Or maybe you’re on the other side where you’ve given up and concluded that you were sold false marketing — 10/10 would not purchase again, 1-star Amazon review. Let’s just go back to paying our mortgages and supporting a young family. Who’s got time for calling and destiny?

By now, you must be thinking that this is a disillusioned cynic’s rant on the overhyped youth ministry dream, ten years later. But stay with me.

Yes, like many of my peers, the grind of daily life often looks vastly different from what we’ve been sold from the platform.

And yes, some of our peers do end up becoming very visible church leaders. But they are a handful in a youth ministry where we grew up in the hundreds and thousands. So what happens to the rest of us that don’t become pastors, platform people, and the ones whose lives are conspicuously, visibly celebrated for “making a difference”?

I guess my question to you today is: who told you impact and success had to be measured by visibility? When did we start believing that calling and destiny is only stepped into when you stand on a stage and preach to innumerable crowds? Or when you gain enough followers to call yourself a social media influencer?

We are so enamored by the idea of reaching everyone, that we forget that reaching the world starts with ONE.

Why do we measure success by how a big a crowd we can draw, when we ourselves want to be the ONE that God draws to in a crowd?

Are calling and destiny found only in the grandeur of large platforms, or in the quiet moments you have with different ONES in your life?

And if your platform starts with the seemingly mundane and normal things in life, why should that be any less?

Your marriage, the decisions you make every day that your children are watching, the conduct and honor with which you bring to your workplace, finally meeting that one friend whom the Lord keeps placing on your heart, buying tissue paper from the hawker uncle… Living with a sense of the largeness of God’s generosity and love — that by His supply, you can extend love to others too. Is this calling any lesser?

I challenge you to redefine what calling and destiny looks like for yourself today. We have countless opportunities to reach others, ONE life at a time.

And who knows. It doesn’t mean your calling and destiny will always remain the same in different seasonsBut the path to greatness starts with what’s in your hands, today, right now. Who’s in your world, today, right now.

And may we never despise and consider that any less great than the glamor of a stage.

At the bottom of this post are some pages from my journal. These are some entries from earlier this year. I have journaled since I was a child. As an adult, mainly on the bad days. I am usually dramatically articulate when I am sad. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I journal not to immortalize how I feel, but ironically, to make the thoughts disappear. Safer on paper, writing to God, than unleashed onto any poor unsuspecting human who won’t know what’s going to hit them. I almost never revisit what I write again.

Anxiety and depression doesn’t have to be visible. Many times it is not. People can look 100% okay and be 100% coherent and socially functional.

A friend recently confided that there are days she has to consciously decide she’s not going to jump. And this is a person who is going to get married, has a successful career and much to look forward to in life.

While I do not consider myself depressed nor suicidal, there are times the devil does have his shrewd ways of making me believe there’s no point living and that I should just off myself. After all, I started cutting myself and made a suicide pact when I was 14.

But I have come to recognize the cycles of despair that like to make their rounds in my life at uninvited intervals for what they are. Cycles. Seasons. That end. These seasons end. Your life doesn’t have to.

These emotions and accusations may come. But they don’t have to mean that you’ve fallen off the fragile boardwalk of normalcy and back into the murky clinging depths that want to drown you.

When they come for me, I see how the boardwalk of my life has blossomed into something solid, beautiful and indestructible. And these splashes that come from the depths are desperately trying to drag me down again, but they no longer have the power to do so. They’re just trying to make me believe that they’re still as powerful as they once were. But they are not.

This journey looks different for everyone. And I know it’s hard. The voices in your head are impossible to shut out. You may feel like you are numbly cruising through reality without ever being fully present.

But you are not alone. We all have coping mechanisms. I’m just sharing mine. Compartmentalising and understanding that the negative emotions and whispers to end my life aren’t a sign that I am losing my mind. But I can let them pass through rather than set up the guest bedroom for them to take up residence and get comfy again.

And that’s why I always journal to Jesus. Once the verbal diarrhoea is out of the way, it is a very Psalms-like experience; David whinging about his misery, before ending off by submitting it all to the Lord. This is a world where hope is scarce. And my only hope is Him. I cannot will myself out of misery. But I choose the rescue boat of believing that if there is any hope in this dismal world, it is Him. And that is why my mantra has always been — and will possibly always be — that Jesus is enough for me.

Just sharing this to encourage anyone else out there who is convinced that you’re alone and you’re the only one going crazy. That no one is going to understand because your life looks “totally fine” on the outside.

The dark doesn’t have to win. It will get better. Find a counsellor. Find someone to talk to. It’s okay to get help. It’s okay to not be able to hold the facade together. You are not alone.

It was a tense, quiet drive. But not a situation unfamiliar to us. Somehow, almost every holiday, Colin manages to find something really obscure and off the beaten path. And me, being crisis scenario planner 101, is almost always calculating our exit or emergency strategies as he drives.

(On this particular trip I was constantly taking note of when was the last time we saw occupied property (few and far between) along the route in case anything broke down and we needed to go get help 😂 and did I mention that there was literally wasn’t ANY TYPE of signal on our phones whatsoever.)

So we got to Max Patch. And as expected, it was cloudy. It was an uphill. trek to an unremarkable expanse of grass to watch a nonexistent sunset. And after that ridiculously perilous drive, we didn’t even bother climbing to the top.

So, every time something like this happens, I ask God to show me what He wants me to learn from the moment. I’m a person who hates not knowing, hates not having control over my situations, and hates wasted time. So my best coping mechanism whenever things don’t go as planned is to take a deep breath and ask God to show me what I’m not seeing.

And He did.

As we were climbing up the slope in silence, I heard God whisper: “Does the journey always have to look like it’s worth it?”

Well. We’re driving out 3hours both ways to the middle of nowhere, why do it if it isn’t worth it?

“Instead of wondering what’s on the other side of this journey, why don’t you just enjoy the fact that you’re here now? Maybe there isn’t a spectacular sunset. But the weather is nice and cool. You’re with the one who loves and spoils you rotten. And it’s still a beautiful moment to be grateful for. Not every journey has to be spectacular. Not every activity has to appear visibly worth the effort. Enjoy the present Liz.”

And so if there was anything God was teaching me, it was to enjoy the moment even if it wasn’t what I expected it to be. That things don’t always have to go according to plan for me to be content. That unexpected adventures didn’t have to throw me into instant anxiety.

And we had a nice drive back. By chance a tree had fallen and blocked our original path, and the reroute sent us to a much better paved road and a much safer way home.

There was so much that was unexpected and “seemed” unsafe on this little adventure, but all the time inside, the Holy Spirit was reassuring me that even though I didn’t have control, and I didn’t need to have control, none of my crisis plans would need to be called into action. My flesh felt anxious, but my spirit was chill. 😂

There’s always something to be grateful for when you see the detours and adventures of life through the lens of grace. :)

I held nothing back.

My arms were stretched

wide open in vulnerability.

Knowing that it was an embrace that

you could choose not to receive.

But even when you turned me away,

When you refused to answer my calls,

Or open the door

as I stood patiently and waited,

Even when you hid, or ran,

I still loved you,

I never left you,

I still watched out for you,

I still had your back.

I fought the shadows

that told you you’re not worth it.

I battled the monsters

that chained you to your past.

I wiped your tears even though

you pretended I didn’t see them.

I held you even when you tried to

fold in on yourself and lock me out.

I knew you could hear me.

I knew you could still feel me.

And when you finally lifted your head

and accused me of not being there,

Even though I never left,

I didn’t try to defend myself.

I just held you, and let you be you.

Then comes days where

you’d warm up to my presence.

And others when you’d lock me out again.

But I promise,

even when you slam the door on me,

a familiar sight,

just so you know, my love.

Even when you

don’t listen to my advice,

Even when my heart

has to break watching you do

precisely what I told you not to,

I’m still here.

I’m still going to knock on your door,

Snuggle close when you think

no one can see you cry,

Fight off the bad guys

in your nightmares,

And love you till you

let my sunshine back into your world again.

Never giving up on you,

God

Of unmasked, carefree grins that wordlessly said: “I trust you.”

Of contentment found in moments where our spirits were knit: “I understand.”

On the fringe of the friendships I’ve lost,

Are memories of flames cooling to dying embers and hardening coal.

Of distracted disinterest and polite smiles that hide our favorite lie: “Sure, let’s catch up sometime.”

Knowing that even if we did, we no longer had the words, spoken or unspoken, to make the fires warm again.

On the fringe of the friendships I’ve lost,

Lies a cavern of memories that gets easier to revisit.

For the pain dulls to a predictable ache and I get accustomed to the inevitable loss.

“I’ll see you sometime,” you say. The faint smile on your face doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Sure,” I smile back without missing a beat.

We won’t.

“This is as good as it gets. This is all you’re ever going to be.”

“You’re never going to be good enough anyway, you should just give up now.”

“Talent is wasted on you. So what if you’re a good creative? You’re horrible at relationships. You always say the wrong things. You’ll always be misunderstood. You’ll always have to try twice as hard as the men to prove your worth.”

“You have no friends because you keep running away. You just hide where no one can find you so no one can hurt you. You’re always going to be alone.”

I buried my face in my hands. I wish this room wasn’t as familiar to me as it had become. Yet here I was again — the place I run to hide when I cannot face reality. But the Voices that live here can be even more cruel than the invisible monsters I’m running away from.

In my haze of deepening despair, I turn to the only source of light in the room.

“Is there nothing I can do?” I ask, despondently.

I’d kept my shadows closer than His light, and now I can barely make out His face in the dim illumination from the corner. The room is small, yet He still feels so far away.

He shakes his head lightly, and I can almost see a small smile crossing His face.

“Maybe,” I start, a tone of desperation in my voice. “Maybe, I just need to read Your word more? I know there’s an answer there. I know there are sermons waiting that will set me free. I know there are other Voices I should be heeding and not the ones that live here with me, in the darkest part of my heart, in the most helpless recesses of my creative soul. I just need to get my act together and stop wallowing right? I just need to find the will to open my Bible again, right? Right?”

I look meaningfully at Him, rambling the answers I’d known in my head even before this room existed.

‘If it was so easy, why’re you still here then?’ taunted one of the dark voices, as the shadows closed in once more.

I closed my eyes in pain. Because that voice was right.

I knew where the answers were meant to be found. But I had not the strength to find them. I sat exhausted on the floor, and begged Him again: “What do I do? Is there nothing I can do?”

Silence, from the light in the corner.

Then, quietly, the Voice replied, “I love you.”

I let out an exasperated sigh.

“Yes, yes — I know you love me. But what should I do?” I asked impatiently.

“Do you really believe I love you?”

“Um… Yeah. I know you do. But you love me and I’m still stuck here.” I pointed out in irritation. Why did I have to spell out the obvious?

“I can’t Lord, I can’t find the strength to get out of here. I can’t find the strength to open that door and let Your light back in. I’m tired of walking out of this room only to find myself back here three months later. I’m tired of thinking this room was gone for good only to realize, again, that it has never left me. I’m tired that my weaknesses are always the same. I’m tired that the same things are allowed to haunt me again, and again, and again.”

Silence.

“I still love you,” He finally profered.

“Why is that your answer to everything?” I asked waspishly. “It doesn’t even answer my question. I asked you what should I do, and you tell me you love me.”

Again, the smile.

“Precisely. That is precisely the answer to your question.”

The light grows slightly, as I give it more attention for a moment than the shadows that cling to my mind.

“I love you. Can that be enough?” He asks.

“Can it be enough for you that you are mine? Can it be enough for you that… even before you had anything to bring to the table, any gifts to beautify the world with, any ability to bring My word to My people, I already loved you?

Can it be enough, that even if you don’t have the strength to find Me in my word, or believe the words of your friends, that if you just knew one thing, it would be that I love you?

Can it be enough, that when you have given up on yourself, and in your isolation you believe that everyone else has given up on you, that I will never give up on you? That I’m already committed to you whether you’re in this room or out thinking you’re saving the world — I already love you. Even if you never write another word, never create another piece of art, never make another film, never minister to another person again, I love you, and I will love you till the very end, till the very day we meet face-to-face, and even then, I will love you for an eternity more.

Can that be enough for you?”

I opened eyes that I didn’t even realise were closed. And wiped tears that were as familiar as the accusations I lived with.

“Even if I end up back in this room again?” I whispered.

“Especially when you end up back in this room again,” He affirmed, as the light grew visibly brighter.

I looked around the room. The shadows were still there. But the Light shone merrily now, and the shadows didn’t seem as intimidating as they were a moment ago.

“Will this feeling ever go away?” I asked, as Light drew near and pulled me into His embrace.

“My voice is louder than any shadow,” He said confidently as He held me close. “There is no voice more powerful than mine.”

He waved vaguely to where I thought the shadows were. “Those are the voices of accusation. But I am the voice of truth. You listen to me.”

“I’ll take that.” I said.

And at the end of myself, there You were.

There You were.

Short of sounding like someone’s inspirational quotes board on pinterest, this are a few (7, in fact) things I know is true for myself at 29 years young.

You cannot change people, you can only love them

When someone knows you love them without the expectation that they have to change, their hearts will naturally be more open to you. There are enough people in their lives, even people who claim to love them, to remind them that they would be better if they stopped doing this or started. being that. Don’t be another one. Love first, change comes when the heart knows warmth and acceptance again.

You can be content even when you don’t have everything

The better paycheck, the 100k followers, the new Audi, the extra favor with your higher ups, there will always be something new to chase. The human heart is a greedy bloodsucker. It never stops wanting more. Settle in your spirit that this futile chase will never end, and stop postponing your happiness. Be present, savor every moment, every person, every interaction, and stop believing that some shiny new achievement in your not so distant future is the key to your heart’s joyful flutter.

Ambition comes at a cost. I don’t know what all your late nights and early mornings OT-ing are worth to you. But pretty much nothing is worth the price of having more money than time to spend on what (and who) truly matters.

It’s better to have peace than to be right

Pride always wants the final say. Where does the need to justify ourselves come from?

Be still in the presence of the LORD, and wait patiently for him to act. Don’t worry about evil people who prosper or fret about their wicked schemes. Psalm 37:7

What is a broken relationship on the altar of being proven to be right?

Good sense makes one slow to anger, and it is his glory to overlook an offense. Proverbs 19:11

The sum of who you are today is the result of all the micro-decisions you made yesterday

Why have I been spending my time reading a lot more non-fiction books? Because at the end my 6–10 hours spent in a book, I learn something I didn’t know before. The fiction books of my youth (Robin Cook, Michael Crichton, Neil Gaiman, Terry Pratchett ftw) shaped a lot of what I sound like when I write. But the leadership, management and spiritual books I read today teach me, in a very condensed space of time, life lessons that took decades for these people to accumulate and articulate into practical wisdom.

You’re always one decision from a different life.

We can make excuses for our time. But the sum of our lives is really the sum of the choices we make with the minutes and hours of every day, which stretch into weeks, months, and years. So spend it well.

You become someone you don’t want to be when you are busy trying to prove yourself

Don’t find yourself in a place where you’re (un)consciously desiring to claim credit, (un)consciously exemplify the type of self-serving character you despise in others. Don’t fall into the comparison trap, always attempting some form of one-upmanship.

You can be secure and not hard-up about needing to be the one who gets ahead, who always gets noticed.

A heart at peace gives life to the body, but envy rots the bones. Proverbs 14:30

Don’t become a caricature of who you always believed you were meant to be.

Celebrating the successes of others doesn’t mean there is less for you

Our God is the God of much more.

“Trust in Him at all times, O people; Pour out your heart before Him; God is a refuge for us.” Psalm 62:8 (NASB)

In God’s economy, you don’t have to live in, as articulated in the musical Les Miserables, a ‘dog eat dog’ world.

Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit. Let us not become conceited, provoking and envying each other. Galatians 5:25–26

If you are generous with your praise, with celebrating others, you will attract a similar kind of favour.

All the value you desire from others will never be enough if you don’t personally believe you are valuable

If you don’t value your own time and capacity, no one will.

If you are always trying to prove yourself, no amount of praise will be enough. No matter how gently the criticism or feedback is given, it can crush you.

Have a healthy sense of self-worth (Christ-worth). That you are valuable before you were capable. If you tag your value to what you achieved by the sweat and sacrifice of your hands, you’ll have to spend the rest of your life similarly maintaining it.

And as we’d seen from how even Michelin grade chefs choose to hang up their stars to get their life back, that pursuit is emptiness of emptiness.

Choose to anchor your worth in Christ, that He was enough so you don’t have to be. You’’ll end up making less decisions out of fear that you’re not measuring up.

And that’s 7 little things I know, at 29. And I’m sure it’ll get more nuanced with age, life, and experience. :)

I do know, however, that it puts us in a place where we may be expected to be:
Firm, yet kind.
Decisive, yet not stubborn or strong-headed.
Empathic, but not emotional.
Passionate, but not intense.
Everything a man is expected to be, yet still tender, lovely, and kind.

This is just a shout out to my fellow womenfolk to say:
Don’t be so hard on yourself. Regardless of whether it was your fault, or if you felt you could have done better, the world is already hard enough on us. As women, we are even harder (and judgier) on each other.

So be kind. Let someone know today that they’re doing okay. That you appreciate them. Because you’ll never know who, in your world, is struggling with the weight of not-good-enoughness right now.

No matter how the world perceives us, or how talented or accomplished we appear to be, the truth remains: We never feel good enough. We are never satisfied with ourselves, our portion, or our work. We take being our greatest critic to another level. And we suffer in the silence of not knowing, or daring, to articulate how we feel because people don’t understand why, if we seem to already have it good, are we still feeling so much lack and inadequacy.

But that is why we need God. To be anchored to something greater than ourselves. Because God help me (literally) if all I have to hold on to in this life is my sorry opinion of my self-worth that fluctuates from “you’ve got this” to “you’re worthless” all in the same sitting.

I am not stronger because I have Jesus. But it does allow me to be weak, vulnerable and exposed with all the ugliness and neediness of my flesh before the One who loves me, knowing that no matter how pathetic I feel about myself, He always has a good opinion of me.

I will never be enough. Not for myself or for anyone else. But you, Jesus, will always be enough for me.