Sending a book baby out into the world is always hard. My fingers tighten on the spine. I want to tuck it away in a drawer. Hide it. People could react without love. They could tell me they don’t like it. And this Just Show Up book baby is the most special. This book has my heart on every page. How can I let people judge that? I am broken on the pages. I was losing a dear friend with each word that dropped from my fingers. My journal entries from the journey with Kara are there for all to see. Surely it would be better to tuck this away and keep it safe.
And then the Lord admonishes me. This is MY book. It has always been my book. Remember when you cried out on your knees to me for the words? Remember when you asked why me? I gave you the words and the pages. It is mine, and now you have to give it back to me.
The book baby flies into the world, innocent. Hoping. Hoping to help someone. To find some hearts to hold and love. To say to another, you have done well. You are doing well. Keep loving. Keep reaching out, even when it’s painful and you want to hide like me. Keep obeying. Love BIG.
And then I hear from one person that they did something for a friend they would never have done in the past. They showed up, and they were blessed.
I hear from another person that people have come to sit with them in their suffering. They could not fix it, but they were present.
And from another, that they have been encouraged in ministry and understand it in a way they never have before.
From another that they laughed and cried and were encouraged.
And then I cry. This book baby was not easy to write or release. This book baby is close to my heart. It is my heart. It is Kara’s heart, and she’s not here to answer my text. To laugh and celebrate and cry with. But as always, God reminds me that anything I do is from him and for him. It is his and always has been. Any gifts are from him. They are mine only in order to worship him, to honor him, to draw people to him.
Whatever you’re holding on to today, I get it. I get it big time. But if he’s nudging you to obey, to follow, to give it back to him, I will stand with you as you do it. I will hold your hand and say, fly baby, fly. This was never mine to hold. Only to dream of for a little while, and then to let go.