Typically, we define work as something we “do.” Work can then be defined as the activity you do as a profession and for which you are paid. But if you are a writer, the latter half of that formula isn’t always a guaranteed proposition!
Thus, for the writer, we are left with a definition of work as being what you do. But that can be a dangerous thing because we tend to let what we do define who we are. I can speak to this firsthand.
Over 30 years ago, I lost my job. I won’t go into the gory details; suffice it to say it was a surprise and came without warning. Since I had some time on my hands, I thought I would take a night class on the Old Testament prophets at a local seminary. During the first session, the professor had us go around the room, say our names and what we did for a living. When it came my turn, I flushed with embarrassment and said, “My name is Steve Laube, and I am unencumbered by employment.” I felt so humiliated that I left the building during the first break and never returned.
Why did I react that way? Because I defined myself by my work. And since I no longer had “work,” I no longer had a purpose. A ridiculous reaction? Maybe. But it was very real at that moment.
I wrestled during those months of unemployment with my own sense of identity and purpose. Ironically, my work became the job of finding a job. Eventually, through God’s mercy, I received a phone call from Carol Johnson at Bethany House Publishers wanting to talk about me becoming an editor. And a new chapter began.
I learned some valuable lessons during those dry times. Some of them may apply to your situation.
1. I am not what I do. While it is so easy to fall into this trap, it is actually a sinkhole without a bottom. You are not a writer. I am not a literary agent. What we do is not our identity. I have to trust what God says in Philippians 3:20 and Colossians 1:13-14 and 1 Peter 2:9. If we believe in Christ, our identity is in Him.
2. Waiting is hard. Need I say more?
3. Success is impossible to define. We all struggle with this, but writers in particular. We drink up numbers and rankings and other authors’ successes like water in a parched desert. When our numbers are not what we had anticipated, we get depressed. Since writing is solitary and time-consuming, there is a desire to have some criteria by which we can judge whether the effort is “worth it.” But that definition is incredibly subjective. No two authors define success in the same way. I talked to a writer who was angry that their latest book did not sell the usual 50,000 copies, but only sold 40,000. Another author was mortified that their book sold only 1,200 copies over two years. Publishers can also define success differently. One may sell 5,000 copies and celebrate. Another publisher may sell 5,000 copies, and someone’s job is on the line.
Let’s return to number one on the list above and think about it for a moment: “You are not what you do.” Then, aren’t the other two solved by grasping the import of number one?
It is simplicity itself. Instead of searching for identity, success, and gratification, we already have everything we need.
Please don’t misread me. I’m not saying you can’t or shouldn’t identify what you “do.” I am a literary agent. This is a true statement and the answer I give when asked, “What do you do for a living?” Giving a theological answer would come across as pretentious.
Writing is something we get to do.
Writing is something we are called to do.
In that, there is purpose. In that, there is success.
However, I do not wrap up my Identity (with a capital “I”) in my job. That lesson was learned. My identity, as in who I am at the core, should not be defined by my occupation. How we act is a reflection of our inner self. “You will recognize them by their fruits” (Matthew 7:16). “Faith apart from works is useless” (James 2:20). And yet at the same time, 2 Corinthians 5:17 reads, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.”
[An earlier version of this post was published in 2014. It has been reworked and updated.]
Always good wisdom.
This can be a huge struggle of mine, especially when I start playing the stats and ranking game. Thanks for sharing, Steve.
Thanks, Steve, for this good reminder. God’s timing is impeccable. I needed to hear this.
We are His. Created for His purposes and our mission in life is to glorify Him forever. With a commission like that from a gracious God who died to set us free, our identities are established. Thank you for reminding me, Steve.
Great post, Steve. I’ve contemplated identity for a long time. You’re right that it’s easy to wrap our identities in what we do rather than Whose we are. I’ve been learning to live this out, especially now that I’m walking on the writing journey! Remembering Whose I am, that I am identified with Jesus, helps me to trust God’s timing more for His plans to be carried out in my life.
I love your reminder that work/writing is something I GET to do, and it’s something I’m called to do. Thanks for that!
I appreciate your sensitivity to a writer’s frustrations of defining success and needing to play the waiting game. Isn’t it something how God uses pain (you losing your job) to teach us important concepts, like finding identity in Him. Thank you. I will remember this.
http://www.sueraatjes.blogspot.com
Steve, that is a very meaningful insight from a deep guy, whose depth was seemingly plumbed during his own wilderness years. I am comforted by this, having spent 10 years in my own wilderness writing many words as I wrestled with God’s take on it all. I have used this metaphor before, but it fits here. Mandela spiritually and mentally cast off his chains and left his cell long before they freed him, but in opening the cell door he freed his prisoners. True victory over what we face will never be found in defining ourselves by our circumstances. Whatever applied to Mandela is one thing, but this is what Paul said as he reclaimed his life, “I live, yet not I but Christ lives in”, whilst David said, “my cup runs over”. Thank you for a very poignant message and thank you identifying with the real-world struggles of others.
Great wisdom, Steve. As a retired engineer, I will reiterate the importance of keeping who you are separate from what you do. All retirees face an enormous identity crisis if their self perception is based on a career they no longer have.
I thank the Lord that He taught me years ago this distinction. I was an engineer, but I am (and always will be) a child of the King.
I wonder if John the Baptist felt like he was something very important but he was a very important part of the plan.
Hebrews 11 comes to mind.
Thanks for making me think about this today—it applies to our whole life.
It is not what we can do for God—it is what He can do with us.
Excellent post, Steve. Thank you.
Steve, this is a thought-provoking piece.
I don’t have a good answer to “What do you do for a living?” and it’s many variations. My attempts to answer wisely usually come off as trite or snarky.
How do you respond to that question?
Important things to think about. I spent a lot of years trying to reach the point of “being an author”. Now I am one, and yet it seems like an odd definition of who I am. The novelty and excitement of that first published book fades and most folks don’t really think about it after that. So if I hinge my identity on that, I will fade away as well. I will continue writing, since it is a God led aspect of my life, but it’s not who I am. My identity is in Christ. And Christ alone. Thanks for the reminder Steve.
I found it helpful when once a counselor remarked, reminded:
We are human BEings, not human DOings.
Steve, I agree wholeheartedly that occupation is not identity, but sometimes avocation can, and perhaps must be, the wellspring of congruence.
In these fell days I have to flog my spirit into a sense of purpose, and then by fabric into action. My body is ruined by cancer, and now, other things, and numerous high fevers and concussive injuries have slowed my mind. I don’t feel like my identity is in what I do, nor even in Christ. I can’t see that far. It feels like a failing.
And yet…
The hard stone steps abrade my feet,
and yet somehow they call to me
to take my Cross and rise to meet
the road to bloody Calvary
and the hard fate waiting there,
the grinning masque of reddest death,
the cloying closing graveyard air
that suppurates each clinging breath,
and it’s for me to play the man,
and grin through lips so cracked and dry
that those who see might understand
that now it’s We, not merely I.
Unwanted, I’ve become the leader,
with Christ as my Cyrenean Peter.
And yes, I realized after the fact that it was Simon of Cyrene to whom I referred, and honestly, that’s slow thinking at work.
But perhaps there was a subconscious element, or even a God Thing, that Simon again becomes Peter, and Jesus is the rock we find in the dark times.
I think the closer you come to shedding your broken mantle of flesh, your spirit shines through your sonnets more and more. It’s not easy to serve the Lord in the area of pain, is it? To share in the fellowship of Christ’s suffering.
Oh, those words sound so lovely when we say them, but actually going through that fellowship can be unbearable … or would be if we didn’t know this world is temporary.
I’m giving the message at our church this coming Sunday on “birth pains” and how we all need to lean into our pain and co-labor with God to birth SOMETHING.
I’m so looking forward to meeting you in eternity! And so thankful to have gotten to know you a little here, on Steve’s blog.
((hugs)) and prayers
Pam, thank you do much for the grace of your words. They mean more than I will ever be able to express in this life.
I’ve come so close to giving up on the sonnets, on any writing, recently…this stuff takes a lot out of me. But perhaps if there’s any self-definition left, this is it.
See you in a while, on the other side. I’ll be the guy with a long beard, looks like a garden gnome.
I always look for (and look forward to) your sonnets in the comments, Andrew. You paint your suffering with bold strokes and it’s a testament to your faith and perseverance. May the Lord be with you in these most challenging times!
Liz, I’m so deeply grateful for what you’ve written, and for the time and care you have taken in framing a response.
It’s folks like you that keep me going. Yes, God is with me, but His willing and active hands, feet, and heart make the difference.
Well, as I’ll planting my backyard garden tomorrow (Friday), I’ll think of you and my own garden gnomes … and I’ll be praying! ((hugs))
Good morning!
Besides being Cinco de Mayo, today is the first day of my retirement from a 43-year career in air traffic control. It’s 5:30 am. I got a cup of coffee and sat down to open my half-finished novel. It seemed like the Laube Agency blog was a good place to find some inspiration for the first day of the rest of my life. Boy, was it!
When I read your paragraph about sales numbers and how relative they are, I was reminded of the widow’s mite. Though her offering seemed meager, it was more than all the rest. This day, I don’t know what will come of my novels in the time ahead, but I do know the Lord will not measure my effort by what is seen. I can find just about all the inspiration I need right there.
Thank you Mr. Laube! You made a difference today!
Lisa
Great article, Steve. We must guard our value in ensuring our is centered in who we are in Christ. Too much emphasis in this world is placed on attaining perfection and excellence. These are set as the gold standards of success. I agree that these are goals to strive for, but do not translate into “I am excellent” or”I am perfect.” I define the apex of success as “I’m okay.” I’m okay with who I am, where I am, who I’m with, what I’m doing, and who I’m becoming. These help me find peace in the world while I proceed toward eternity.
GREAT post!!! EVER so true!!!
All the best, Jeannie Delahunt
This was a beautiful and helpful post. Thank you for your transparency. Recognition for my writing started in third grade. I wrote our school play in poetry in fourth grade. The music teacher lobbied to allow me to leave class any time I was inspired to write. In other words, my identity as a writer was affixed a long time ago. I am rethinking that.
This was a beautiful and helpful post. Thank you for your transparency. Recognition for my writing started in third grade. I wrote our school play in poetry in fourth grade. The music teacher lobbied to allow me to leave class any time I was inspired to write. In other words, my identity as a writer was affixed a long time ago. I am rethinking that.
Thank you for the introspective point of view. I appreciate the “ah-ha” moments when your words and others’ comment trigger a bit of pondering.
Whether laid off, downsized, fired or…yes, retired, the struggle to not identify the “I” from the “do” is a tough concept to lay aside.
The statement that writing (or whatever) is something we get to do…is a choice. The second, what we are called to do, is great for those who feel, hear or see their calling.
For me, it is more “what have you done with the gifts I gave you?” and the daily decision of sitting down and using those gifts…
I totally agree with this. Something similar happened to me after 10 years of successful work as a minister, I came home from the mission field and couldn’t find a job for 8 months, despite high academic qualifications, being bilingual, cross-cultural experience, good people skills, etc. It was hard to take. I know my identity should primarily be as a child of God, but that’s not what I felt like! It’s still a struggle, off and on…
Your comment about the different reactions to selling 5000 books, is a lot like the glass half empty/half full dichotomy. I always say that I consider it a miracle from God if there is a single drop of water in the glass.
Wow! This is loaded. “You are not what you do…’ can be applicable in various areas.
I love to write and at one point, thinking I was responding to the Lord’s leading, actually wrote a book. It was not accepted by those to whom I report. So, I simply applied what the Lord had highlighted for me to my own life situation! It has been very helpful.
‘You are not what you do…’ can also apply to emotional reactions. Interesting, you refer to anger as a response to poor sales. Anger can be, and often is a manipulative tool, so it too becomes something we do in our reaction.
The bottom line is to stay in the Lord’s will. He uses everything to teach us, mature us and prepare us for eternity with Him! What a blessing.
Steve, thank you for this excellent post that resonated with me and, obviously, the other readers. I appreciated learning your story of being out of work, a piece of your story I don’t recall hearing. Since we met in the 1990s when you were an editor, it has been pure joy to follow your journey and to hear updates from you when we saw each other at Mount Hermon. Your words, coming from your heart for God, always encouraged me in this ever-changing publishing world, and they did the same today. Bless you!
Steve
As a Marriage & Family Therapist I am in total agreement with you, “You are not what you do!” But then what are you? God’s Word says to His child, that in Christ I am “Beloved (Col. 3:12), Beautiful (Ps. 149:4), Pure ( I Cor. 6:11), Adopted (Eph. 1:5), clean (Jn. 15:3) Safe (I Jn. 5:18), Planned (Eph. 1:11, 12)(from “My New Name” Freedom In Christ Ministries). and the list goes on. It is only the Truth that sets one free, yet I consistently encounter Christians who want to believe the above, but struggle with believing what is the Truth. Every day our Lord provides His child with multiple opportunities to learn the above, BUT it takes “Faith,” and “walking in faith means not being in control.
I used to think if I stopped playing the piano at church that I wouldn’t be valued there anymore. It was a false narrative that only existed in my head. It keeps me from believing “if I only publish this book, then…”
Steve,
Thank you for this important post. The Lord showed me in retirement that my worth was bound up in my identity on the job. Then I tried to change my identity to writer. “Child of God” is my forever identity.