Sometimes being a writer—and writing for publication—is so delightful, amazing, and wonderful, that you feel like a pig in mud.
And sometimes being a writer feels more like you’re a pig in raisin sauce.
Maybe you can’t identify. Maybe you’re just loving the writing life, riding high, cashing the checks, and collecting the awards.
If that’s the case, then you can close this window now. Just click away. This has nothing to do with you. But the rest of us know, though writing has many rewards, that writing for publication—writing professionally—can be brutal.
It’s a hard row to hoe, as Grandpa used to say. If you’ve discovered even a little of that reality, let me make a suggestion, which I think I can draw straight from the life of Jesus.
John’s Gospel relates a few sentences that might be easy to skip, especially coming, as they do, right before the story of Jesus’ encounter with the woman at the well. John 4:1-3 says:
Now Jesus learned that the Pharisees had heard that he was gaining and baptizing more disciples than John—although in fact it was not Jesus who baptized, but his disciples. So he left Judea and went back once more to Galilee (John 4:1-3 NIV).
There’s a lot more to those verses than meets the eye, but I’d like to focus on “So he left Judea and went back once more to Galilee.” I’m told that the Greek word used for “left” is a bit strong. One commentary says, “The word means ‘to leave a thing to itself,’ to its own ways, to treat it as no longer exercising an influence on the mind.” Judea meant opposition and persecution, even arrest, which He didn’t fear; but the timing was wrong, as He told His mother at the wedding in Cana. By contrast, Galilee was not only home but also openness. It had its challenges, too, but it was more fertile ground for His message and mission. So, Jesus left Judea in His rearview mirror and made for Galilee.
If you’re a writer, you probably have your own Galilee–and Judea, so to speak. Certain company or certain surroundings tend to drain and discourage you (your “Judea”), while others comfort and inspire you (your “Galilee”).
It may be that, like Jesus, you and your writing can profit from more intentionality and resolve in frequenting Galilee (at least for a time) more than Judea. You may be in your “Judea” right now and may need to consider your departure. You may be unable to completely avoid your Judea, but you may need to schedule periodic trips to Galilee to not only preserve (or restore) your sanity but also to stoke the fires of your creativity.
So, what came to mind as you read that? Where is your writer’s “Judea?” And your “Galilee”? Do tell.
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser
Jesus left Judea
and made for Galilee,
a very good idea,
but it is not for me.
Judea was the endless fight,
Galilee was home,
but writing in this tortured night,
there is one thing that’s known,
that I cannot escape the pain
that will make my end,
so as long as I remain,
it must become the friend
that animates both word and though,
because Judea’s all I’ve got.
Andrew Budek-Schmeisser
Argh. Line 13 should, of course, be, ‘that animates both word and thought’.
Gotta cross all the t’s. Kinda hard if they ain’t there.
Dianne Miley
My Judea would be marketing — advertising dollars spent that yield less than I spent, social media efforts with no return, etc. These drain both my mind and bank account.
My Galilee is a writing session that flows or a successful book signing. In person marketing always lifts me better than online.
Carol
Galilee is our home at the coast we had to leave behind when my husband got a job four hours away in Judea. Our kids live at our home in Galilee but the irregular trips back home refreshes body, soul and spirit.
Linda Riggs Mayfield
Seasonal affective disorder from the long, cold winters in the Midwest (truly S.A.D.) have long been my Judea, but years ago God gave me direction about it in 1 Peter 4:1: Don’t just sit and wait, prepare yourself! After my beloved husband died in November, 2022, I expected a really bad winter, so in a chain of events that seemed almost miraculous, I prepared by booking an Airbnb apartment in El Paso, TX, 2 blocks from my daughter and her family, for the month of January. I read, prayed, painted, ate healthy, walked miles in the high desert sunshine, spent quality time with my loved ones, and finished a book for which I was under contract. It was released by Springer 6/24/24. I’ve reserved the same apartment in ElPaso/Galilee for TWO months this winter.
Ruth E Holleran
I love this! Vermont is no paradise in the long dark winter. Sure, it teaches patience in suffering, but I think I have had all the lessons I want. I love the idea of spending a month in the South during its temperate season, if only for the exercise alone! Walking a treadmill and lifting weights in the dim basement alongside a window to the black “morning” makes my soul shut down to minimum power just to cope. Yuck. Glad you found a good way out.
Kim
Thank you Bob. I really needed this post. Hope your day goes well. Kim
Althea Damgaard
My Judea is living with the unpredictability of multiple sclerosis. I’m an upbeat extrovert, so when you meet me you probably wouldn’t even guess it.
My Galilee is seeing people get ah-ha moments when something I shared helps them see things in a new way or finally understand how to get over a stumbling block. It doesn’t even have to be my words.
It was awesome just the other day on a zoom call of fellow authorpreneurs sharing what they thought were wild dreams, but the rest of us are like, “DO IT!” Our Judea can make us think our ideas are crazy, but sharing them with others opens our eyes to the real possibilities.
Gordon
I think we should all trade places with those Christians experiencing torture and martyrdom simply for being Christians. Shove our way to the head of the line. Raise a hand with “V” for Victory. Blow kisses to the lions.
Galilee is rural—sadly, right now, not so quiet. Our Galilee may be a place, but also takes place when we accept Jesus’ offer to take his yoke and learn from him.
Cathy
My Judea is professional publication, and my Galilee is my home church body. Judea requires of me things I don’t hear God calling me to do. Galilee is where I am called to write Bible studies, devotionals, and teach classes on journaling to deepen one’s walk with the Lord. It is the way He has led me all these years, and to go to Judea is to take on bigger burdens than I have been given. However, if He does call me to go to Judea, I know, as He told Paul in Acts 18:10, that He has “many people” in that city, enabling me to go confidently with the assurance that He is with me there. (Why are the quiet hometown writers made to feel, from magazine publications and craft books to writers’ conferences and conversations with published authors, that publishing professionally is the most (or only) desirable goal for writers? Maybe it’s just me.)
Yvonne
I spent the past week thinking about this very topic. My Galilee is my home and my home church. The older I get, the more time I spend thinking about eternity. If God calls me to Judea, When God calls me to Judea, I go in obedience and love of my Heavenly Father.
MaryAnn Diorio
What a thought-provoking post! Thank you, Mr. Hostetler! It’s often in the more obscure verses of Scripture—those we tend to gloss over—that the greatest nuggets of truth lie.
My “Judea” is the misunderstanding I experience from fellow Christians who deem the writing of fiction to be a frivolous waste of time, especially for one blessed with many years of “higher education.” They advise me to put my education to better use. 🙂
Such a myopic attitude saddens me. Jesus taught in parables (stories) and transformed hearts in the process. I want to emulate Him and glorify Him by using the storytelling talent He has given me.
My “Galilee” is a local lake in a lovely park with a picturesque walking path around the lake. Whenever I go there, I am always renewed and refreshed. 🙂
Yvonne
I thought I had deleted the first phrase, “If God calls me to Judea.” Apparently I didn’t wait long enough for it to disappear. One minute ago, I had a lovely Galilee moment when a male cardinal perched on my fence and serenaded me.
Shirlee Abbott
My Galilee is my car. For 20+ years, I drove an hour to and back home from work. That was my prayer time, my thinking time — the source of my next sentence, my next post, my nest project. Now retired from that commute, my car continues to be my gateway to inspiration. When I’m stuck with writer’s block, I get in the car and drive … voila! My creative brain turns on.
Katrin Babb
For the longest time, my Galilee was cleaning out the horse stalls. The smell of walking into a horse barn, that horse essence mixed with sweet, dry hay and the leather of the saddles. While cleaning the stalls, I could zone out and let me mind work on whatever it needed. A stuck scene, a situation in life, burnt cake.
My Judea is social media. I understand how to use it, but it feels so impersonal to me.
Felicia Ferguson
Such an interesting and timely post! Thank you, sir. My Judea at this point is writing for publication. I just finished a novella that had me crawling up a rocky cliff of research and character. Then I went almost straight into edits of a book releasing next December, but I feel like I’m slogging through them (some significant changes were recommended to make my female protagonist more sympathetic).
Out of desperation for something fun because writing is my passion and my calling, I returned to writing fanfiction. Getting back into that world and playing in someone else’s sandbox, not have to focus so totally on plot, structure, and character development, has been an absolute joy! Thanks to your post, I now recognize fanfiction writing is my Galilee.
Susan Sage
Wow! This is so deep on multiple levels. I need to spend time pondering my “Judea” spiritually and thus my “Galilee.” As far as my writing “Judea,” it would have to be the stigma of not being farther ahead after all these years. But it’s also the inconsistent perception of a writer’s “success.” In the writing case, my “Galilee” is the writer’s group in which I participate. They help keep me on track.
Thanks for the depth of this piece. I needed the reminder of purpose and story. God bless you, Bob.