|I love the “baby shoes” pictures my friends have made to announce their pregnancies.
This is our nonprofessional knock-off, courtesy of uncle-extraordinaire, Jason.
Over the last year or so, a LOT of people have said to me, “This book is like your baby.” I see their point. It certainly was “conceived.” It is part-David and part-me, although I got most of the attention during its “development” (and did most of the work!). I have looked forward to the day–this day–that it would arrive.
The analogy pretty much falls apart after that.
I thought I’d be over-the-moon excited today, but I’ve been gripped by fear. On a selfish surface level, I’m afraid it won’t sell. Not far below that, I’m deeply terrified that I’ve messed something up. And it’s way too late to make any edits.
Every chapter of the book ends with a Scripture passage. In the original outline of the book, I was only going to include Scripture in chapter 4; but as I wrote, God’s Word made its way into my head and onto the pages. So want it or not–fear it or not–I’m officially teaching interpretation of Scripture in Barren among the Fruitful.
The Apostle Paul had a particular disdain for false teachers. Writing to the Galatians, he explained that a fungus-sized untruth from one person can grow and push an entire city of believers away from God:
Who has impeded your progress and kept you from obeying the truth? You were off to such a good start. I know for certain the pressure isn’t coming from God. He keeps calling you to the truth. You know what they say, “Just a little yeast causes all the dough to rise,” so even the slightest detour from the truth will take you to a destination you do not desire. Despite this, I’m confident because the Lord reassures me that you will truly hear and take my message to heart. Besides, I also know that these troublemakers, whoever they are, will answer to God and be judged accordingly. (Galatians 5:7-10, The Voice)
I don’t want to be a “troublemaker.”
A few years before I even thought of writing this book, I found myself praying regularly, “God, please use me, but don’t let me get in Your way.” It’s almost become a mantra. I say those words (or some version of them) every time I talk with Him because I know selfish, sinful me would rather be working to accomplish my own goals instead of His will. I understood that as I was writing, so I prayed every moment I worked. I think it was more like raising a child than growing an embryo.
So today my book isn’t a baby; it’s fully grown and out of the house. I wonder if the fear I feel is akin to what parents experience when their children leave the nest. All I can do now is pray that as Barren encounters the world, God somehow uses it to introduce people to Him.
And hope I didn’t mess it up too much.