It’s been a couple of months since my most recent rejection letter from a publisher. I posted about it on Instagram. If you didn’t see it, I went all temper-tantrum like and ranted about how social media has killed the publishing industry. I lambasted the idea that being a writer requires a person to stop writing and start posting, reeling, and memeing. I ended by saying that I hated being a writer and was ready to give it all up .

Since then, I have taken some time to reflect on what seeking a publisher was doing to me spiritually. Frankly, the arduous process of seeking agency and publication has been exhausting, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. As I have sat with my rejection letters and authorial dismissals, I found myself growing more and more negative. I felt judged and condemned. Even though I had a community of supportive people around me, of which I am grateful, every well-meaning statement of “Keep pushing and you will get there eventually”, just solidified the fact that I was NOT there presently. Words of encouragement became twisted into words of judgement. And the more I felt labeled as a failure the quicker I got in condemning others.

It was all becoming a bit too much.

During all of this, a friend told me of a statement she repeats to herself whenever she is flustered. Walk in what is good, she says to herself. When she finds herself overcome by negativity and self-doubt, she looks to the place where goodness shines upon her; When she struggles with discernment she seeks out the direction of blessing and love. “Walk in what is good” reminds her that Jesus is present, and that life with him is the ultimate goal.

See, Jesus never leads us into places so filled with negativity that it works against our souls. He leads us into life, freedom, joy, and vitality; this is his promise to us (John 10:10). To walk in what is good, therefore, means that we walk towards where we feel drawn into the love of Christ, allowing it to envelop us and define us. When we live this way, our sense of self increases; We feel a deeper security in who God has created us to be, and what God created us for. No longer is there the pressure to “make it” or to “get there”, because the love of Christ surrounds this moment, and this time. And so who we are, and where we are, becomes a sacred gift offered back to God.

For me, walking in what is good means I step away from rejection. Yes, I know that authors today often receive over 200 rejection letters before landing a publisher, and so my miniscule few may seem insignificant. But submitting my spiritual life an onslaught of negativity seems detrimental to my soul. My life isn’t found in the followers I have, my value isn’t set by the number of books I sell (or the way a book comes about). My identity isn’t defined by how many people read what I write or comment on my posts.

I don’t want to play for the algorithms. I don’t want to put my writing on hold so that I can appeal to publishers. I don’t want to seek an audience or a platform. I simply want to walk in the way that Jesus leads me. For me, the good way is to uplift those who are discouraged and to live into that encouragement myself. And if that means I never “make it” as an author, and never rise the ranks of public popularity, well then so be it.

Where is the good that God is directing you towards? Where does Christ beckon you to himself, and in doing so, to your deeper self? Is there a negativity or frustration that Jesus would like you step away from, so that you might uncover his direction in your life?

The goodness of Christ already surrounds you. You don’t need to earn, or strive for it, or merit it. You don’t need to prove yourself worthy. You don’t need to be any more than who Christ calls you to be this moment; and you don’t have to offer any more than what you can muster today. You are not your followers. You are not your success or your shares. You are not the memes that you post. You are not the thumbs-up you receive, or the comments you gain. You are not what today’s algorithm says you are, or what tomorrow’s metric forces you into. None of these things inform who you are, or God’s love for you.

You are a child of God: alive, loved, and free.