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Matthew 10:5-14

Instructions.  They are a critical part of life.  If I’m assembling something, it is good to read them.  If I’m giving them, it’s good to be clear.  If I submit something to an agent or publisher, it’s pretty essential that I read their guidelines carefully.  In my devotions today, I read about the instructions Christ gave to his disciples after he called them.  Several things in his list of conditions jumped out at me as parallels in my own writing life.  And Jesus doesn’t give the disciples this list until after they’ve agreed to follow Him.  A key component of following Christ is our surrender to His Will even when we don’t know all of the details.

As a Christian writer, I often must do the same.  I’ve surrendered to go on this journey, to write for Him, but I have no idea what His instructions will be.  My work may take an unexpected route.  God may direct me to indie publish, even though I’ve always been planning to go the traditional route.  My first published work may be a teenage girl’s devotional when my yearning is to get my fiction novel published.  It may be that God chooses to use me on a path of non-fiction, telling the stories He’s already created, rather than the ones I long to create.  However He chooses to use this gift of writing is His prerogative.  He does the calling; He defines the call.  So what were the conditions given to the disciples, and how does that relate to writers?

• To their own people.  In verses 5-7, Jesus tells the disciples to avoid Samaria and Galilee and to go to the Jews.  To the people who have known them their whole lives.  Now that may seem like an easy task, but think about it.  The people that know us best, know our characters and lives best too.  They not only know our foibles and quirks, but they know when we’ve lost our temper and said things we shouldn’t have. When we’ve harbored unforgiveness or have shared gossip.  When we’ve welched on a promise or mismanaged our finances. Peter?  A preacher boy now?  The fisherman who has no filter and says whatever he thinks?  Thomas? A doubter?  He wasn’t sure Jesus was the Messiah, but now suddenly he wants us to believe?  Simon the zealot?  The one who cheered in revolts against the Roman government?  And now he follows a Master who says “Give unto Caesar, what is Caesar’s”?  Maybe Jesus tells his disciples to go to the people they know first, because they will get the most painful rejections out of the way right at the beginning.  I am privileged to have supportive friends and family.  But even so, telling my family and friends I’m a writer can be hard.  To admit I spend my day making up stories might be a headscratcher for some people.  How does she manage to do that and take care of her family like she should?  Doesn’t she homeschool?  How can she possibly fit writing into her schedule too?  She’s spending money on writing conferences?  Sure seems like a waste of resources. She sure must think she has a lot to say with all the social media posts I see.  (Not one person has ever said these words to me–and if they’ve thought these things, well, they’re things I tell myself too.)  I’ve heard writers say that often the last ones to actually buy our books are the people closest to us.  I’m not sure why.  But it is often (though not always) true. Maybe it’s because of our shortcomings.  Maybe they want to see if our success (or how they’ve measured writing success) pans out.  I’m going to be totally honest here.  There are people who follow my social media that I am completely surprised about.  And there are people who I expected would, that I’m surprised do not.  That is not a cry for anyone who knows me to please sign up for my newsletter (I don’t have one yet, so don’t worry), or follow my blog or Facebook page, or Instagram or Twitter accounts.  Or buy my book when/if it’s published.  It’s just the reality of the prophet being without honor in his own country.  Like the disciples, I’ve had to learn to deal with the hardest rejections even before I have a contract.
• Special abilities.  In verse 8, Jesus gives them the power to perform miracles.  I have to imagine that the disciples may be agreeable to this condition.  Yesssss!  This is what we signed up for.  Did you see how that girl who had chronic fainting spells is cured now?  I did that.  You wouldn’t know he was a leper before, would you?  Snaps fingers. Just by my say so.  Mourners, you can go back home now, no death in this house today.  I just brought that child back to life.   Did the disciples ever suffer from a power trip?  I mean, can you picture Judas Iscariot having these abilities and his ego not growing?  Writers can be the same way.  We can trust in our own abilities instead of God’s.  We can become too confident because of the praise of others.  We can pull back on our dependence on God when we’ve been given a special mention, asked to teach at a conference, speak on a podcast, write for a blog.  That can be heady stuff. And none of those things are wrong. But it can puff up our pride, if we aren’t depending on Him.   Because let’s be honest.  How hard is it to not let our pride be affected by this writing business?  Yes, it’s a calling.  A ministry.  But guess what ministry involves?  People.  And often praise.  And just like any other artistic pursuit, it requires a tall order of humility and reliance on the Gift-giver.  Which is why I think Jesus gives the next condition.
• Take nothing with you.  Um, what?  Leave it all behind.  Jesus tells them they aren’t to take money.  No sandals.  Not even a second coat to cover up the sheep farm stink after a day’s walking.  Or for those desert nights when they might get a little chilly.  Forget the pouch of pistachios for a road trip snack.  Not taking it.  A walking stick? Afraid not fellas.  You weren’t thinking of possibly using that as a defensive weapon were you?  You know, for those less traveled roads where robbers might be lying in wait?  The obvious reason for this abandonment of physical possessions? To develop that reliance on God I mentioned in the previous point.  The disciples would never know where their next meal would come from, whether they would be sleeping under the stars, in a stable, or on the floor of a person’s home.  They have no way to provide for the families they’ve left behind, or to protect themselves from evildoers.  I don’t know about you, but when my security, shelter, and sustenance are a constant question, that tall order of humility I mentioned earlier, is served right about table level.  In the beginning of a writer’s career, the reliance on God part isn’t all that difficult.  I have to rely on Him to give me words, to use the message, to make the connections so that those words and message have the greatest impact, and to deliver that message to the people who most need to read it.  It can be hard to believe that God may not even use publication as part of this journey.  That He may deepen my dependence on Him by prolonging that dream.  Because whose dream is it anyway?  Mine?  Not that God doesn’t use our dreams.  Not that He doesn’t put those dreams in us.  But they may not always deliver like we think they will.  And I have to rely on Him every step of the way if I want to see it realized.
• Rejection.  This is a hard one.  Jesus tells them they will be rejected.  Not that it might happen.  Not that there’s a strong possibility.  No.  It’s going to happen.  Writer friends, we will be rejected.  By an agent.  By a publisher. By readers. And sometimes those rejections will be unfair and unkind. How do we handle this?  I want to be careful not to take this parallel too far, because in the case of Christ, He is the only one who can offer peace.  Rejecting Him is a difference of eternal life or death.  But we handle it the same way the disciples were instructed to.  “And if the house be worthy, let your peace come upon it:  but if it be not worthy, let your peace return unto you.”  What does that mean?  Does it mean if somebody doesn’t care for our writing or our book we should, like the next verse says, “shake off the dust of your feet”?  Am I saying the reader is only worthy if she gives you a glowing review?  No.  But criticism disturbs our peace, doesn’t it?  And if the criticism seems unwarranted (maybe it is, maybe it isn’t) then we need to seek the readers who understand our writing and be at peace with the ones that don’t.  We need to be at peace with knowing that our book is not for everyone.  Nor is it meant to be.  That’s why we have target audiences and specific marketing goals.  My peace returning unto me is not leaving my peace behind with the reader who doesn’t understand my writing.  I take it to the next reader. When the disciples went into a home, not everyone would listen or accept.  The peace of God offered through Jesus Christ would leave with them. I can still be at peace with those who don’t understand what I’m called to do.  With those who don’t understand this writing ministry.  With those who just don’t enjoy my writing style, my plots, my characters, my genre.  They’re not supposed to be mine, remember.  They’re all His.  And if I’m at peace with Him and what He’s led me to do, then I need to be at peace with the rejection that comes.

We know that all the disciples continued to follow even after these instructions were given.  They may have wanted to back out once or twice.  That may be the case for writers also.  Lord, you didn’t tell me it was going to be this hard.  I didn’t know when I started this how long it would take.  I’m tired of rejection after rejection.  I want to go back now.  I don’t want to be called to this anymore.  I’ve had all of those thoughts.  And I’ll have to remind myself time and again, that He does the calling so He defines the call.  Am I in this for the power trip, the reviews, the glowing words?  Or am I focused on the eternal message our words carry?  And the peace it may provide?