pure joyAs I mentioned in the monthly letter Q&A, a few years after God unexpectedly directed me into a speaking ministry, a wonderful acquisitions VP from Thomas Nelson asked me to write a book for them.

Well, this was unexpected! Looking back with a bit more experience, I am struck by the risk Nelson took on me. They flew me out to meet with and speak to their sales reps and announced in Christian Retailing Magazine that they felt they had discovered a female Max Lucado. The first month of sales were quite promising and then throughout the coming year, those numbers dwindled as bookstores began to return unsold merchandise.

Pure Joy had a strong cover design, a padded cover, and silver-edged thick, glossy pages. Nelson spared no expense in making the book beautiful and had proven success in the gift-book genre. Publisher and readers alike offered kind and encouraging words about the book’s content. But times were changing. As people strolled through bookstores, the author’s name more than a beautiful cover or interesting theme moved them toward the cashier’s desk. More than ever, platform was emerging as a critical component for sales. And this unknown author was missing that key ingredient.

Timeless lessons were embedded in this journey from the surprise of an unexpected contract to the encouraging certainty of my publisher’s hopes through the disappointment of low sales. God spiritually formed me through each step. Perhaps among the most valuable of lessons was this:

Successful endings are not the proof of divine beginnings.

When beginnings clearly bear the mark of God’s hand, we have a tendency to fill in the blanks with what the outcome should look like: Surely a dreamed-for-pregnancy will result in long life, not miscarriage. Surely a job that was unmistakably God’s provision will last as long as needed, not be cut via down-sizing. Surely an inspired partnership in ministry will bear life-long fruit, not fracture the very friendship that made it possible. Surely…

So when miraculous beginnings do not conclude with marvelous endings, we are tempted to become revisionists and—in our disappointment—rewrite the origin story.

But something does not have to last forever in order to have been God-inspired in origin.

Conception is still a miracle even if parents must wait to hold their beloved child until they see Jesus. God’s provision is still God’s provision even if a job does not last forever. Inspired beginnings are still inspired even if our common brokenness taints endings with wounds and scars.

We cannot allow current pain to incite us to lie about—or disown—past miracles.

When the books started being retforgotten bookurned to the warehouse and the hoped-for sales numbers plummeted, I felt sick. My publisher had taken such a risk on an unknown author, and I had not “delivered.” I thought, Maybe it was not God in the first place…maybe it was a distraction…maybe I could have spared them the hope and expense if I had declined….

Revising history.

But, the truth was that God had inspired Terri to ask me to write Pure Joy. The opportunity was God’s direction and not a distraction. And twelve years later, my publisher—who had not been a newbie to the collision of dreams and realities with new authors—and I are working together again on my next book.

Lived openly with God, disappointment is a rich mentor. Though I cannot speak to what lessons the journey gifted others, for me:

Jesus revealed the same tangible partnership in writing as we experienced when speaking together. (I am never alone when holding a mic…)

God opened the door for partnership with a literary agency (who championed finding a home for Anonymous: Jesus’ Hidden Years and Yours).

God uncovered my tendency to take on responsibility for fulfilling other’s benevolent but unrealistic expectations of me—something that, left unrecognized, would have crushed me.

And God taught me that His economy operates with a different definition of success.

One reader’s words convinced me that God will happily mobilize a village to encourage one beloved soul.

Just before Pure Joy went out of print, a dear woman contacted me to tell me her story. Her cherished child had died when only a few months old and the grief was overwhelming. When someone placed my book in her hands, she gasped and absorbed every word. She felt God had it written for her. Why? Because the name she had given her beautiful baby girl was Pure Joy.

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