Into the Fire

Once in a great while it would happen in horse racing. The very first investment in buying a horse produced a quality runner and brought the big bucks and a little fame to the ecstatic owners of this four-legged runner, aka a money machine. There’s a theory in racing that if a horse is “good” at a certain time in his career, whether he or she is young or old, keep running them. Usually with new owners, not always but usually, there is little concern for this horse because they have no knowledge of the myriad things that can go wrong with the animal through no fault of its own and more likely than not it’s through the fault of the trainer’s methods. These equine athletes suffer from stress, injuries, and the odd diseases just like human athletes, the difference being their communication skills are limited to lameness, lack of appetite, listless or radical behavior. My point here is not to give you a micro-lesson on horse racing. It’s to emphasize that the experience of finding, owning, racing, and succeeding with a horse can be a rare experience.

My husband always used to tell our clients: “It’s a luxury, not a necessity.” He wanted them to know up front that the average race horse owner doesn’t make money at it. He either determines to have fun with the experience or to make an early exit from the sport.

Sometimes I think the worst thing that can happen to some people is to be successful in their first effort at anything—if their success is major. Most people tend to forget or ignore the efforts, procedures, or gifting involved in immediate success. Those outside of faith decide they were at the right place at the right time and attribute it to the abstract and inconceivable “good luck”. But even with Christian people, when there is a rapid ascension to some kind of importance, they tend to think it had a lot to do with how and why they were able to achieve their accomplishment. Most of us have egos we either stifle, detest, feed, or employ in our efforts to “succeed”. That pride thing sneaks up on all of us and gives credit where it most certainly isn’t due.

I guess that’s why I’m offended at the platitudes in publishing. New authors fresh out of the writing blocks race to chant the mantra of how perseverance and great writing land publishing contracts . . . Giving instructions on blogs of how to write, the dogma of the rules, the necessities of conferences . . . C’mon. It’s no less offensive to me when the tried and true authors do the same thing, although much more palatable. They’re sharing their experiences, what they feel has helped them “succeed”.

But the odd thing I’ve noticed recently is that a few of the tried and true authors sound weary, emit subtle warnings about the peace “before publishing”, wonder quietly about the state of publishing and beyond their present contract(s). They’ve worked and labored over their books, their careers, and they know firsthand that “it don’t come easy”. No guarantees. Trends come and go. The public’s tastes and preferences change. Sales go up and sales go down—unpredictably. “Ridin’ high in April, shot down in May” becomes a reality which stirs just under the radar, making for shaky anticipations of future failures.

The old phrase about “paying your dues” used to mean something. Maybe it still does. It’s about apprenticeship, learning, evaluating progress, taking inventory, and gradually achieving what one has earned and worked for. Instant gratification has usurped many a philosophy about waiting, biding time while applying one’s skills, and “waiting for the opportune moment” as Captain Jack Sparrow advised.

You know it don’t come easy can be a blessing. It keeps us recognizing God’s hand in ordaining our steps, his patience in dealing with our impatience, his timing for allowing us to find humility which seems so foreign to success these days—even in or especially in the church, sadly.

Successful in the world’s eyes can differ radically from success in God’s eyes. We strive to take His view, but the glitz and glamour of the worldly ways often overtake our perspectives.

If it ain’t comin’ easy for ya, be blessed. Your perspective will be a whole lot more valuable in the end.

Father, we fuss and fume against waiting, against working and working to seemingly no end, but you never leave us in our efforts or in our frustrations. You provide at every level of our walk. We just always want more. Forgive me for my greed, impatience, selfishness, and general humanity. Help me to be the one you want me to be—to persevere to do what you want rather than for what I want. I ask it all in the Name of Jesus, Amen.