So, I’m feeling a bit adrift. Anyone else? It’s Lent. I should be super connected to Jesus, and understand His purpose for me, right? LOL. Maybe. But I don’t.

See, I wrote this book last year that I wanted to publish. I took it to a women’s writing conference. Presented it. But rather than discuss the book, we talked about my social media presence, and how if I wanted to sell it, I had to up my numbers. And that kinda burst my bubble a bit. Because I am very concerned about the book, its content, and whether or not I’m saying the right thing. That’s what I wanted to talk about. I don’t care about my social media presence. Obviously, based on how inconsistent I am LOL. I care about not driving someone away from Jesus by being too crass.

So, my book sat. And sat. And I did nothing with it. Then, I joined Compel, a writing group for Christian writers, mostly women, hoping to find a mentor. Someone to guide me. But I haven’t found that. I’ve found courses about publishing, which I already have a pretty firm handle on, and encouraging posts on Facebook, but that’s about it.

In desperation, I emailed another author and radio personality that I respect deeply. I poorly crafted a letter asking her to take a look at my book. She hasn’t answered. Naturally. I didn’t expect her to, particularly after I thought of all the brilliant things I should have said after I hit send. But I’m left, well, adrift.

What do you do when you’re adrift? How do you find your mooring again? No, that wasn’t hypothetical. I’m legit asking LOL.

God’s people were seemingly left adrift multiple times in the Bible. They wandered in the wilderness for 40 years. Noah literally drifted for 40 days. (Coincidence in the numbers? You’d have to ask a scholar, which I am definitely not.)

And in hindsight, there’s a lesson to be gained from their wandering. That God was always with them. That though their faith waivered, God didn’t. He always had a purpose. And boy do I long to know what that is in the moment.

I’m like Simon, in The Chosen. Have you guys watched that? Amazing show. But, like Simon, I have no chill. I want to be in on everything. I want to help. I want to get my hands dirty right here, right now. And when things don’t go well, there’s that no chill again. So maybe this season is about learning to chill. But, to my credit, I have been doing that since October so…

Lots of good Christian people (again, I don’t pretend to call myself this) will say if you’re close to Jesus, you are never lost. He is with you. He leaves the 99 to chase you. But what happens to the 99 while He’s doing that?

Because I haven’t wandered away from Him. I’m still here. But it seems like He’s gone silent with what He wants from me. A way has not been made. I’ve asked for help, and none has come. So now what? Abandon the project completely? I don’t love that idea. Publish it on my own, blindly, without the guidance of someone wiser, who’s been through it before? Don’t love that either. There’s too much at stake. It isn’t like when I published fiction and learned from my mistakes. Mistakes here could have a rather lasting impact.

So, this is what I’m doing. I’m whining online because I don’t know what else to do. I’m not one of those people that hears the voice of God guiding me. In fact, I don’t feel His peace when I pray. I’m a very anxious person. There is always something to worry about, can I get an amen from my fellow anxiety folks? LOL. No, maybe not. That’s probably blasphemy of some kind.

That’s not to say I don’t see His blessings everywhere. When the person in front of me is texting and driving and crosses over the center line, completely into oncoming traffic, and doesn’t get hit, I thank Jesus loudly. (Guys, don’t text and drive. That happened in town, not on the highway. With two different cars. It would’ve been bad. God is good.) When I see my daughter joyfully nailing a new dive, I thank God for her coach, and the team that helped her find her passion. When I’m snuggling with my dog, I thank God for him, because our other two are gone and I miss them terribly which makes me even more grateful for the time I have with Nacho.

And why isn’t that enough? That’s a great question, let’s go to commercial. Whew, so glad I didn’t have to answer tha—oh you’re still here. Gratitude is enough. Or, it should be. But I’m needy. Are you? And right now, it isn’t what I think I need. I’d like some firm direction. A clear command. Those people who get clear commands and disobey, I want to shake you. YOU GOT CLEAR DIRECTION! Like Jonah. Dude. Man up and just go to Nineveh. Make it work! But alas, that’s not who we humans are.

I know I need help with this project. I felt called to write the book, and now I need help bringing it to life. I don’t know about you, but I hate asking for help. Seems like when I do, I can easily feel like a burden, even if that wasn’t at ALL intended. Because I hate needing help. It makes me feel weak. But we were never meant to be solitary. And in fact, when I took that spiritual gifts test, mine is the gift of helps. I LOVE helping others. So why is it hard to ask for help? Because I’m weird. LOL. Because I’m controlling, and when I need help, I’m declaring I’m not in control. I can own that. Sound familiar?

We are to “carry each other’s burdens,” Galatians 6:2. That doesn’t mean I carry mine, and yours. It means we share. I don’t love this idea. Why would you share with me once you’ve seen my weaknesses?

Because, we’re the same. Because together, we are stronger. Because we are to “outdo one another with showing honor,” Romans 12:10. And I do love a good competition. But in order to get my turn at the game, I have to let you help.

So, I’m learning to receive. I’m bad at it. But when I ask for help and none comes, I despair. And I’m working on that too.

What do you need help with? Do you find it hard to ask for help? Is there something I can do? Distract me from my own waywardness, won’t you? LOL.