Nothing to show but my obedience to the Lord
Made Known: notes from my 2026 Created Conference talk
Last year, I attended Created for the first time, a conference in Columbus, OH, co-founded by Joe Deptowicz and Jeremy Slagle. “[It] is a one-day gathering where artists, designers, writers, filmmakers, and creatives of all types join together as a vibrant community to hear inspiring talks, panel discussions, and learn from a collective of fellow creators.”
I met Jeremy at another conference, Creative South, where we were also speakers the same year.
Anyway, about halfway through the day at Created last year, I got pretty distracted. I had this gut feeling that whenever I saw Jeremy, he was going to ask me to be a speaker. Mind you, he had no idea I was coming, and we hadn’t seen each other in a few years.
Later, at the after-party, I had a chance to say hello, and I believe his first few sentences were, “So glad you could make it! Did you have a good day? Do you want to speak next year?”
I thought, “Yes, perfect!”
But for that to make sense, we’ve got to weave back in time a bit—stay with me here. I don’t think God works in straight lines very often anyway. (Which is probably why minimalism is so depressing)
Let me bring you up to speed on what I’ve been up to since school. Whatever you’re expecting, you’re probably wrong.
Welcome to my very serious career timeline:
Baker
Barn maintenance
Full-time illustrator
Executive assistant to the owner of an asphalt paving company who also raised deer on the side for fun (Now he has longhorns instead. Yes, it's true. No, I don’t know why he couldn’t just take up pickleball or something.)
Horse riding instructor
During all of that, I have always dabbled in freelance graphic design on the side. Old faithful.
It’s a wild mix, I know, but I’ve tried my best to listen to how and where the Lord is leading me. When He says, “You’re done,” I’m done.
I don’t want to bore you with all the details, but when the Lord called me out of my last job (as assistant to the so on and so forth), I listened. However, there was a lot of complaining and skepticism involved.
When life seasons shifted in the past, there had always been a plan or at least the shape of one on the horizon. This time, there was none of that.
But I still wanted to be obedient.
Let me tell you what’s worse than telling your bosses, “I’m quitting.”
It’s telling them, “I’m quitting without a plan.”
That practically screams, “Being unemployed is better than being here!”
Thankfully, they’re believers and were understanding and supportive. Looking back, the business was changing, and my role probably wouldn’t be necessary in the near future.
I thought I was being generous and offered one month’s notice. An offer that was countered with, “How about next Thursday?”
In a blink, this month of preparation (and paychecks) I was expecting turned into one week. I don’t know why I was worried… Scripture gives us plenty of evidence that one week is more than enough time for the Lord to work.
During one of those last days in the office, refreshing my email for the hundredth time, I was wrestling with the Lord, still trying to piece together what was next.
Very quietly, He seemed to suggest, “What about your book?”
And I thought, “Lol, what about it? And anyway, it’s not really anything, let alone a book.”
“It could be.”
Oh, I’m gonna be sick.
You see, as a young teen, I had loosely messed around with writing a novel. I knew how it was supposed to start and end. It was just that bit in the middle—most people call that part the book—that I couldn’t ever piece together.
But then life got harder in ways my family never expected, in the form of injury, death, and chronic illness. The book was forgotten and left to collect dust for nearly ten years.
This is where I began to realize the Lord had not forgotten this work—these dreams—that I had. My life, work, and heart were not separate concepts to Him.
So I left my job to write a novel!
Which is all very dramatic and aesthetic—
—in theory.
And not at all in practice.
I did have other work trickle in at that time: occasional freelance design and also a job teaching horse-riding lessons.
I am, at my core, a horse girl.
If you’ve ever seen me and thought, “I knew it,” please don’t tell me.
That’s like asking someone, “You were home-schooled, weren’t you?”
Which I also was for a time…
I’m almost certain I made every step of writing a novel more complicated than it needed to be.
Most notably, I wrote the entire thing in secret. No outside influence or input. It was me wrestling through this process with the Lord.
Really, I invited Him in because I was thinking, “This was your idea. You tell me how to do it!”
And I’ll tell you what, I’ve never had prayers answered faster in my life.
And it was mind-blowing. These things I was asking for seemed too tedious and unnecessary. They seemed so removed from “real life,” and He still cared.
In “real life,” however, my mom has been battling the effects of Lyme disease and RA for nearly 15 years. And just before I left my job, we didn’t know the pain was about to skyrocket, or that she would suffer a stroke, which led to finding out there had been others prior. While there isn’t much visible damage from those, it’s the sorta thing that makes you go, “What the hell?” Because it feels like that’s where it all came from.
The Lord knew it would be a difficult thing for me to have a “real job” during this time. I needed to be available to help, whether that be in things around the house or traveling out of state for medical treatments.
I am not as patient or gracious as you ought to be. It has been its own kind of refining.
But even so, the Lord gave me this flexible gift of writing during this time.
While He demonstrated such care and gentleness for my heart, I have never felt more exposed. Really, I should say I had never felt more seen by the Lord; He was just seeing things I hadn’t wanted to uncover.
Phrases and sentiments I’d penned as fiction, simply because they fit the story, began rearing their heads in my quiet time with the Lord, revealing doubts or pressure points I didn’t know I had. Demands, doubts, longings, apologies, even. And a longer list that I don’t have the time to list here.
It quite literally fills a book.
We are far enough in now that I should bring you into my confidence even further and explain what I’ve written.
I have authored a fantasy novel which explores themes of friendship, duty, and the grief of unmet expectations.
Childhood friends, separated by what they believed was death, reunite as adults; one a nomad with a murderous streak, the other a cynical officer. The choice is simple: accept that the other has changed—and not for the better—or part ways for good.
The old life is gone. You can’t resurrect the past.
It took exactly one year to complete my first draft. After a rough edit, seven copies were printed and bound, and shared with select friends and family.
That made it real.
It also made me have a complete breakdown.
The train of thought chugged along like this:
What if it’s not good?
Surely, the Lord wouldn’t have me write a bad book?
Oh my gosh, maybe this is how he’s going to deal with my pride and humble me.
No, no. It’s fine.
I did what he asked.
I put my heart and soul into this.
I just handed over my heart and soul.
Oh, I’m gonna be sick.
Inevitably, I’d circle back to “What if it’s not good?”
As I briefly mentioned, the entire year that I was writing my first draft, I was teaching horse riding lessons. Abruptly, just as my book was being completed, the barn closed, and they sold the horses and property, and that chapter was torn away.
The final day of lessons, I turned the last two horses out and sat down in the pasture and cried. Dusty, sweaty, teary. And then, the devastating cherry on top, one of the horses started calling to his friends that had already been sold and taken away. Then I really began to weep.
This was a new and foreign frailty.
It felt like everything was being stripped away or like a light was shining on my most intimate shortcomings. If that sounds dramatic, imagine how I felt. Still, feelings lie… and sometimes we like to let them.
During one of my book-related spirals, I was back on the “What if it’s not good?” train.
And in the midst of my *crying noises*, my mom—who has made sure that chronic illness doesn’t get in the way of a listening ear—asked me, “Is that picture good?”
Hung up on the fridge was a ripped-out coloring page that one of my girls had given me. They are colored to reflect all the horses from the barn.
Was it good?
I knew what she meant, which, of course, led to more weeping.
It was good.
Not because it followed any technical color theory, let alone stayed in the lines.
But because the little girl loved me and was compelled to create something for me. A reflection of something we shared and appreciated. Something we toiled over in our own ways.
Her as a student. Me as a teacher.
I was good, not because of the craft, but because of the care.
That is what the Lord was doing: reframing my point of view and challenging the why rather than the what. I had never created things that blatantly went against Him, but I hadn’t exactly invited Him into my process either.
He put the book back into my hands, knowing what this season of life would lead to, and knowing there was an opportunity to lean into Him even more.
So, one draft turned into now seven. And my word count has fluctuated anywhere from 0 to 101k…
There were other sweet ways to use the gifts the Lord has given me. And as a multi-passionate—I hear the kids are using this term in place of I-have-too-many-hobbies—anyway, as a creative, there’s opportunity to have fun.
Like these illustrations or the concept of a book cover that gets a little more refined.
Unfortunately, I’m considering a title change, so it’ll look different by the time it’s on bookshelves. Which feels like a crazy thing to say considering no one knew it existed a year ago.
Not even Jeremy when he asked me to speak this year.
But when he asked, I thought, “Yes, perfect!” Because I knew immediately that I would be sharing this process of being in partnership with the Lord. I knew how impactful it has been to me.
I just thought I’d have more to show for it.
I was unrealistically hopeful that I’d have a book deal by this point. And if not, I was more realistically hopeful that I’d have an agent. When neither happened, I applied for a storytellers fellowship that I was banking on. Something to give me credibility.
And the closer I got to the conference date, the more I wrestled with my pride over this idea that “All I have to show for myself is my obedience to the Lord.”
And why wouldn’t that be enough?
So I’m left to think, “Lord, this is why you had me do it”
To lose to my flesh and be won over by you.
Hear me, I’m not saying that following the Lord is all disappointment and a tearing away. But sometimes the gift is a “removal,” cleaning house; letting out the stale air and breathing in a new life.
There’s still a piece of my flesh wishing I had something to offer other than my honesty.
Some call to action like “preorder my book” or “join my mailing list.”
And it’s probably for the best that I don’t.
Right now the Lord is concerned with my heart and the work being done.
This process, and my striving, does not surprise Him because He made me, having already known me.
And the same goes for you.
In his essay/address The Weight of Glory, C. S. Lewis has a quote that says,
“If God is satisfied with the work, the work can be satisfied with itself.”
I’m not saying this book of mine is infallible. But I’ve had to constantly surrender it to the Lord.
He knows the work set before you.
He knows your strengths and shortcomings.
He just wants you to invite Him into the process.
A huge thank you again to Joe and Jeremy for having me. (And props to the entire team! The whole day ran so smoothly, and the effort and attention do not go unnoticed.)
