But You’re Not THAT Good

Dreams of a Child

“Thank you for coming,” I doodled in a conversation bubble in my journal. I then moved my pencil down and finished the stick figure who sat behind a table stacked with books. Underneath the illustration I described my first book signing and dreamed ginormous, kid-sized, whole-hearted dreams.

Even as a kid, I dreamed of writing books and becoming an author.  I knew writing fulfilled me and could take me places I could never visit in real life. Over the years I’ve created and visited innumerable imaginary worlds and disappeared there for seasons of time. Words are a part of me. Words are what I do.

Dreams Coming True

This week, that dream of a twelve-year-old kid came true. Twice. Two of the books I’ve written, published by different companies, were released the same week. The emotions are big and overwhelming and range from exhilaration to fear and everything in between.

As a result of the books coming out, I had two interviews lined up for this week. I knew both of them would want to know my back story for writing—and that would require sharing about a season of habitual sin, which led to addiction, then confrontation, and finally Christian counseling. It’s one thing sitting down with a friend at lunch and sharing my heart and hoping God uses me to help in the healing process; but it’s a whole other level of honesty and vulnerability putting my junk out there for the world to see.

I called my best friend and we sat on my porch wading through the possible questions and directions the interviews might go. She helped me with wording, and we walked through different concepts, thoughts, and ideas. As we talked, my nervousness was evident, and tears soon rolled down my cheeks. Writing is my heart, and these books are little pieces of my heart floating around for others to read. As I shared with my friend, I recognized how vulnerable I felt, not just about writing but sharing the whys with a bunch of strangers.

The Reality of My Dream

My soul stirred deeply as I remembered the season of Christian counseling. I was a Christian. Regular church attender. Leader. Teacher. I said and did all the right things on the outside. But on the inside, I was broken and like the whitewashed tombs Jesus compared the Pharisees to—beautiful on the outside but filled with dead man’s bones on the inside. As I remembered that season of healing and deep, heart-felt journaling, God showed me the importance of transparency in my interviews. This message was intended for someone—even if only one.

Then I thought about the people sitting on pews in our churches. They show up every Sunday and serve their hearts out for the cause of Christ. Mamas and daddies trying to raise their families right. Doing and saying all the correct things. But like me, they have deep, hidden secrets and struggles. Sins. Shameful pasts. Addictions. Questions. Hurts. Comparisons. And they are going about their everyday lives wearing masks, covering the broken places, and trying desperately to figure out this “Christian life thing”.

As I ended up going to vulnerable places in those interviews and with my friend, I recalled a deal I made with God. If you will heal me and make me whole, I will do whatever you ask me to do, and share anything with anyone if it means that even one person will be set free.

Those words are the motivation behind sharing my junk. If we don’t let others see our broken, they won’t know it’s okay to share theirs. If we don’t lower our masks, then others will never know it’s okay to lower theirs. If we don’t model authenticity, we will miss out on the life God designed for believers in this land of “one-anothering”.

But I’m Not THAT Good

As my friend and I talked on the porch, I told her how desperately I wanted others to experience God the way I have experienced him. I want others to learn about him and be challenged in all that I write, whether it’s an adult inspirational piece or an adventurous kid’s book.

Like good friends usually do, she encouraged me and told me how amazing it was that my writing hit her each week in a deep spiritual place. Then her next phrase stung for just a second, but then it humbled me to the core. “You’re good, but you’re not THAT good.” I’m good. But I’m not THAT good.

Without God, I’m a good writer. I have a natural bent for words and can string sentences together with fluidity and clarity. Without God, many of us are good writers, teachers, singers, artists, leaders, mechanics, builders, and parents. But with God, each one of us becomes dynamic. Influential. Phenomenal. Impactful. Powerful. Motivational. Miraculous. And life-changing.

As I look back at the opportunities this week to share about the Lord and all he has done, I’m pretty okay with just being good, because none of us will ever be THAT good unless we fully surrender our lives to God in everything we do.

But, then again, I don’t want to just be good, do you? I want to be THAT good and know it’s only because of Jesus working in me that I’m anything at all. It reminds me of an old hymn we sang when I was a kid : Without Him, written by Mylon LeFevre. The words he wrote so many years ago resound in my soul. And I know that without God I truly can do nothing.

Without Jesus, people are only people. Writers are only writers. Teachers are only teachers.

But with him, people can be life-changers. Writers can be heart-menders. And teachers can be mountain-movers. With him, we can all be THAT good. He makes all the difference.

© Christy Bass Adams, September 2022

All pictures from Canva

Christy Bass Adams

Christy Bass Adams, is the Outreach and Connections Coordinator at Fellowship Baptist Church in Madison, Florida. She is also a writer and had her first devotional book published in summer of 2022 (Big Lessons from Little People) followed by a middle grades novel (Imagination Checkers) in the fall. Her most important role, however, is with her family as a wife of 18 years and mother to two busy boys. She worked in education for over 18 years at both the elementary and collegiate levels. Her favorite pastimes are fishing and sitting around a fire. For more from Christy, visit her blog at christybassadams.com.

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5 comments

  1. Love how you said, “But with God, each one of us becomes dynamic. Influential. Phenomenal. Impactful. Powerful. Motivational. Miraculous. And life-changing.” Yes, your transparency will be used by God to break the yoke of bondage off of many! Thank you for being courageous.
    And congratulations on your two book launches! You are now seeing the fruit of staying the course.

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