all that glitters isn’t gold

I’ve spent a good portion of my life chasing.

Chasing performance. Chasing approval. Chasing credibility. Chasing my dreams.

One of my biggest dreams since I was a little girl was to be an author. A dream I believe that God put in my heart.

And then it happened. I co-authored my first book in 2015. I squealed when I went to the local Books-A-Million and found my book on the bookshelf.

I had a growing blog with my co-author that drew more than 30,000 views a month. But it never felt like enough. I needed to do more. I needed to be more. I wanted to get to the next level. Or it would all go away. I was miserable.

I remember telling God one day, “If this is how ministry has to be done, if this is what it means to be a writer, I’m out. Show me a different way.”

And He said, “Let it go.” What? “Let it go?!” But I had worked so hard. Really? Let it go?

Slowly He worked on my heart. When I finally “let it go,” He took my ministry in a completely different direction. I let go of the blog that was reaching thousands. I let go of trying to impress agents and publishers. I let go of trying to be the darling of the Internet.

Today, I have a blog I adore, but with a smaller audience. I’m self-publishing my next book. I’m no longer a slave to social media.

And I’m loving writing and ministry again.

God is bringing me to a deeper place in my relationship with Him. He is using my words. I’m not called to try to get millions to “Like” me. My job is to simply follow God’s leading and love and encourage the ones He puts in front of me.

Chasing worldly things will never bring us the happiness we think it will. I think of Olympic swimmer Michael Phelps.

[Tweet “My true identity is rooted in Christ’s mercy and sacrifice on the cross. Period. End of story.”]

He seemed to have everything. Incredible God-given talent. More gold medals than he could possibly wear around his neck at one time. Credibility. Approval. Dreams realized. The recognition and respect of the entire globe.

He had the world by the tail. He had reached the pinnacle of his sport. His talent had no rival in the pool.

And he considered taking his own life.

When we were discussing this story at dinner the other night, my teenage son’s eyes got wide. He couldn’t believe it. “Why would someone like Michael Phelps ever want to kill himself? He’s amazing.”

Despite all his achievements, Phelps didn’t see himself as amazing. In fact, he wasn’t sure who or what he was at all.

In an interview with ESPN, after his first retirement in 2012, he confessed that he struggled to “figure out who he was outside the pool.” He went on to say, “I was a train wreck. I was like a time bomb, waiting to go off. I had no self-esteem, no self-worth. There were times where I didn’t want to be here. It was not good. I felt lost.”

I don’t know if Michael Phelps has accepted Christ as Savior. I do know, from the reports I’ve read, that he didn’t begin to feel hope until a Christian friend reached out to him and told him that there was a God who loved him and had a purpose for his life.

As shiny and amazing as an Olympic gold is, it won’t last. It doesn’t satisfy. 

Should we strive for excellence? Of course! When we do things well, we reflect God’s character and His excellence.

But let’s quit chasing “fool’s good.” It glitters, but is ultimately worthless. My flesh craves recognition. But my heart? I want my heart to reflect God’s brilliance, not my own. 

Proverbs 27:21 says, “Fire tests the purity of silver and gold, but a person is tested by being praised.”

[Tweet “We will always be disappointed when we place chasing personal glory above pursuing the heart of God.”] 

Praise and recognition expose what’s in my heart. Does praise make me crave more recognition? Does it make me self-sufficient? Or does praise make me thankful? Is it inspiring me to be an even better steward of the gift God has given me? Does it make me aware that really all praise belongs to Him—the Giver of all our gifts?

I want to go for the gold in my pursuit of God. In how I treat people. In how I respond to adversity. In how I respond to success. In how I respond to the unexpected.

The pursuit of that kind of gold is of eternal value. What does going for the gold require?

It requires recognizing our true identity.

Phelps said, “I didn’t know who or what I was outside of the pool.” I can relate. So many times, I’ve not known who I was outside of my performance. I’ve used performance to earn my worth. I’ve taken credit instead of giving Him glory.

Regardless of what I do or feel, my true identity is rooted in Christ’s mercy and sacrifice on the cross. Period. End of story.

Ephesians 1:3 sums it up better than I ever could: “Blessed be God, the Father of our Lord Jesus the Anointed One, who grants us every spiritual blessing in these heavenly realms where we live in the Anointed—not because of anything we have done, but because of what He has done for us.” (VOICE)

It requires risk.

The mere thought of letting go of all things I had worked for put my stomach in knots. This was my dream. When I gave it up, I didn’t know if I’d ever write a book again. I had no idea what God had in mind for me at all.

But as I sought Him, as He worked on my heart, I came to a place where I could say with all of my being, “I just want You. Whatever that means. Wherever that takes me.”

I wish I could tell you that I’ve never left that place. I have. More times than I can count.

But the freedom and peace that I feel when my heart only wants what His does keeps drawing me back. There is nothing like it. It is worth the risk of letting go all of your dreams, friends.

It requires doing the hard thing even if no one else knows.

Behind earning Olympic gold is years of hard work in anonymity. Swimmers getting up at 4 a.m. to train. Track athletes running with no audience. No guarantees of a medal or recognition, but the glittering promise of gold drives them.

Our pursuit of gold has to drive us, too. We have to be willing to do the same. To make the choice to do those things we don’t always want to do because we know it is building our muscles. It is increasing our endurance. It is preparing us for bigger challenges. It is making us more like Christ.

What does that look like? Reading our Bibles, praying, going out of our way for others. Making even little sacrifices for our families or others that they might never recognize or appreciate. Forgiving instead of being resentful. Simply obeying—simply following God’s leading.

We will always be disappointed when we place chasing personal glory above pursuing the heart of God.

Let’s quit chasing and start following. 

The results will be golden.