Audience of One
It was around our 8 year anniversary and I hit a wall emotionally. Exhausted, confused and weary from the journey of life thus far, I continued to grasp for answers that weren’t coming.
Those eight full years included: getting married, relocating from Austin, TX to New York City, starting a new role at my company, navigating life and forging community. For some added fun, my stomach swelled with two new lives during that time, we fully committed to a new church plant in the City, and I nervously released my career and embraced my full-time role at home.
My husband was balancing a Finance career alongside our growing family, in addition to shepherding the church administratively as the only non-staff Elder. Our days were filled with intense pressures of family life, ministry and tearful goodbyes; we watched families, deeply loved, move in waves like rip tides out of the city into various destinations across the ocean of states.
My daily gaze focused on dear friends as they moved on to bigger houses and a seemingly easier life near their families. I couldn’t help but feel left behind.
Was God truly aware of what was happening in our lives?
We had moved to New York City for our careers, and so with every year and each lease renewal, a cycle of discussion began that led to surrendering to different plans than initially envisioned. Though our hearts, our marriage, our family and our affections were being drastically refined, purified and tested, I still grasped for a reward of some kind.
There is a chance that a life in Manhattan on the Upper East Side with two children (soon to be three, then four) sounds dreamy. I understand from the outside many lives seem desirable. Aspects were undoubtedly; hindsight is incredibly clarifying.
Embarrassingly though, my vision to see the beauty of life before me was clouded by a stronger desire to see my situation change.
Then one evening in our living room with muted yellow light attempting to illuminate the 1,000 square foot apartment, my red eyes and flowing tears stared expectantly at my husband for answers.
What are we doing?
We had just found out his salary for the upcoming year was cut and though our convictions and family vision were both being clarified through the lens of our faith, nothing about our lives made sense on paper.
At this point, our decision to stay had nothing to do with the money or lack thereof. We had taken hold of a greater calling than the original resume building track, and while we did not feel ready to leave our community, our church or his career, nothing was getting easier. In fact, everything was compounding in difficulty.
My husband looked at me and spoke these words gently, though each word hung on an arrow that pierced my heart with such precision.
“We are called to a greater kingdom. If the only reward for the life we live on earth is heaven itself, can that be enough for you?”
Mic drop.
I told him it most definitely could and then everything was more simple afterwards; my heart filled with true and lasting joy and our marriage was forever strengthened.
Oh wait. No, that’s not what happened.
My heart continued to wrestle and to wait for life to become easier as a reward for “sacrifices made.” But, he was right.
If we never fully realize the reward we want for our lives lived on earth, it makes the journey no less valuable; with every loss, ‘no’, or ‘not yet’, it was actually an opportunity to say ‘yes’ to a bigger story.
For me, this ushered in a shifting of perspective.
What does life look like when you live for an audience of one? When you stop looking for that trophy, that upgrade or that prize and you begin to leverage everything you have for a life beyond the here and now.
Though undeniably difficult, if we really believe that our work on earth is for the glory of God and not our own, then our expectations for earthly reward and man’s praise loses it’s allure.
Will I choose to live for God or choose to live for man?
It’s that simple and yet the implications are varied and complex as we discern the primary motivation behind our decisions, our stewardship, our next steps.
The past several months of quarantine + COVID life have brought to surface a number of my deepest heart struggles once again. With the initial cancellation of events and celebrations, the ongoing confusion of “what now”, and the unsettling question marks of the future, I feel the importance of defining the “why” behind my life endeavors and personal commitments.
Many of you, like me, may have looked at your children recently and acknowledged through tears that we aren’t guaranteed the reward here. We may not experience the closure that we expected. Things may not get better for a while.
However, the best news is that the greater reward, over the picture of life we desire now, is the one to come. The one where we will all experience wholeness, fullness, and happiness for all eternity.
The Apostle Paul tells us we can’t serve two masters.
… “but just as we have been approved by God to be entrusted with the gospel, so we speak, not to please man, but to please God who tests our hearts. I Thessalonians 2:4
I can’t write merely to gain followers and claim to point people to something greater.
I can’t look to money to be my reward and trust in God to completely satisfy.
I can’t seek out man’s approval and be true to the convictions of my faith in Jesus.
I can’t determine my success as a parent solely on a college entrance exam and claim that God has a specific plan for each person.
I can’t value my self worth from the number on the scale and believe that I am loved just as I am.
Recognizing that our faith does in fact inform our daily thought life, our daily interactions and our daily pursuits, what would it look like for you to live for an audience of one?
Are you still looking for your reward here?
An easier life will always disappoint compared to a difficult life lived for a greater purpose. Therefore, let’s embrace the gift of suffering, come alongside one another and remind ourselves that the fight is worth it.
Know there is great freedom ahead; let us pursue this kind of life together.
