When Feeling Hidden Starts to Hurt

I got a “normal job.”

I don’t know why it’s kind of embarrassing to write that since it’s the most normal thing in the world to have a job... LOL I guess it’s because I always thought I’d be farther along by now, closer to where I want to be, or more grounded with total clarity about what I’m supposed to do with my life. (Also maybe it’s because I’m almost 30 and this is just some sort of existential crisis due to exiting my 20s?)

Regardless, I started feeling like a failure. I published my first book at 19 years old, then my second at 21, then traveled the world and started creating content on social media, and now my podcast. I’ve been chasing my wild God-dreams full force (with plenty of twists and turns along the way, of course). But then I started noticing my friends who were pursuing similar paths growing more quickly than me, building platforms and communities and businesses. And I remained a stay-at-home-mom with big dreams I’m convinced are from God.

Can I be really honest? As much as we hear the idea of being “hidden” in faith circles talked about as a blessing and a gift, it kind of hurts. Like, a lot. Maybe it’s just me — after all, I am an enneagram 3 and slightly obsessed with performance and achievement. (I’m not saying that’s an excuse, but I admit it’s in my wiring and is a constant struggle for me.)

Forgive me if this sounds entirely self-absorbed and self-righteous, but I truly believe God has called me to these big, wild dreams I’ve got swirling around in my heart. I’m willing to do the work, to be disciplined, to remain committed in seasons of waiting and refinement and struggle. I feel like the Holy Spirit in me enables me to do these things well…but am I just totally overestimating myself?

Okay, that was also a little embarrassing to actually write out for you to read. Maybe reading that level of honesty made you cringe on my behalf, or maybe you can relate.

I started pursuing God’s will for my life wholeheartedly nearly a decade ago. And yesterday I clocked in for my first shift at a retail job in the mall.

If I can continue with the cringey honesty, I feel painfully hidden in this season. I feel the ache of holding my dreams close, but with an open hand because I recognize that even though they are a gift from God for my life, they are still entirely His — His timeline, His purpose, His higher plans, and ultimately His glory.

I want to be able to lean back and rest deeply in the comfort that comes from being hidden in Christ like David writes about in the Psalms. I want it to be easy. I want to want that.

Is craving greatness and the achievement of those big dreams a sin? I don’t think so. But I keep being reminded of how Jesus talked about being great when the disciples asked that same question in Matthew 20, explaining that whoever wants to lead must be a servant. (I think we can agree that our culture has warped our perspective of purpose and greatness.)

I’ll admit, when I was walking into the mall for work last night, I felt like a child. But then it hit me that it’s not childish to bend our will for God’s best; it’s childlike. And that’s the posture He most desires for us because it’s the best position to receive His goodness without feeling like we have to earn it or jump through hoops for His favor.

There is nothing about this season I’m in that makes me look impressive. Being hidden is hard, and yes it is a precious gift from God to be held close. But the more I think about it, these are also the best kinds of seasons for miracles — when there’s absolutely no way I could take credit for the greatness. No way I could claim to have hustled my way into success or performed my Christian duties perfectly enough to merit God’s favor.

And on top of that, I’m moving at a slow enough pace that I don’t miss them. I think that is the real gift.

Maybe we get restless in hiddenness after a while, like a baby being wrapped tightly in a cozy swaddle without a care in the world, then suddenly fighting the stillness to break free.

I don’t really have a conclusion here, since this is very much the reality of my faith today. But since sharing bits of this season with you on social media, so many of you have reached out and said that you relate. You aren’t alone if you’re feeling ready for the next thing, the breakthrough, or the big moment when you finally get to step into that sweet spot of living in all you feel God has created you for.

So let me leave you with this reminder that the Holy Spirit continually brings to the front of my mind:
Waiting is not a punishment, it’s preparation and protection.

It’s not about what you’re doing wrong or what you missed. It could simply be that God loves you and doesn’t mind going at a slower pace. Like going for a walk with a child, it doesn’t have to be productive to be meaningful.

So here’s to finding peace in the slow, hidden season and rediscovering the childlike trust in God’s goodness apart from how good we are.

Here’s to doing ministry in a fitting room at the mall, in the middle of the night as we nurse our babies, while we sit in classrooms, fold the laundry, commune with God on our commutes to work, and all the tiny hidden moments in between.

Let us not rush forward before we see God’s goodness and love for us right here in the middle.