I didn’t set out to be an author.
I wanted to build a school in Africa for child soldiers.
If I wanted to bake cupcakes to sell, people would die.
I’ll stick with schools and words.
A friend of mine encouraged me to write a book, so I did. I figured if there were a couple of typos—no big deal. We sold way over a million of them and gave all the money away, so I wrote another book. I learned I’m much better at living stories than making sure all the punctuation is correct, so I have a few people in my life who love that sort of thing, and they helped me out. One of them is Jon, who is married to my daughter, Lindsey. Jon is an engineer, but that also means he’s really good with details, and he really likes grammar. (I still don’t understand why, but I’m thankful nonetheless.) Jon would read my words and graciously fix all the errors I made. He didn’t point out each one and shake his head in disapproval. He just took what I wrote and made it better.
I used to think God was like an editor trying to find all the typos in my life, standing over my shoulder like a schoolmarm ready to whack me on the knuckles with a yardstick. But I’ve learned that God isn’t an editor; He’s a creator.
He’s not giving us the hairy eyeball when we make mistakes. He’s pointing toward the horizon with a gleam in His eye and asking us to lift our eyes up toward a better story. He wants to tell a story of redemption. Of everyone He could use to tell it, He’s made you one of the main characters. He wants you to keep your eyes on Him.
If there’s a typo or two on a couple of pages of your life, don’t obsess over it.
Keep writing. God’s got this. He’ll help you make the changes you need to make, but His purpose for your life is much bigger than giving you a failing grade.