The empty god

Or “Ambition, idolatry, and learning to surrender the work I love”

I love being a writer. I’ve been one nearly all my life, with only a few short lapses here and there. But I’ve written, and told stories, for as long as I’ve had the ability to communicate.

And I’ve been privileged to have the opportunity to do this as my life’s work. To write and publish—that was my dream for all of my life. And when that dream started becoming a repeating reality, it triggered something in me.

And… not something great.

I have always tried to commit everything I do to God. My life, my relationships, and my work. But somewhere along the way, something about the way I come to my work changed. It shifted from being something I did because I loved it to being something I did as a hustle. Something I did because “this is how you become a success.”

I didn’t have a clear definition of that “success,” except I knew it involved a lot of money, a lot of swag, and a lot of notoriety.

Rich and famous.

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Nothing wrong with either of those things. Nothing wrong with trying to be successful in what you do. But there is this fracture point—this moment where the landscape of your life breaks open, like continental drift, and a line is formed. A ravine. A fissure.

On one side is that sweet, nostalgic, good work you did. The good reasons you got into all this. The good you served in doing it.

On the other… darkness. Arrogance. Greed, perhaps, or at the very least a deep form of materialism.

Idolatry.

I didn’t see it, for a long time. Not until recently. Until now, essentially. But I was, sad to say, worshiping an idol. My dream, as much as I loved it and served it and obsessed over it, had become a false god.

I didn’t intend it to be. Of course not. But consider…

Every moment of every day, I spent my time thinking about that work. I spent every day setting aside every other thing for it. I stopped any and all activities that brought me joy—no video games, barely reading books for pleasure anymore, even skipping out on television shows and movies I loved. Worse, I avoided people. Ditched out of parties and events, whenever I could. Canceled on plans. And when I did have to go and be among the three-dimensional people, it was about the work. It was in service to the writing. Or my writing career, in fact.

My life became a sacrifice and a service to this terrible, mindless god, who could never reward me for my loyalty.

Now that I see it…

Well, what do I do now?

My answer, so far, after prayer and seeking out God’s wisdom on it, is move forward with whatever God puts in my path. Even if it’s something I wouldn’t have wanted, I give the wheel to God. He steers. He directs my steps. He lights my way. I make all I do an obsessive service to God.

And I keep writing. I keep publishing. I keep creating.

Not because I’m still obsessing. But because God really did give me the ability, the skill, the talent to do this work, and I can see how it serves His plans and His purpose. Now, anyway. I can see it now, and how it always did, even when I was worshiping in the wrong direction.

I stop obsessing, that’s what. I stop worrying about whether I’m writing enough, marketing enough, publishing enough, podcasting enough, producing enough. I stop worrying about being enough.

I start trusting that God is enough. In all ways. In all things. At all times.

I surrender. I rest and let God fight. I accept the peace that surpasses all understanding, trusting… trusting… that Christ was telling the truth. That He has overcome the world.

What does this mean for this Substack? For my YouTube channel? For my novels and short stories?

It means that whatever I do, I’m doing it for God. So… I’m pretty sure that means it will keep going, keep being fruitful.

But that growth will no longer be the point. He will. And you will.

God bless you, and we will see each other in the little negative spaces between letters and words. That gap where God lives, and invites us to live, too.

HERE’S HOW YOU CAN SUPPORT ME

There are several ways, and I’m grateful for any or all of them. And if you’re asking, “Why should I support Kevin Tumlinson,” my answer is this: So that I can continue to serve God and serve you, and serve those yet to come, with the work I produce.

BUY A BOOK: Find all my novels at https://kevintumlinson.com

BECOME A PAID SUBSCRIBER: Right here on Substack.

A NOTE AT THE END

It’s weird… I sometimes cringe when I think about writing or talking about my faith. Why is that? It’s such an important part of me and my life. It’s the thing. The center and the core of who I am. It should be, if sometimes I slip.

I think that maybe I’m worried that I’ll become “That Guy.” Identified by others with some label that they give to people they think are crazy or offensive or some other negative thing.

That’s a cross I’ll have to learn to bear. Because my faith really is central to who I am. Even if it hasn’t always been.

I love writing because God gave me the ability to do it, and do it well. Like every writer, I sometimes doubt my own skill. I suffer imposter syndrome. I feel like a failure.

But that’s the idolatry talking.

If what you do is something you love, that excites you and impassions you, that creates good in the world—if you do it for God, even if nothing else ever comes of it, that’s worship.

If you do it because it’s all you can think about, you’ve obsessed over it, your every waking moment is spent in service to it, to the exclusion of your relationships and everything else… well, that’s idolatry.

You don’t even have to be “religious” to get this, or to benefit from it. Even if you’re not a “believer,” you should see it. Or you can see it. Idolatry is “bad,” not simply because you’re “serving other gods before the God.” It’s “bad” because it robs you of all the joy and all the goodness of the thing you love. It makes this thing your master, instead of you mastering it. Instead of you using it to produce something good in the world, you’re letting it use you.

And since it has no mind, no heart, no soul, no matter what it is—this thing you serve with an obsession, this false idol, can never, ever bring you what you want from it. You will never know joy. You will never be free.

That’s what idolatry really means. That’s why God says not to do it.

Giving your life to a dream won’t bring you the dream.