I’ve recently begun reading Bob Goff’s newest book Dream Big. I’ve read all his books, taken his author course, and thoroughly enjoyed every bit. I find him to be one of the most inspiring people to ever walk this earth with his servant heart and bold approach to the throne. In reading his latest book, I’ve been faced with a sort of existential crisis. You can't really read a book about dreaming big and not look down the scope of your own. Do I want to be a writer? Yes, I do. But am I supposed to be one? What does God want me to do? Is this what I want or is this what he wants? Could they be one in the same or am I pushing God’s plans straight out of my way with my own ambitions? How do I reconcile what I want to do with my purpose in Christ?
Apathy is probably one of the larger thorns in my side. I can remember certain times of life where it’s plagued me and while I became aware of it at least enough to give it a name, I’ve never known how to combat it. Can you relate? It gets all wrapped around my purpose, my worth, my calling. I don’t think it’s necessarily bad to reassess from time to time, because we are Christs’ servants. When truly viewing life through the scope of a servant, a servant must report back often for the next assignment, wages, tasks, everything. They must know their master well. They are indebted for whatever reason to him. Most often it is not by choice as it is with those of us in Christ, but I think we can still draw a good enough parallel. To cut off our communication with him would be obviously ridiculous when we regard ourselves in this light. And it’s also important to note that no blog post can replace personal prayer in our lives. But in this reassessment, it doesn't have to mean we stop our progress.
I’ve been struggling with it again lately. I’m chasing my dreams, signing up for courses, reaching out for help, writing every chance I get, and reading a book called Dream Big so… why the sudden apathy? Having to face it in order to keep moving, I’ve learned some things. So, let’s settle this right here together. What is it that God has asked of us? What is that he wants from you and from me?
It’s impossible to move on without stating first the Great Commission that Jesus left with his followers and therefore us as well. His words were to “go and make disciples of all nations,” (by the way, that means America, too). He said to do this by baptizing them and teaching them to obey him, and then he stated these parting words that hold so much power: “And surely I am with you always, to the end of the age.” Therefore, we know that our purpose on earth is to point as many to Christ as possible, both with our words and our lives.
From here, there are innumerable opinions on how this should be done and that’s fine—great actually. I want to talk about why and take a look into our own ambitions as well.
Just as we can’t talk about our purpose without speaking of the Great Commission, I think it would be empty for us to talk about apathy and ambition without studying the Parable of the Three Servants. It’s found in the middle of Matthew 25, and it is an illustration for “the Kingdom of Heaven.” The master represents God and the servants represent us and more acutely, our choices. To set the scene, the very first line says it’s the story of “a man going on a long trip.” A trip where he must leave behind his work, estate, and money. So, he allots to these three servants various amounts: 5 bags of silver to the first, 2 bags to the second, and one bag to the last. He doesn’t give orders but hands out the silver (aka ‘talents’ in Greek), and then he leaves.
This is my worst nightmare. I like real clear directions. Clear directions means clear expectations. What to do, what is right, and how to please. I don’t know if you’re familiar with this story, but already I know exactly who I would be. The first two servants use their talents (or silver) for investments or work and end up with double what they were given. The last servant (yep that’s me) “dug a hole in the ground and hid the master’s money.” When it came time for them to give an account to the master, to the first two who had doubled what they were given, he gives the famous words all our souls long to hear: “Well done, my good and faithful servant.” The last one steps forward and gives his report. He says, “I was afraid I would lose your money, so I hid it in the earth. Look here is your money back.” To this, he does not receive a “well done,” but is actually characterized as a “wicked and lazy servant.” Ouch. At first glance, perhaps this seems harsh, but maybe it’s more to do with the servant’s heart and intent that influenced his actions—or lack thereof.
When he says he was afraid, I believe from personal experience that this servant was more afraid for himself than he cared to further his master’s estate. He sought self-preservation above what would serve his master. His fear was wrapped up mainly in what his master would think, but the focus was still on his own interests, never sacrificing for the greater good. His view was on himself and his own well-being above that of his masters’ or how his actions would reflect on his master who had entrusted these talents. And that’s an important detail. No, the master does not leave directions, but he does imply a healthy amount of trust when he places any amount of talents into this servant’s hands. The point wasn’t for the servant to hold them and know that he had them, but to do something good with them. Look, God doesn't want his change back. He wants to see change happen. In the end, in order to be called a faithful servant, one must be so. Faithful to God and faithful to the mission.
Deep down, this is what we want. We want to be faithful. I never want to go in a direction or enter a path in which I feel the Lord is not permitting me to go. However, maybe part of growing into a good and faithful servant means he trusts us to make larger decisions with the full intent of reflecting his name. Like the servants with the talents, he doesn’t clarify what to do with them, but he does expect them to do something. Maybe the fact that he has placed them in our hands is the confirming seal of trust that we are to move forward. And burying them is not a viable option. It wasn’t in this story and it isn’t in our own. In my life, what might burying my talents look like? Because I think it could look like allowing apathy to swallow my ambition or fear of the unknown to stop my progress. I think both scenarios have the immense potential to move me towards putting my talents in a hole and covering them, safe from failure, protected from getting it wrong, and hidden from others’ perusal.
Maybe the fact that he has placed them in our hands is the confirming seal of trust that we are to move forward. And burying them is not a viable option.
Here’s the thing. A lot of us struggle with the question am I doing this for God or for myself? Well, if you feel you feel affirmed in having a talent and still feel inclined toward hiding it, you aren’t hiding for God and you certainly aren’t hiding it from him. My father in law and pastor Bill Dye recently said, “Life is not a dress rehearsal.” Nothing is more sobering yet encouraging than that thought. Not only are our lives not dress rehearsals, but neither are the others we encounter. Let’s stop self-preserving and start doing whatever it is we can within our power to point people to God. Instead of hiding them, let's throw all our talents into this pursuit. If we face trial along the way, mess up, or are misunderstood, so be it.
We only have room to become scared when the focus is on us. When I feel apathy beginning to take root and drown out my drive to keep going, it’s because in that moment I’m forgetting others’ needs. When I am actively aware of those needs and understand my potential to make a difference, I lose myself in the headlong sprint to service. Call it ambition. It's not about believing in ourselves or our talents; it's about believing in the power of the message.
I keep coming back to whether writing is what I want or what he wants. Well here’s the truth: I don’t know his plans. In fact, I don’t know a single person who does know them or has known them before they unfolded (okay, prophets). But I do know my purpose and I really doubt he’d disapprove of my writing as the method in which I fulfill it. If over time it changes because he moves me towards something else, I trust he will make it evident. My plan is to please God. My ambition is to point others to him and the freedom and salvation he offers. For now, I will aim to do both with and through my writing. For you, it may not be words. It might be your art. It might be cooking. Building. Teaching. Business. Parenting. Fitness. Medicine. Here’s the truth: it really doesn’t matter what you do so long as you are doing it from the position of a good and faithful servant. We don’t even really know specifically what the first two servants did to get their return—we just know they got it.
Here’s the truth: it really doesn’t matter what you do so long as you are doing it from the position of a good and faithful servant.
It reminds me of a song my first grade class sang at our special OCS chapel performance. Us and countless other classes who I’m sure continued to tradition. We all were assigned parts and dressed accordingly to those professions. Tiny doctors, preachers, mamas, coaches, etc.—whatever professions first graders would recognize as legitimate. And the song lyrics went: “whatever I will be when I grow up, I’ll be a Christian first when I grow up.” Each group got a chance to reinforce the same message using something specific to their role, but the first priority remained: a Christian first.
I don’t really think there’s a more important message for first graders, college students, or the parents of those first graders. Don’t get me wrong, it is about what we do with our lives, but it is not about what job we use to do it. Our job descriptions will vary greatly due to the talents we were each allotted, but our purpose will be the same. Hiding from the unknown may feel safer with every added protective layer of dirt, but buried talents won't help anyone—not others or ourselves. On the contrary, using our talents as tools for fulfilling our purpose will make all the difference.
God meant for there to be Christians everywhere or he wouldn’t have sent his son to save all. That means to reach all, there must be some in every field. However, we can be certain that simply being in a field and blending in is burying our talents. Sure, we may be achieving and accomplishing by the world’s standards but are we fulfilling our purpose? Perhaps you, like me, have grown apathetic. I challenge you then to look inward for only a moment to assess if maybe overtime it’s become more about you in your endeavors and less about him. It may not be that he doesn’t want you in that field, it may be that he meant for you to boldly take him with you. Then look outward and keep looking outward because that’s where real change and true impact is going to happen. Let’s good and faithful servants who refuse to bury our talents but commits to use them boldly and intentionally for the Kingdom of Heaven. That is our purpose and so also should be our ambition, and this leaves no room or time for apathy. If you've made a habit of burying your talents in the past, dig them up. They're not wasted; that's called treasure.
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