More From Stephen Hopkins

I think I learned the value of words from my dad.  He was an English major at the University of Delaware.  Eventually, he realized that degree wasn’t helping him pay the bills the way he needed.  So he went back and got a degree in accounting and worked for decades in hospital finance.  But he always loved to read and write.  In all the years I had with my dad, I never remember a time when he didn’t have a book nearby.

I guess I didn’t learn from Dad’s misadventures in college majors because when my time came, I chose to study history.  English and history are not fields known for lucrative financial rewards.  One of the benefits, though, was that it gave me the opportunity to read and write. . . a lot.  Several years later, when I began the journey into vocational ministry, I felt a call to use that writing to help people know and follow Jesus.

My problem was that I thought the way to use my gift of writing to help people was to become a writer.  And to become a writer, I thought I needed to get my writing published and read by lots of people.  In those early days, I would write devotional pieces and send them off to different websites, blogs, publishers.  When I was rejected (and I was rejected every time), I grew dejected.  So, I quit trying to be a writer. 

But then, a funny thing happened. In the course of my ministry as a local church pastor, I found a useful avenue for my writing.  It wasn’t grandiose.  I would write notes of encouragement to folks in my congregation.  I would write emails to remind people that God loved them and everything was going to be OK.  In short, I just started writing to serve people where they were.

My devotional that was published in The Upper Room came from one of those emails.  I had a lot of positive feedback from my church and thought I’d submit it as a daily devotional.  There wasn’t a lot of thought or planning.  I prayed, sensed the “all-clear,” submitted the piece, and forgot about it.  I was shocked when I got the notification that it had been accepted for publication.

Here’s the lesson I learned: when I wrote to get published, the content was unhelpful and not transformative.  Ultimately, that’s because I was writing for personal gain.  When I wrote to serve people, the content made a real difference in people’s lives. I think that’s because I was more concerned about them than I was about myself.  In our great tradition, we might call that love.

When I have sought to use the gifts God has given me with an attitude of genuine love and service, they have been multiplied.  When I’ve sought to do things because I wanted to be noticed or applauded or cheered, they have not borne much fruit.  All of us have been given valuable and meaningful gifts in life.  Those gifts may be writing, singing, speaking, painting, parenting, or offering encouragement.  They may be great or insignificant in the eyes of the world.  But if God gives the gift, God wants us to use it with humility and service.  And when we do, it will bear real, lasting fruit.  The gospel gives dignity to what is ordinary, small, and seemingly inconsequential.  These gifts and people ultimately affect the most meaningful change in our world.