I was critical.
I saw people making work an idol—important relationships were neglected because of it—and it left a bad taste in my mouth. I judged others for not being more present at home. I assumed the worst about motive when I witnessed undesirable methods.
Yet, almost two years ago I began a journey that led to a difficult realization.
I was one of them.
I had become a workaholic who neglected her family because I did not want to stop working. It wasn’t that I had to be working, I wanted to be.
I thrived on creative projects, but I was wearing myself and my family out because I was pushing the limits and doing and doing and doing.
It got out of hand as I raced ahead with a somewhat entitled attitude.
Over time my focus shifted —from using my words to worship to worshiping my words.
My family became resentful.
I once wrote a post about Isaiah 40:19 and the importance of not bowing to idols. Little did I know that no too long after that I would need to topple some idols of my own.
Hosea 4:12 “My people consult their wooden idol, and their diviner’s wand informs them; for a spirit of harlotry has led them astray. And they have played the harlot, departing from their God.”
The very thing I criticized others for—being a workaholic—had become true of me.
The work was not wicked but the spirit behind it was. I lusted for more accolades, more attention, more ground to stand tall upon. What started out as checking something off my bucket list, write a book, became a quest for significance.
The writing wasn’t wrong, the desire for it to define my worth was.
He allowed me to write, but I had gotten a lot wrong as I pursued the goal with a divided motive.
I had been led astray by selfish ambition. I had neglected rest for the sake of pride.
Can you relate?