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Michelle DeRusha

Every Day Faith. Faith Every Day.

Brad Johnson

A Husband’s Response to “Worth in Work”

October 24, 2014 By Michelle

A couple of days ago, when my husband asked if he could write a post for my blog, he made me promise I would publish it. So today I somewhat sheepishly and self-consciously welcome Brad, who has written a response to my post last week about my worth being too connected to my work.

two windows2Last week Michelle wrote about her frustration with the business of being a writer–with the daily battle to gain and keep readers, to sell enough books to make a living from the work she loves. At times that  pursuit has left her emotionally exhausted and spiritually taxed. As she puts it, “I’ve mistaken my work–or really, my success at my work–as the only measure of my worth.”

I can attest to this tendency in Michelle.  She’s a number watcher in a number-watching business.  She measures success blog subscriber by blog subscriber, book sold by book sold. It’s a concrete approach that is reinforced daily by the publishing houses and agents.

My initial, impulsive reaction to Michelle’s post is to point out how far beyond writing, publishing and selling her worth goes. And of course that’s true. Even if the worst happened for her professionally, even if Oprah dedicated an hour-long television special to how people should NOT read Michelle’s work, even then she would be worthwhile beyond measure.

All I need to do to realize that fact is to imagine our family without her.  The physical household would fall apart as would the humor and the energy and the inspiration to be our best. Our boys don’t care that thousands of people have read her work. They only care that she reads with them before bed, tends to them in sickness, and laughs a contagious laugh that changes their whole day.  The homeless man down the road doesn’t care about her Amazon rank, but I’m guessing that he does care about the food Michelle hands him or the bag of quarters she offers when she sees him carrying his clothes to the laundromat.

True as all of that may be, I cannot ignore how much energy Michelle invests in her work or the fact that it does, at least in part, define her and her sense of worth. And that’s not an entirely bad thing.

In fact,  I happen to know the precise moment when I realized that all of the work that Michelle put into writing her memoir was worthwhile and revealed a great deal about her identity.

It was the afternoon of April 12th, and Michelle was doing a reading/book talk for roughly two hundred women at our church. She had forgotten something at home, so she called to ask me to bring it. When I arrived, the crowd was seated in the fellowship hall, and Michelle was reading from a particularly funny section of the book and discussing her journey toward faith.

The corridor from which I watched was empty, and I had the beautiful privilege of seeing how the crowd responded to her. At times they laughed uproariously; at other times they nodded in recognition; mostly they looked, with the bright eyes and subtle smiles of people who are thankful to be so entertained and edified.

Through the doorway I could see most of the crowd, but I could only hear Michelle. And it was the crowd that most interested me. They were the ones who demonstrated, so clearly, the worth in Michelle’s work.  I have rarely understood anything so perfectly, so purely than in that moment of realization. Whatever might become of Michelle’s memoir in terms of sales or professional recognition, it paled in comparison to the joy she brought to that group of listeners in that moment.

We can never really understand our worth or even whether our work is worthwhile, because we can never be the person to stand in the corridor. We’re too weighted down by the disparity between the perfection we envision and the reality for which we must settle.

But once in a while–no, as often as possible–we need to see through God’s eyes. They provide the ultimate corridor perspective, the ultimate vision of one who can see past our imperfections to our big-picture impact and to our boundless potential.

That is true worth.

 

Filed Under: guest posts, work Tagged With: Brad Johnson

Awakening Our Humanity

June 30, 2014 By Michelle

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My favorite professor in college had a unique way of dealing with the rare student who fell asleep in her class. The first time I saw Karen deal with a sleeping student, I was expecting one of the two responses I had witnessed from other instructors. I knew one high school teacher who would sneak up on the student, raise the heaviest book in the room about four feet over the student’s desk, and let it drop. Another took a less suspenseful, more direct approach and would simply throw a chalkboard eraser at the victim.

Both methods were effective, but not as effective as Karen’s. She would gently place her hand on the student’s shoulder, lean down and whisper, “Eric, you seem really tired today. Maybe you should head back to your room, get some rest, and give it another try tomorrow.” Students were so disarmed by this compassionate approach that they would participate at a high level for the remainder of the period. If you fell asleep in Karen’s class, it didn’t happen a second time.

…I’m sharing this post by my husband, Brad Johnson, for two reasons. One, because I’m on vacation this week and was too lazy to write a blog post in advance. And two (more importantly!), I LOVE this post and am so proud of my man, I had to share it with you. So head on over to The High Calling for the rest of Brad’s story…

Filed Under: guest posts Tagged With: Brad Johnson, leadership

Hear It on Sunday, Use It on Monday: Nature Itself Mourns

March 25, 2013 By Michelle

When Jesus enters Jerusalem in triumph, he no longer deflects the Pharisees from his true identity. Prior to this moment, he has responded to them with questions of his own or answers so deft that they confuse and frustrate the Pharisees. Now, however, Jesus speaks in direct language that he knows will accelerate the process of his persecution and crucifixion.

The authorities want him to either renounce the crowd’s suggestions that he is the Messiah or to acknowledge it and open himself up to a charge of blasphemy. Jesus’ response goes well beyond the acknowledgment that he is a king. In saying that “the stones would burst into cheers” (Luke 19:40) if the people could not, Jesus shows that his authority transcends that of earthly kings. Nature itself, fallen and broken along with humanity, feels its time of liberation at hand.

The statement also offers an ironic foreshadowing of the abandonment and crucifixion. The people, who could not contain their enthusiasm when Jesus arrived as a potential political liberator, evaporate when he is arrested and humiliated. When Jesus finally breathes his last on the cross, darkness covers the land. Nature itself mourns. The Gospel of Matthew, in a parallel with the image of stones celebrating Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem, notes that “the earth shook and the rocks were split” when Jesus dies. Both accounts suggest that nature stands ready to respond to the command of God, to reflect the mood of its creator, while people will only be obedient to their own interests.

Lord, as we celebrate the entry of Jesus into human history, remind us to be on guard against fair-weather faith. Help us to be obedient to your will, celebrating your triumph regardless of the consequences. Amen.

{This devotion was written by my husband Brad for our church’s Lenten devotional booklet. Isn’t he such an eloquent writer?! Thank you for patience and grace as I catch up writing and whatnot. And thank you, too, for your prayers and warm thoughts regarding my talk this past weekend – it went well … and I am so relieved that it’s done!}

 

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Filed Under: New Testament, Palm Sunday, Use It on Monday Tagged With: Brad Johnson, Gospel of Luke, Hear It on Sunday Use It on Monday

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For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a Triple Type A, “make it happen” (my dad’s favorite mantra) striver and achiever (I’m a 3 on the Enneagram, which tells you everything you need to know), but these days my striving looks more like sitting in silence on a park bench, my dog at my feet, as I slowly learn to let go of the false selves that have formed my identity for decades and lean toward uncovering who God created me to be.

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