This Topsy-Turvy God, by Liz Carter

I’ve been thinking a lot about kingdom values lately, and how they apply to my writing. Subversive values which turn the thinking of our culture on its head – values which mean the weak are strong and the poor are rich, the failures are successes and the dregs are the honoured. God’s incredible order of grace means that all those negative labels we apply to ourselves, all the rejection words we speak over ourselves, are turned upside down and our ashes transformed to beauty.

Never so pertinent as in our writing trials and tribulations.

I’ve been through a rollercoaster of a journey for the last few years with my writing. I’d known for years I wanted to write books; I’d made attempts when much younger but life took over and as my health worsened I told myself it was just another thing I’d failed at, another ambition I hadn’t reached and never would. 

But it niggled at me, and then shoved me full in the face. I couldn’t let it go, it was part of me, it was in me. Writing books wasn’t just an ambition, it was a need so desperate it wouldn’t let go. It was a calling. So I started. I wrote a novel and I began to learn about the craft of writing, soaking up books about the art and about style and showing and telling and all those other crucial things. I loved the process and the book poured from me, getting itself onto paper in a great rush of enthralling creativity. I was there! This was what I was made to do!

Then came the rejections. The agents’ one line emails. Not for us. Wouldn’t fit our list. Not something I’m interested in. The occasional bite which sent me flying high. Please send your full MS. Really like your concept. Lovely writing. But all coming to nothing.

Then I wrote another book. I wrote a book I felt God had been cultivating in my mind for a long time, and I submitted a proposal to IVP and it was commissioned. I was ecstatic. I thought that I would never feel weak or a failure again; I’d done it. I was going to get published.

But it wasn’t quite like that. The bumpy road of my editor’s frank and sometimes painful comments sent me into some dark places, places where I could only fall at God’s feet and ask for his help. I couldn’t do this thing on my own. God spoke so lovingly and faithfully about his kingdom grace, and I came to understand Jesus’ weakness in a much fuller way through these years of excitement then rejection on repeat. Jesus was fully human and suffered in a way none of us can even comprehend, far from a figure of power and strength, and yet brought about the greatest triumph in history. 

I love the writings of Paul, because one of his underpinning narratives is that of this subversion of power and riches. Whenever I feel that I am too weak, I read some of Paul’s verses about God’s power being made perfect in weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9) and how God has chosen the foolish things of the world to shame the wise (1 Corinthians 1:27). I love this crazy wild grace, this outpouring of lavish, scandalous love which knows no boundaries and doesn’t count our achievements or our ambitions or our finances or our looks or our position in society. Only our hearts.

I love this topsy-turvy God and love that he’s called me to write about him. I love that he speaks to me in my rejection and in my sickness as much – if not even more than – in my successes and high points.

I pray that today, if you are feeling weak in any way, whether in body, mind or spirit, that you will know the outrageous grace of God crashing through your sorrow and lighting your way.

Turning rejection into glory.

Liz Carter lives in Shropshire with her vicar husband and two teens. Her first book, Catching Contentment, will be published by IVP later this year. 

www.greatadventure.carterclan.me.uk/ 

Photo by Mathilda Khoo on Unsplash