Does this article make me look fat?

“How do I look?  Do these pants fit right? Is this shirt tight across the back?”

There are few men who would ever want to answer questions like these.  Along with your mother’s cooking, old girlfriends, and commenting on the number of shoes in a closet, no man should ever comment on a woman’s weight. Even when pressed to be honest, we know it’s just a no win situation and you need to back away slowly. I mean swiftly.

This dance around certain subjects is also found in this creative world.  Few people are willing to talk about pride. Those in the arts — writers, painters, sculptors, dancers, designers, poets, singers — walk the tightrope of praise and humility. We want the applause, gravitating toward those who appreciate our talent and turning our backs on those who don’t give us kudos. It’s just human nature. The problem with pointing out pride, noticing those specks of self-promotion in others, is that darn 2×4 that gets in the way.

There is nothing more gratifying than someone telling me that they have been touched, or blessed, or inspired by my written or spoken word. It keeps me going. It’s the go-juice that I drink that gives me the gumption to do it again. But it’s a world that is so fraught with danger, that we must guard continually against.

For writers these days marketing is part of the package.  And those in music and painting and other creative expressions must also be good self marketers. Here’s where it becomes awkward, especially for those of who are writing about things of the Divine. “You must build a platform” they say. But whose being lifted up?

There is one successful blogger – a very successful one – who writes Christian books, self-help books for other writers, and guest blogs atmany other places. his self-promotion and marketing skills are amazing. Actually they are too amazing!

For as long as I’ve been doing this, you would think that I’d have a big audience, books to my name, and praises from around the globe. However I don’t, because this article makes me look fat. And I’m completely comfortable with where I’m at in life. I’d rather be honest than popular.

I always struggle with transparency, trying to root out the superficial that clogs my brain and trips me up. I could twist words to play on emotions, to evoke a response. I could say things that elevate my insight, my maturity and my obedience. I could pull the chair over and stand it so I’d be a little taller. And maybe people would be fooled — for a while.

My ear strains to catch someone talking about me. My heart puffs when good things are said. My hidden soul is propped by the good words of strangers. But having fallen more than once, I know the pitfalls of a prideful life.

And even writing about it plays on that ugly part of me. I’ve heard a voice saying exactly this, “Maybe they’ll think I’m humble because I’m talking about pride.” Sheesh. What a mess!

So I ask God to help with humility, knowing it’s not always pretty. And sometimes, the only way to get it, is to be humiliated.