Can I ask you something straight up?
How long are you going to wait?
I mean that with love. But I need you to sit with the question for a minute.
How many more months — or years — are you going to spend waiting for God to give you some dramatic, unmistakable, burning-bush confirmation that you’re supposed to write this book?
You don’t have to wait for a burning bush to take the next step.
And here’s what nobody tells you: even if it did come, it probably wouldn’t settle the question the way you think it would.
If you believe you’re called to write a Christian book, this post is for you. And I say this as someone who has been exactly where you are — staring at the ceiling, asking God for one more sign, while the manuscript sat untouched for another month.
Every hero you admire tried the “I’m not qualified” line
Let’s look at the track record, because it’s not what most of us were taught in Sunday school.
Moses stood barefoot in front of a burning bush — an actual burning bush, the very thing you’re waiting for — and his response was to argue. “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh?” (Exodus 3:11). Then, when that didn’t work: “I am slow of speech and tongue” (Exodus 4:10). In other words: Lord, You’ve got the wrong guy. I’m not a speaker.
God’s answer? “Who gave human beings their mouths? … Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say” (Exodus 4:11–12).
Translation: Your qualifications were never the point. Go.
Gideon was literally hiding — threshing wheat in a winepress so the Midianites wouldn’t see him (Judges 6:11) — when the angel called him a “mighty warrior.” His response: “My clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my family” (Judges 6:15). Wrong guy, wrong family, wrong everything.
God sent him anyway.
Jeremiah got the call and immediately protested: “I do not know how to speak; I am too young” (Jeremiah 1:6). God’s response: “Do not say, ‘I am too young'” (Jeremiah 1:7). Then He touched Jeremiah’s mouth and put the words there Himself.
Do you see the pattern?
Every one of them argued. Every one of them felt unqualified. And every one of them got sent anyway.
God has never once been impressed by the “I’m not qualified” speech. He wrote the job description Himself — and “already equipped” was never on the list.
“Waiting on God” can be a very spiritual-sounding stall tactic
Now, before you send me an email — I am not telling you to stop praying.
Prayer is essential. Seeking God’s guidance is wisdom.
But there is a world of difference between seeking God and stalling in Jesus’ name.
Last week I wrote about how the search for clarity can become a hiding place. If you missed it, you can read it here. Waiting for a calling works exactly the same way. It sounds responsible. It sounds spiritual. It sounds like something a mature believer would say.
But sometimes “I’m waiting on the Lord” is just a sanctified way of saying “I’m afraid to start.”
Here’s my test, and I want you to apply it honestly:
Have you already prayed about this book? Have you already sensed God’s nudge? Have you already felt the burden for the readers He’s put on your heart?
Then you may not need more confirmation.
You may need more obedience.
Even Gideon — the patron saint of asking for one more sign — eventually had to get up and go. God was patient with the fleece. Twice, even. But patience is not the same as permission to stay put. The direction was always go.
Are you tracking with me?
I didn’t get a burning bush. I got a pink slip.
Let me tell you my story, because I think it will set you free.
I did not receive a dramatic calling to become an author. There was no audible voice, no prophetic word, no Gideon-style fleece moment.
I was an investment banker in downtown Philadelphia. One afternoon, with one hour’s notice, my entire department was eliminated in the wake of a stock market crash. I walked to the train station crying my eyes out — grown men around me were crying too.
And somewhere between the platform and my seat, I started laughing. Because it hit me: I have wanted to be a writer my whole life. What am I doing running spreadsheets?
That was it. That was my “calling.” A pink slip and a train ride.
I wasn’t qualified. I was unemployed. There’s a difference — and God used it.
My first book, Homemade Business, was published by Focus on the Family and went on to sell well over 150,000 copies. It changed my life forever. Every door that has opened for me in 35 years of publishing started with that one decision to stop waiting and start writing.
I didn’t feel ready. I didn’t feel called in the dramatic sense. I just took the next step that was in front of me.
That’s how it works more often than we admit. God doesn’t call the equipped — He equips the called. And most of the equipping happens after you say yes, not before.
The calling usually gets clear in the doing, not before it
Here’s what I wish someone had told me thirty-five years ago:
You don’t get the map and then take the trip. You take the first step, and the next one gets lit.
Moses didn’t discover he could speak before Pharaoh — he discovered it in front of Pharaoh. Gideon didn’t discover he was a mighty warrior in the winepress — he discovered it on the battlefield. Jeremiah didn’t become a prophet by waiting until he felt old enough — he became one by opening his mouth.
The confirmation you’ve been praying for? It may be hiding on the other side of your obedience.
I’m not saying feelings don’t matter. I’m saying feelings are terrible leaders. If Moses had waited until he felt eloquent, Israel would still be in Egypt.
So let me flip the question you’ve been asking:
Instead of “God, are You sure You want me to write this book?”
Try: “God, I’m going to write the next chapter this week. Redirect me if I’m wrong.”
That’s not presumption. That’s faith with its work boots on.
Your minimum-effective-dose obedience this week
I’m a big believer in the minimum effective dose — the smallest action that produces a real result. So I’m not going to give you a twelve-step program. I’m going to give you one step.
Pray, then write 1,000 messy words instead of spending another week asking for the same confirmation.
Not 1,000 good words. Messy ones. The chapter you’ve been avoiding. The story you keep telling yourself isn’t ready. The section where you have no idea what you’re doing.
Set a timer. Write badly. Refuse to edit. Just get the words down.
Then — then — pray. And watch what happens.
Those 1,000 words will give you something concrete to evaluate, pray over, and improve. Movement produces a kind of clarity that contemplation never can.
Remember: DONE IS BETTER THAN PERFECT. And started is better than waiting.
Your book cannot change lives while you’re waiting for permission
Your message may be meaningful.
Your burden for your readers may be real.
Your desire to get this right may be completely sincere.
But the reader God put on your heart cannot read a book that exists only in your prayers, your journals, and your “someday” file.
You don’t need to be qualified. You don’t need to be ready. You don’t need one more fleece.
You need to be willing — and then willing to take the next small step.
Moses stuttered. Gideon hid. Jeremiah was “too young.” And God used every one of them to change history.
He can handle your rough draft, friend.
Now go write the book.
Your next step
If you keep wanting to write but haven’t moved forward, what’s getting in your way?
Take my free 90-second quiz, What Kind of Writer Are You?, to discover your writer type, your biggest strength, the hidden trap stalling your book, and your one next step.
You don’t need perfect conditions to begin. Take one small step today.