Trophies in the Trash
I used to think that honors and awards would fill me up, but it turns out that they just left me hollow.
Living with me used to be a rollercoaster ride. I would go through these highs and lows based on the successes or failures of my projects. If a game were featured on the App Store, I would be up for a short time, and I would dip real low when a game received negative reviews or missed our sales targets. Rollercoasters are fun at amusement parks, but the emotional rollercoaster I was on was no way to live—it was making everyone miserable, including myself.
It took the better part of a decade for that ride to come to an end. When I stepped off, I had achieved pretty much everything I thought I wanted. I had started a studio with my friends. One of the games we created accumulated almost three million downloads. Another game I worked on was for a well-known licensed property that paid exceptionally well. I also had an opportunity to help some friends with their game, which became a notable entry in videogame history. Journalists wrote articles about it worldwide, and a director even created a full-length documentary about it!
Sometimes, I think God gives us our hearts' desires to show us they don't satisfy. Sure, they are fun for a moment, but they don't last—the attention wanes, the applause fades, and the awards start gathering dust. I'm thankful to have had those opportunities early in my career. Some people spend their whole lives chasing praise and success, thinking they will be satisfied. I've learned that Jesus is the only one that can satisfy our longings. That's why he said that whoever comes to him would never hunger or thirst again.
One of the big lessons I took away from this journey was that creators could work from one of two places:
The first is from lack. You'll know when you are here if there is an emptiness you're trying to fill. The void can take different shapes, but we try to fill it with the typical things—money, fame, success, and praise. Creation becomes a means to an end instead of a process to enjoy. We create with the hope that our work finds an audience that will meet our needs. Sadly, this is where I spent the first half of my career. Comparison and misplaced identity (work and success) held me in lack's gravitational pull.
The second place we can create is from abundance. Generosity and blessings flow from here. I believe this is where our Creator works. I once heard God describe it as an overflowing fountain. He exists in a perfect community, with each person of the trinity delighting in the others. And out of this joyful abundance, Creation was formed.
Once I accepted the identity God had for me, instead of creating one for myself, I was able to start working from this place. When God fills our emptiness, it frees us to be generous with our work. We can shift our attention to focus on how we can bless and serve our audience rather than worry about what they will give us in return.
Several years ago, my family and I moved to a different state. As we were packing, I said goodbye to all my awards and placed them in a dumpster. They had occupied enough room in my life. God was filling that space now.
