I’ve Done the Work. I’ve Got the Credentials. So Why Am I Still Invisible?

What is the point of creating and posting content when you have a tiny email list, or only a handful of social media followers, and it seems like no one ever comments on or engages with your content?

It’s such a waste of time and energy.

It’s so frustrating.

Right?

I get that. Believe me - I do.

It feels like I’ve been in the trenches for years. I’ve done so much work and still it feels like I’m watching others sail past me while I just keep treading water. I interviewed over 250 people and wrote 250 articles on each of those people, to post with their episode of my podcast.

I got the only standing ovation at the TEDx event I spoke at.

I published three books of my own. Won an award for one.

I won the NYS Press Association Award for Best Column of the Year.

I’ve attended dozens of events and spent thousands of dollars on coaching.

I’ve been featured on pretty much every news station.

I hosted three live events.

And so on.

And still here I sit in relative obscurity.

Maybe part of that is because I do things like admit that- Because I’m pretty sure most coaches and “Influencers” will tell you to never admit something like that.

Whatever.

I’m not talking to them. I’m talking to you.

If they believed in me and wanted to help, they’d share my content and support my film.

But they - mostly- are not. You are. So I’m going to share a story I heard this weekend that I believe will inspire you, relight that flame that is flickering out, and remind you why you do what you do.

Dave and I attended the Life Surge event. If you have not been to one- find one close to you and go. Speakers like Ed Mylett, Nick Vujicic, John Maxwell, Daymond John and so many others joined by Danny Gokey performing, poured so much into us I’m still processing.

One speaker shared a story that hit home on this very topic of sharing your message even when no one is listening. I’ll condense it here, but you’ll get the point:

A pastor’s son loved his dad so much, and believed in his message. He’d do anything to support his dad’s work, which he knew was also the Lord’s work.

But even he could not understand why his dad insisted on sending the choir out to perform that night. It was pouring down rain - the kind of rain that floods rivers and outpowers even the fastest windshield wiper setting. Five thousand empty seats faced the empty stage in the middle of the field. But his dad did not relent, and the choir got dutifully drenched as they sang their hearts out.

Everyone else took shelter in their vehicles. Even the son. The choir fled to their cars, too, blasting their heaters and doing their best to dry out.

Only his dad remained. And for fifty minutes, the speakers boomed with the sound of his dad’s voice, preaching as if every seat was occupied, and thousands more stood. His dad, the son thought, must be crazy. Why bother- why pour so much passion and heart into sharing a message to an empty field? It would have seemed crazy on even the most gorgeous of evenings - but in a storm like that?

Certifiably insane.

Fifty minutes later, his dad got back in the car and they drove home.

They never talked about that night again -

Until.

Decades later, the son sat by his father’s hospital bed. The tumor that had stolen his dad’s ability to speak had not succeeded in stealing his dad’s spirit.

“Sir” a nurse said, “You have a visitor.”

They were not expecting any more visitors that day, but his dad waved to the nurse to allow it.

A young man swept in and dropped beside the pastor’s bed.

“You don’t know me,” he pushed out through his tears, “But one night, years ago, I sat alone on a hill. I was going to kill myself..”

The young man went on to share how he’d been in such a dark place that he’d selected the precise spot he would end his life. But he decided to sit under a tree and wait out the rain before continuing to that spot. In those moments, he heard the pastor’s voice speaking of hope, and love, and life, and faith. That message felt like it was just for him. He’d fallen to his knees, prayed, and found the strength to rebuild his life. He was now a pastor himself, with 67 people in his small congregation.

The pastor’s tears could have spoken for themselves. But when the visitor left, while the son wiped his own tears away, the pastor looked over, smiled and gave a thumbs up to his son.

That story hit me. And if you are still reading I imagine it hit you, too.

Don’t ever stop sharing your message.

Even if you feel like no one is listening.

Don’t let social media “likes” impact your purpose, one way or another.

Someone out there is counting on you to show up today. You may never know their name or their story. But that is the true test, the true differentiator between those who do what they do because they know they are called to do it no matter what, and those who are swayed from their purpose.

Which are you?