Inside: Criticism that had nothing to do with writing exposed a huge blind spot in my life and paved the way for future growth. ~
I’ve had the opportunity to work with many wonderful editors over the years. People who appreciated the value of a perfectly turned phrase, who explained when it was better to use a long dash or a semicolon, who taught me to write the language of my readers rather than the jargon of the businessmen and women I interviewed.
But as much as I learned from these wordsmiths, the greatest lesson I ever learned from an editor had nothing to do with sentence structure or the Associated Press Stylebook.
It was about pride.
All Puffed Up
See, I’ve been a writer for a several decades, and there was a time—many years ago—when I thought I was pretty darn good. So good, in fact, that I had a terrible time accepting constructive criticism or feedback from my editors.
I really don’t know where I got off thinking like this. Maybe it had something to do with being an honors student all through school. Perhaps there’s something about excelling academically that makes one prone to thinking one knows everything when one enters the real world (ahem).
Whatever the case, I didn’t receive feedback or correction very well in my early days as a newspaper reporter. I would argue and insist I was right and resist making changes that were probably very good.
I’d like to think I didn’t do this in a loud, noticeable way, but it did happen.
It was pride, and it was ugly.
Called Out
At my second newspaper job, I had an editor who was tough but fair. As I recall, she had been raised by a godly mom and gone to a faith-based college. But although she was well-versed in matters of religion, I don’t think she was what one would consider a practicing Christian.
She knew I was, however.
And one day she called me out on my attitude. I don’t remember the exact conversation, but the basic gist of it was that, even though I said I was a Christian, I wasn’t acting like one in how I received feedback.
I was devastated.
Ashamed.
Embarrassed.
Humiliated.
I’m pretty sure I felt every emotion you could possibly feel in such a situation except for one, and that was anger.
I wasn’t angry because she was right.
My Response
That evening, I went home and cried my eyes out. I also determined in my heart to change.
I returned to work the next day and apologized to my editor. And from then on, I made it my aim to stop arguing about feedback.
At first, I almost had to put my hand over my mouth to keep the defensive words from pouring out. With God’s help, though, I persevered. And the more I responded correctly, the easier it got.
Turning Point
That long-ago encounter was a turning point—in my journalism career and in my life.
God used my editor to expose a huge blind spot in my mind and heart. The experience hurt badly, but it also was a gift—one that paved the way for future assignments.
For example, my next job involved a significant amount of collaborative writing. If I had still been insisting on my own way and not able to take criticism, this task would have been extremely difficult. It turned out to be one of the most rewarding jobs I’ve ever had, but it would have been a disaster if God hadn’t seen fit to humble me at the newspaper.
The pride wasn’t gone, of course. I still had a lot to learn—lessons that went far deeper and took much longer. It’s an ongoing growth process, even now.
But It Was a Beginning
And to this day, I’m so grateful for the editor who—for whatever reason—wasn’t willing to let me get away with being a hypocrite.
The thing about pride is this: It’s easy to spot in someone else, but practically impossible to identify in yourself.
Yes, God resists the proud. But when He reveals pride in His children, we do well to look at it as the gracious gift of a loving Father—the only One who knows exactly what we need to become all that He designed us to be.
♥ Lois
The greatest lesson I ever learned from an editor had nothing to do with sentence structure or the Associated Press Stylebook. It was about pride. Share on X When God reveals pride in His children, we do well to look at it as the gracious gift of a loving Father—the only One who knows exactly what we need to become all that He designed us to be. Share on XP.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.
22 comments
This —> “Yes, God resists the proud. But when He reveals pride in His children, we do well to look at it as the gracious gift of a loving Father—the only One who knows exactly what we need to become all that He designed us to be.”
Amen!!
Oh, Bethany … God’s vision for us is so much greater than our own, isn’t it? Love and hugs to you, dear friend.
Thank you for being so transparent, Lois. Pride can sneak in so easily in all of us. I love how you describe this incident as a “gracious gift of a loving Father—the only One who knows exactly what we need to become all that He designed us to be.” Love and blessings to you!
Oh Trudy … it didn’t exactly feel like a gift at the time, but I am still so thankful for it even after all these years! Love and hugs to you, dear friend!
Lois, this is true: “The thing about pride is this: It’s easy to spot in someone else, but practically impossible to identify in yourself.” May the Lord help us walk in humility, be teachable, and refuse pride.
Amen, Lisa! Good to hear from you this week!
Love this Lois! I have been called out (more than once, ouch) even by non-Christians for my attitude, and I felt that embarrassment all over again reading this. But like you, I am still grateful because it ignited change in my life, though more for the fact that I had dishonored God than my own embarrassment!
Oh Donna, I’m sorry to remind you of past embarrassments! I am, however, thankful I’m not the only one to have gone through this and been able to grow from it. Hugs, friend.
Lois, pride is both insidious and pervasive sin. It’s present and growing before we even realize it. You are so right (and wise) to remind us to be grateful when God shows us pride’s presence in our lives. For it is then we can grow in His ways and the path He has for us. May you and your family have a Happy Thanksgiving!
So true, Joanne. God knows what we need to become more like Him, doesn’t He? I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving too, dear friend!
Lois,
Oh how I can relate to your story. I’ve not often thought myself a good writer, as several of my English teachers told me to stick with math. However, I did count myself an excellent speller. That is until a manager caught wind of my bragging and called me out publicly.
It was a painful experience, but it was also a productive lesson I’ve not forgotten in the last 35 years.
Thank you for sharing your story.
Oh, Lisa … the painful lessons are the ones we remember the most, aren’t they? I can’t believe your English teacher told you to stick with math … I’m glad that hasn’t kept you from sharing your words with the world. Hugs, friend
Lois, this post is such a powerful testament to how God can use even the hardest feedback to refine and grow us. It’s amazing how you turned a painful moment into a stepping stone for both personal and professional growth. Your humility in receiving the editor’s critique and allowing it to shape you is such an inspiration. 🙂 I especially love how you highlighted the importance of separating our worth from our work—a lesson that resonates deeply. Thank you for sharing your story and reminding us that even uncomfortable moments can be opportunities for God to mold us into His image! And, thank you so much for linking up at InstaEncouragements this week!
Aw, Patsy … thank you! Your encouragement is a blessing to me. And I don’t say it near enough, but I am so thankful for your faithfulness in hosting your linkup.
Lois, your change shows you were good soil. “Faithful are the wounds of a friend.”
Aw, Debbie … that is so kind of you to say. 🙂
Oh this is so true, Lois – ‘It’s easy to spot in someone else, but practically impossible to identify in yourself.’
We are often so blind to our own faults and sins. It’s far easier to look for what we’re carrying in the lives of others. Thank you for this nudge toward self-examination and transparency before God and others.
Oh Linda, that is so true that it’s “far easier too look for what we’re carrying in the lives of others.” Ugh. Easier, and way more comfortable too!
Whoa! This is such a cautionary word, Lois. Pride is sneaky.
And I am learning to be SO grateful for the good services of an editor. Blogging life is so solitary that when I actually have another person’s eyes on my work, I am amazed at the way they help me to say it better!
Pride sure is sneaky, Michele. And I agree about the services of an editor. Even editors need editors!
What discourages me about pride is how insidious and pervasive it is. And how prone I am to it even though I know better. And how it is an ongoing battle rather than being conquered all at once. I’ve accumulated some related verses in the notes app on my phone that I review often. Plus our church has introduced some new-to-me songs that help: All My Boast Is In Jesus, All Glory Be to Christ, May Christ Be All. God is good to patiently and graciously deal with us about these things.
Barbara, I understand those discouragements associated with pride all too well. It is wonderful to have songs that help in this battle, though. I’m thankful our heavenly Father is loving and longsuffering.