by Cher Gatto
A writer’s warning about the subtle power of discouragement

 

The enemy has a lot of tools in his tool chest.

But the one he wields with the sharpest, finest point is discouragement. With merely the scratch of the blade, often painless, it goes unrecognized until it festers. Until it infects and spreads.

Discouragement is an unwanted guest. It creeps in. Finds the back door. Does not introduce itself loudly, but blends in with the furniture so well, it is never asked to leave. Barely ever noticed. But it is not dormant. It is active and alive, feasting on our fears and doubts.

As writers especially, our doors and windows are wide open. We invite so many people inside the home of our hearts that we often can’t distinguish the voices. The comment. The critique. The rejection. And we forget the very reason we are here.

Our family left the mission field after 10 years of the strongest calling God has ever put on our lives. We were tired. Burned out. Discouraged. But the weariness festered more from the inside—the wrestling with our team, our coworkers, “sheep bites” from within the flock—than the weight of the ministry. But it came with the brutal power to change the course of our lives.

I have never forgotten the words of a dear friend shortly after we left. She said the enemy cannot steal the heart of God within us. He cannot take away the hope and the future we have in Him. He cannot dismantle the plans and the path God has set before us, nor thwart the ministry and the calling God has placed on our lives.

The enemy alone cannot rob us of that. He has no power to.

But listen . . . he can wield the subtle blade of discouragement. And when he does—when we believe his lies—we willingly open our hands and let go of the gifts we value most. The ones God has set in our hearts; we give them away ourselves.

The hope. The future. The ministry. The calling.

Just like that. Without a fight.

That was a moment we let go of one of the most beautiful seasons of our lives. And every day, I am tempted to lay down my pen because a voice—sometimes my own—has snuck in the back door, and I have given it too much power. Too much control. Too much capacity to define not just my work, but my worth.

Be wary of discouragement today, my friend. I cannot tell you what disguise it wears when it comes to your door, but I can tell you it is a liar and a thief. It comes to steal, kill, and destroy. It can lead us to wallowing in our own rights or resentments. It plays the old songs of failure and fraud. Of unworthiness and self-doubt. It makes us forget the truth of who we are.

The Lord has called you by name. Set you apart before the foundations of the world to be His. You are His “poema” (workmanship), his poem. God’s very own poem of love . . . that’s you. And the mystery of you is unfolding every day.

I pray the eyes of your heart may be fixed on Him and only Him today.

Whatever discouragement you bear, whatever untruth you have allowed to define you, whatever shortcomings displace you, give them over to Him.

Listen only to the voice of the Author of your life. Trust His voice and only His to call you into the deep waters of His love and His plan for you.

And make sure, my friend, to always lock the back door when you leave.

Published first in part: Cher Gatto’s blog, The Intangibles of Life: The Weapons Fashioned Against Us, www.chergatto.com, Jan. 9, 2018. 

 

Cher Gatto is a 2016 Genesis Award-winning author for her novel, Something I am Not. She has a passion to write fiction with a redemption story that comes from over a decade of serving in areas of great poverty. Cher holds a master’s degree in psychology and serves as president for the New York/New Jersey chapter of the American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW). Cher will keynote for the 2026 CCW Summer Conference June 14–17 at Canby Grove Christian Center in Canby, Oregon. Registration is open now.