This week I was at the Oregon Christian Writers Conference. If you’ve ever been to a writer’s conference you know how full they pack the four days. They are full of information and inspiration, with new and old ideas. There are appointments with agents and editors. If there’s time, you can meet with a mentor.

My sister asked me if I was excited about attending and I told her “mostly.” It’s exhilarating, meeting with people you haven’t seen for a year, meeting new friends and hearing new ideas about writing, marketing, publishing, blogging, what’s new in the publishing world. But it’s also hugely draining. There are times of worship, drawing us to God, and eating good food I didn’t prepare. There are meetings with editors who are friendly and kind and set us at ease as we share our writing, web site, and manuscripts.

This year I was a finalist in the OCW Cascade Awards for the second time. I would find out on Wednesday evening if I was the top winner in my class. There were three of us in the published memoir division. Would I get top honors? This thought ran through my mind at various moments during the week. What would I do if I won? Skip across the stage?

Finally the evening arrived. We enjoyed dinner and then the announcements were made. The award was given by reading the first line of the book, then the title of the book, and then the author. I waited in anticipation as they read first lines for the other categories and at last, it was  my category. I held my breath as I waited for the first line to be read. I heard the first couple of words and  knew I didn’t get top prize. Nope. I know my book backwards and forwards and it wasn’t me. Was I disappointed? For a fleeting moment, yes. But mostly I felt relief. It was over and the tension gone.

I was grateful I had my loving, sweet husband beside me, patting my back and whispering, “I’m sorry.” And I knew he meant it. You see, he’s my biggest fan.

I have a larger audience, though than Jim—and though on Earth, he’s the one I want to care about my words more than anyone else. But yes. My most treasured Audience is God.

Though sometimes I forget and worry about who might read my book, read my blogs—and like them. I can know He cares the most.

I have to battle acceptance all of the time. I want people to like me. Like my words. And I forget sometimes Who cares the most. I love this verse that assures me how much God cares.

Even to your old age and gray hairs
I am he, I am he who will sustain you.
I have made you and I will carry you;
I will sustain you and I will rescue you.
Isaiah 46:4

What more do I need? What promise those words are. I’m getting closer and closer to “old age” and those words give me hope. He will sustain, for he made me. He promises to carry me.cIt’s another reminder to me that I have a bigger audience. The One who created the universe and is crazy about me. He promises to always be there with me in the exciting times, in the dull daily times, in the sad times, too. So while everyone clapped for me as I walked across the stage to receive my finalist award, Someone else was clapping wildly—in the Heavenly places, for He delights in me. He delights in you. I’m going to bask in that thought today. I hope you do, too.