Rejection Is Often A Gift

And A Short Lesson From Trees (Things That Matter #18)

Rejection never feels like a gift in the moment. Instead, in the moment, it feels like the universe just did the whole swipe left on your soul kinda thing. Your idea or dream just got shot down. You put your best foot forward but got hit with “We have decided to go a different direction.” You had the confidence to apply before that but suddenly you’re questioning everything. Was my haircut off? Did I answer the question wrong? Should I exist?

Hearing “No!” when you wanted “Yes!” is tough. But looking back, most of the thousands of rejections I’ve faced in life now feel like the were secret nudges from God saying, “Not here. Not them. Not yet.” Of course, I didn’t like it. I still don’t. In the moment it’s raw and painful and often hard not to take personal. But I’ve learned to accept it and trust it. And by “trust it,” I mean spending hours complaining about it loudly to all the people around me. Sorry, babe!

Here’s an example. Years ago, I was pitching a Greek audiobook idea to Christian publishers. Rejected. “Too risky!” they said. Later, I pitched a New Testament Introduction book, along with my friend, Dr. Fred Long, and…rejected again. Too different. So after talking with Fred, we said, fine, we’ll do it ourselves. We launched GlossaHouse. Thirteen years later, we’ve published nearly 200 works with over 250 authors and content creators. And we still haven’t been invited to the little cool kids’ table they’ve tried to create and maintain. Lololol! I have zero interest in sitting there anyway. That’s just not me. Never will be.

Anyway, at the time, I couldn’t see it. The rejections felt personal. It seemed like maybe I wasn’t good enough. But the truth was, I just needed to stop knocking and start building. Boom! Stop knocking and start building, y’all! The rejection, you see, wasn’t the end…like at all. The rejection was the redirection. And once I stopped sulking and started innovating, it turned into something far better than I ever pitched, something way bigger than I could’ve fathomed.

Last night, I was walking to a comedy show to perform and I saw a guy in a wheelchair on the sidewalk (pic below). He had a tablet screen above his head that told jokes as people walked by. Text and audio both. That alone was impressive. But then I noticed another tablet in front of him. And then I realized he was drawing. With his forehead. He had a digital pen strapped to his forehead and was making caricatures of people passing by. I just stood there, stunned, thinking, well, I’ve got no excuse left for anything, ever.

This man, who clearly has faced more rejection in ways I will never understand, didn’t quit. He didn’t use it as a reason to fade away. He did the exact opposite! He turned it into a form of art and joy and, even more importantly, he shared it with others! Here he was, cracking jokes and drawing faces, probably being the most creative person within a fifty-mile radius. And he was doing it with his head. Not metaphorically. Literally!!!

You know he’s faced rejection. Maybe from the world, maybe from his own body, maybe in tons of other ways. But he didn’t let it stop him; instead, he found a gift in it. And more than that, he found a purpose. It was humbling. I’ve seen guys on the corner with cardboard signs saying “Will work for food,” and then I see this man in a wheelchair drawing with his forehead and making strangers laugh. The contrast is jarring. And I don’t say that to be cold, I say it because we all need a good reminder.

When I left the show two hours later, he was still there. Still telling jokes. Still drawing. Still showing the rest of us what grit actually looks like. He should’ve been on stage with me and the other comedians! He deserved it. But he didn’t need applause because he had purpose. That’s the thing about rejection: it can either send you spiraling or send you creating. You just have to choose which. Let me say that again. That’s the thing about rejection: it can either send you spiraling or send you creating. You just have to choose which.

Rejection isn’t just a teacher. It’s also a bodyguard. It’s protection. Sometimes the job you didn’t get, the relationship that didn’t work, the institution that said no, those were your blessings in disguise. You thought you were being kept from something good, but what was really happening was you’re were being spared from years of future therapy.

Ever look back on a decision and think, “If that had worked out, I’d probably be in a padded room somewhere”? Yeah, most of us probably have. That’s why I’ve come to believe that rejection is less about doors slamming shut and more about God gently sarcastically saying, “Hey Stupid! Try the side entrance.” You just have to discerning, which isn’t easy, and then be willing to move, which also isn’t easy. A lot of people, they’ll get told “no” and then treat it like a permanent identity. No, no, no, and now…they live there. They set up their own little Camp No, decorate it with all the trappings of bitterness, and start a whiny podcast about it.

But the wiser, better, healthier, more hopeful thing to do is pivot. Reroute! Turn the no into a not-yet. Turn the closed door into a launchpad. You want to know the trick? Here it is: realize that rejection is less of a roadblock and more of a springboard. That’s it. (I just realized I’m kinda going bold+italics crazy in this post for some reason.)

One person says no. One job passes. One door shuts. One relationship ends. Great. Now, use it to jump higher. Use it to move forward. Use it to build something they’d never approve of. Use it to carve your own lane. Use it like that man with the tablet strapped to his forehead and become the only person on earth doing what you do in the way only you can do it.

There’s an old quote from the Trappist monk, Thomas Merton, that’s stuck with me for years. In his book, New Seeds of Contemplation, which has long been part of my personal library, we find this stunningly simple insight, which, I admit is a bit lengthy for a post such as this, but it’s also worth the read:

A tree gives glory to God by being a tree. For in being what God means it to be it is obeying Him. It ‘consents,’ so to speak, to His creative love. It is expressing an idea which is in God and which is not distinct from the essence of God, and therefore a tree imitates God by being a tree. The more a tree is like itself, the more it is like him. If it tried to be like something else it was never intended to be, it would be less like God and therefore it would give him less glory….Therefore, each particular being, in its individuality, its concrete nature and entity, with all its own characteristics and its private qualities and its own inviolable identity, gives glory to God by being precisely what He wants it to be here and now, in the circumstances ordained for it by His Love and His infinite Art. The forms of individual characters of living and growing things, of inanimate beings, of animals and flowers and all nature, constitute their holiness in the sight of God.¹

In other words: in being ourselves, we’re most like God. Isn’t that kinda mind-blowing to think about? And isn’t it incredibly cool? And insanely freeing? It should be! So yeah, remember this: rejection is often how God removes things that weren’t meant for us in the first place. Sometimes, it might just be his way or, perhaps, even someone else’s way, of clearing the path for us. Yes, it often hurts. Yes, it usually stings. Yes, it can mess with our ego and pride. But, but, but…it might also just save our soul. Yes, rejection is hard. But it is often a gift. It is often a really weird, inconvenient, annoying, perfectly timed, life-altering gift. So accept it and start building.

1. Merton, Thomas. New Seeds of Contemplation (New York: New Directions, 1972), 29-30.