I’m an ex-English major.

There, I admitted it. I took five semesters (that’s halfway through Junior Year) of literature, creative writing, and composition courses, and then switched majors. Twice.

Standing with my new department (Biblical and Theological Studies) during graduation, I felt like an imposter. I looked over at the English, Literature, and Modern Language Department, and I could see the people I’d grown into my adulthood with. Suffered through Sophomore Year Lit Analysis with. Critiqued Creative Nonfiction papers with until I felt I knew them. And I felt as though I had somehow betrayed both them and myself.

Obviously, I still liked writing. If you’ve read my About page, you’ll notice that I’m trying to publish the first in an entire series of fantasy books. Switching majors was probably the hardest thing I did during college. I felt lost.

So why, then, did I switch?

There were two main reasons. One, I felt that my literature courses were encouraging me to read dark, soul-depressing books and analyze them until they lost any truth but my own. Which is really not truth at all.

Second, I felt like my identity was coming from my writing. A common descriptive phrase among our college professors was that of a “writer who happens to be Christian”. It means that we as writers shouldn’t want to be labeled under “Christian literature”, which can often be an excuse to write poorly and ignore the dark and sin-stained real world. I did and still do agree that a Christian shouldn’t use their Christianity as an excuse to not take the time and effort to write something engaging, thought-provoking, and true-to-the-world. And I wouldn’t want my work to be pushed aside just because I’m labeled as Christian author.

However, I had placed the emphasis on the “writer” part rather on the “Christian” part. If I am a Christian, that means that I have literally died to myself. All of my desires, talents, motivations, sins, struggles—everything—are hidden with Christ in God. Christ is transforming me into his image. I am secondary, subservient. My worth is not defined by my own merit but by his.

So, I switched the phrase around. I’m not the first to call myself a Christian-who-happens-to-write, but I find it an important reminder to myself and a guideline for my writing. If I never publish anything but remain true to Christ, that is better. Even if the thought sounds heartbreaking.

So I changed majors. I burned bridges, lost connections, threw out any chance at references for grad school. I ended up with a degree that wouldn’t sound particularly relevant should I want to work as a librarian or editor, and I didn’t even have enough of the right courses to get an official minor in literature or creative writing that would at least add something to my resumé. I felt as though I was intentionally handicapping my future as a writer. Because, oh, how I still wanted to write!

So here I am, just under a decade later, trying to publish a fiction book without haven taken Advanced Fiction. With years of skipping between online Writers Digest courses and various critique groups trying to figure out what actually makes the first ten pages of a book interesting—not to mention the rest of it.

My path seems piecemeal and lopsided, and I really don’t know how, if ever, someone will choose to publish the first book in an eight-part high fantasy series by a debut author. Every agent rejection makes me feel as though I must have messed up. Maybe I should have kept my major, gone to grad school, taken the traditional path that would (hopefully) be at least a little easier.

But, whether my book is published or not, I know that it will have been God’s doing, not mine. I feel like he has called me, in this season, to write and to pursue traditional publishing for Free Those Who Believe. And no matter how heartbreaking it can be, I need to trust him and obey.

Because whether I get fifteen rejections or fifty-thousand, the only one who can make sure my book gets published is God. My book, in whatever form, is not there for my glory but for his.

When (if) my book is finally published, I want to write on the dedication page, “Who but God could have done this?” Because, really, who else could put my book in print through traditional publishing?

I know that everything I have comes from God, and I want to remember that. With every query letter, every critique partner, every competition I don’t win and book deal I miss out on, I can be confident that God has chosen this path for me, and he will bring me to an end that is not the one I imagined, necessarily, but one that is even better, because it will bring me nearer to him, for his glory.

So here I am: a Christian who happens to be trying to get published (even after switching my major) while trusting in the God who has brought me this far.

Because who but God could do this?