Thread by @HollyStallcup

I've been thinking about how to share some of these thoughts for awhile. This is not a subtweet at anyone, more some sadness, and I hope wisdom I can bring.

Some thoughts on platform, faithful work, enjoyable work, lifting up other's work:

I really dislike when NYT bestsellers and big conference speakers tell us to not worry about platform. When they call their followers/ministries "rag tag," "little crew," etc.

One of the most important things we can do with power is to own it, then we can steward it.

So I start these thoughts not as a NYT bestseller, but also acknowledging the size of my platform compared to many of you is large.

I often find myself appalled that some of you do not have more people listening to your voices. I want more people listening to many of you.

With that said: I am aching (and worried) for the conversations and posts and work I am seeing around platform. I have been there, and I am pretty sure I want to keep others from going there.

I think you should worry a lot less about platform size.

I know that is not what people want to hear. I know that many of you will feel annoyed and ignore this. I did that too. I know some of you will think you know better. I did too. (That is not to say I am all knowing, rather I want to say I have read words like this before.)

I have been doing vocational ministry, writing and speaking for 10+ years. I have had word documents where I kept tweets for future use. I have white boarded out strategies. I have asked bluntly for more followers. I have helped build Rise from a small group in my living room.

Organized strategy has a place. (The board can tell you I need to remember that at Rise.) But platform at it's best is RELATIONAL.

Relationships strategized are objectifying, followers as a means to an end. Platform growth to get to something is dehumanizing to you and others.

The Kindom is backwards and upside down. The tension of figuring out how to bring and reveal that Kindom here is HARD.

How much can we change while on the "outside" versus the "inside?" When do we need to be a part of the system to bring change to the system?

I am asking those questions, and I hope you are too. I am also begging us to be aware that being an "outsider," "wanderer," etc can become an insider system more easily than we think.

More and more, what I want is to be committed to consistent ethics no matter the consequences.

That means that I want my ethics to instruct my platform.

If what I believe is that people are made in the image of God, what does that mean for "platform building?"

If what I believe is that my work is for the Lord, what does that mean for "platform building?"

If what I believe is that God overthrows systems driven by and built on money, what does that mean for "platform building?"

If what I believe is that God's work for me is to be enjoyable, what does that mean for "platform building?"

These questions suck. Consistent ethics are complicated. There are not easy answers. Judgement and shame aren't going to help.

What do each of us do with our calls, passions, gifts? How do we take action in ways that honor ourselves, but also honor others?

How do we take action, without investing in systems that we see are not the way of the Kindom?

How do we live in a world where we need money to live, but hold that the love of money is the root of all evil?

What I can tell you, is that I am happier and feel more consistent in who I want to be, and who I believe God to be, since I let go of platform building all together. It sounds trite. It sounds naive. But for me it is deeply true.

Do I have many things from the Holy Spirit to share? For sure. Do I write incredibly well? Yep. Is my writing enjoyable for others to read? You bet. Do I LOVE speaking? Absolutely. Is the feedback when I do affirming? Yes.

But what am I willing to sacrifice for any of this?

If who I am is beloved (and it is), then I have the invitation to work (for the Lord) out of my belovedness. Period. I can share my thoughts and gifts and passions and let the Spirit move like the wind. Connecting me to INDIVIDUAL PEOPLE not number, avatars, followers.

Y'all a lot of days it sucks. I know my speaking gifts. I could walk onto any large conference stage & kill it. If I have the chance to, & feel like I can while remaining consistent, I will.

I wish I didn't count dollars at Rise every month. But man am I proud of who we are.

Has pitching my book for literal years been A LOT? Yes. But with my conviction (and the unwavering support of @KeelyBoeving) my book has remained what I know it is supposed to be.

And P.S.- My platform size has been the least of our worries.

I used to get so frustrated when people talked about the quiet faithful work, because God made me not so quiet. But I am getting it now, quiet faithful work is an invitation to keep my head down, hand on the plow, chugging away, resting, chugging away, resting, chugging away.

I get to follow the wind of the Spirit. I get to ask each day, "What is faithfulness?" I get to change course. I get to follow less people and connect more. I get to post when it feels good and not when I "need" to schedule it. I get to be creation responsible first to God.

I get to post unique content to each platform instead of the same pictures for the most exposure, because the repeats annoy me. In other words, I get to be ME.

My platform becomes an extension of my embodied life, not something I need to get to the next embodied thing I want.

Social media is an invitation to community, IF we treat it that way. (And regularly interrogate our motives for "building community.")

Freedom in community. That is the way of Jesus. When I am platform building, I lose my own freedom and my unadulterated community.

So, I think you should stop worrying about your platform. And really, I am sorry to tell you that, because platform building feels so necessary for what many of you feel called to do. Because I know you are aching to be heard, I know you feel the fire in your bones.

Me too, friend. But we have the invitation to create new ways, to build maybe not for ourselves, but for our children a Church where we learn to listen in creative ways we can only imagine right this moment. But we have to be willing to cast off the old ways first.