I was sitting in the editing room in the art building of my college, my latest video project staring back at me, taunting me through the bright white screen. Frustrated, tired, and ready to quit, I had been working for hours on a project for my Intro to Cinema Production class that was due the next day, and at that moment, at two o’clock in the morning, I figured that the thing that I was most passionate about just wasn’t worth it anymore.

I scroll through the clips that I had haphazardly thrown together in a sequence, and started to cry.

Nothing looked right.

Everything was wrong.

I was devastated.

Every person who has ever had that “thing,” that one passion that they put their heart and soul into, has gone through this experience. The exhaustion, the tears, the frustration, the thoughts of whether all of the struggle and sleepless nights would ever amount to anything.

The voices in your head aren’t a big help, either. It is a constant back and forth of knowing that you shouldn’t give up or your mind reminding you how much you want to just take the computer and slam it against the cold, cement walls of the studio.

However, in those moments, you just have to stop, take a deep breath, and remember why you started doing this stuff in the first place.

For me, I fell in love with the camera my junior year of high school when I worked on my video announcements team. The entire process of getting the perfect sound bite, the super cool angle, or catching a person at just the right moment, then editing it altogether for somebody else to enjoy was just the coolest thing ever to me.

I soon got bit by the bug and never looked back.

Those are the memories that stay with me during those late, tear-soaked nights in the editing room.

Then, lone and behold, the product is finished.

And absolutely nothing can compare to the ecstasy of seeing your project, shined and polished, whether it is a painting, a sweater you knitted, or whatever your talent may be, on display for everyone to see and knowing that, somehow, it very well could have an impact on someone who sees it.

Everything that I create, finish, or do, I want it to mean something, and I want it to glorify the Lord in some way. There is absolutely nothing that is worth doing if it isn’t honoring Christ. And if a project that I do leaves a mark on at least one person, than I have done my job.

As I go on in my schooling and in my film career, I have realized that people must always remember two things while they are sitting alone in the dimly lit room, unfinished product in hand: remember why you started this journey.

Those memes that you see on Facebook about how athletes should remember the little girl that fell in love with their sport, and that they should play for her? The same thing applies to those who create off of the field.

The second thing is that, as cliché as it may sound, keep in mind that this work isn’t yours, it is the Lord’s. He may have huge plans for it that you aren’t even aware of yet, and even if it ends up sucking, remind yourself that God can move through anything, even our failures. If it leaves an impact on one person, even if it is just yourself, always take pride in that.

This is your passion. This is what you were created to do. Go forth and push your way past the uncertainty and the panic attacks and show everybody exactly what you were made of.