We’re about to land in Iqaluit! Hold on!

And—-we’re here! It’s 24 degrees today, but the wind chill makes it 6 degrees. But of course, we’re in the Arctic. Not Alaska. I’m on the other side of the continent, almost spitting distance from Greenland. We’re in Iqaluit, Nunavut, Canada.

This is a hard place to live. It’s rocky, with very little soil. There’s little vegetation. It’s massively expensive to live here. Winters are very long and dark. And yet—-there’s an energy here. I feel it. I see it. The town is growing so fast they can’t keep up with housing needs. I met a taxi driver from Ethiopia who will soon bring his wife here. He likes it here. It’s peaceful, he says as I’m look out the window at snow blowing across a landscape of mountains, scree and boulders.

We’re here for an international fisheries conference. My husband is one of the presenters. People are here from Greenland, Newfoundland, and all over Nunavut, a 2 million square kilometer area with just 35,000 people. I talked to two men from an island in Hudson Bay: they hunt polar bears, seal, catch arctic char summer and winter (under the ice). I am hearing about the ways every ecosystem is challenged and shifting because of climate change.

While I’m here, I’m still writing. I’m working on my book (yes—-still! It’s due in January.) This is what I love about being a writer. If I can pack up my brain and my computer, I can write anywhere. This week, I want to share something with you all about self-doubt. It can be crippling, you know?

I’m thinking of self-doubt this week because of Paul Newman’s new memoir/biography. I haven’t read it yet, but I’ve read most of the reviews. Do you know what so many are shocked by?

They’re shocked by Newman’s self-doubt and his discomfort with his celebrity status. I’m not shocked—-I’m comforted by it. This is a sign of health and normalcy. We’re twisted right now. Have you seen and heard how many contestants on the ubiquitous talent shows come on stage and say, “I want to be an Idol. I want to sell out arenas around the world.” Celebrities now want and expect to be idolized. They believe they deserve it.

It’s okay to doubt your abilities. Who does not, at times? The goal is not to pump ourselves up with so much self-confidence that we never question ourselves. If we never question ourselves, we’ll miss the true answers. I thank God for my doubts. Their niggling negative voices lead me to God’s voice. The conversation goes like this:

“You can’t write this book, Leslie. You don’t have what it takes.”

“I know. So true! But God will give me what it takes.”

“No one cares what you think, Leslie.”

“Yes but God has given me something to say.”

“You’re going to fail, Leslie. Your sermon will not be successful.”

“I don’t have to be successful. I only have to be faithful.”

“Everyone in the audience is looking at you. You better not make a mistake!”

“This is not about me. I’m just a witness to the goodness of God. “

I hope I never crush or quash all of my fears and self-doubt. What is wiser than doubting ourselves and trusting God instead?

Thank you for being here, dear friends! How have your self-doubts strengthened your faith? (And what doubt continues to cripple? Maybe we can help one another here?)