I could say I got a job with my MLL degree—and I’d be telling the truth. I leveraged my major to work as the Alumni Relations blogger while I was still at IWU, then parlayed that into an internship as a copywriter for a small business. When my internship was over, my CEO invited me to stay on; I’ll hit my two-year anniversary with the company in the spring.
Every time a professor crossed out a cliché, cut through a wordy sentence, or told me I was too smart to write such a lousy intro—those are the lessons that stuck with me. They help me write good website copy. I even wrote a couple articles for Forbes.
A big part of my job is trying to make our website better, to tell our company’s story or my CEO’s story in a way that makes sense to our clients. It’s fun to know that my writing can change the way people perceive the company.
But the truth is, I only use the practicalities of my degree for my day job. I don’t use the passion.
My work writing makes a difference—but not the kind I was hoping for. It makes a difference in how much we profit, which makes a difference in what type of Audi my boss is leasing this year. It makes a difference to my CEO’s reputation, since I sign his name to everything I write. And it makes a difference to the companies who buy our products, whose success I never get to see.
Working as a copywriter is something I fell into. I needed money at the same time my company needed an intern. And to be honest, it’s been a big disappointment in terms of fulfilling my spirit.
I didn’t choose the MLL major to become a copywriter for an ecommerce website. I picked it without a career in mind at all, just picked it because I loved it. I wasn’t good at anything else, but I was happy with that because I believed God could change the world with the words I wrote.
I still believe His words can change the world. But those aren’t the words I write at work. My best writing happens when I hole up in my third-floor apartment after dark.
I write blogs about relationships gone wrong and God’s love gone right. I burrow through my life until I churn up the hope that was buried deep inside. I write about redemption and what it means to be a woman. And sometimes, I take out my turquoise notebook and write just for myself, the things I’d never share in public. I scribble my way through pages I’ll need to burn in the backyard before I die.
This is where I find fruit—joy, peace, patience, even a little bit of self-control. I find God—truth, grace, conviction, sanity.
See, the reality is that even though I write web copy all day, my job isn’t about writing. It’s about encouraging the one other Christian in my workplace. It’s about trusting where God has me, when it isn’t where I thought I’d be. It’s my practice ground, the place where I’m learning what to say and how to behave, so I can be great when God calls on me.
Maybe you’ll take a different path than mine. You’ll find fulfillment in your career and be proud of the time you spend at work. You’ll even use your MLL degree exactly the way you intended.
But if you don’t—if your career isn’t what you thought it would be and you lay awake at night in your apartment asking God why you moved away from home for this job—you’re on the right path, too.
Your fulfillment isn’t tied to your MLL degree. Your purpose will show up at the right time, as long as you’re willing to flip over a few rocks to look for it. That’s the biggest thing God has taught me since I took this job. He hides my purpose in the unlikeliest places. Two years later, I’m finally starting to enjoy looking for it.
Megan grew up on a small farm in southern Indiana. After earning dual English and Writing degrees at IWU, she relocated to southeast Michigan to work as a copywriter. In her free time, she enjoys hiking local trails, horseback riding, and taking pictures. She loves visiting Indiana to see her niece and her horse, Chance. Megan also writes Earthworms https://megzilla99.wordpress.com/, a blog about hope, security, and God.