When a Rock-Potato Post Wins the Internet
Sometimes the thing that gets the most attention is not the thing that matters most. Take social media posts, for example.
Do you ever spend too much time creating social media content?
I do. Some days, I’ll spend hours writing posts or creating social media graphics. Hours.
Sometimes it’s fun (but takes way too long) because I’m learning something new, like this animated post I created prior to a reader event at a local bookstore.
Like you, I have better things to do than tweak social media posts. Getting it “just right” can be a waste of time. Especially when there’s no guarantee that the algorithm will work in my favor and readers will actually see the post.
While I was fine-tuning, fixing, and figuring things out for the reader event post, a slew of notifications popped up on my phone screen:
While in Do Not Disturb Focus, Threads.
So many notifications! Way more than I had ever seen from Threads, mostly because I don’t really use the platform. Most of the time, I forget I even have an account there.
I didn’t even realize I had posted anything.
So what was with all the notifications?
It was a post I had inadvertently shared from Facebook. (I've since corrected the setting.) I had posted a quick picture of a rock and asked a simple question, knowing a few friends would have the answer.
It took seconds to post. Literally, less than a minute from snapping the picture to posting the question.
In other words, I wasn’t even trying.
It didn't stop there. Some of the comments got thousands of "likes."
For some reason, of all the things I have ever posted anywhere ever (yes, that is redundant on purpose), that silly post won the algorithm.
What. In. The. Wide. World?!
Thousands of likes, comments, and shares. And none of it mattered.
Sure, it was fun to see the numbers tick up, and I couldn’t help but read and respond to a few comments.
But did those likes and comments help me sell more books? No.
I may have gotten a few more followers on Threads, but for the most part, the commenters weren’t in my target audience.
All in all, the noise that post created was a distraction. One that kept calling me back out of curiosity. How far would it go?
And then, discouragement descended. The thing I had spent far too long creating got very little attention by comparison. All that time, for what? If a rock-potato post can win the internet, what’s the point?!
I couldn’t have made that happen if I’d wanted to.
Frustrated by the fickleness of social media, I had to remind myself not to get distracted.
Focus on what matters. Do the thing you know to do.
Journal your morning pages.
Go (back) to the gym.
Make time for what matters—prayer, Bible study, people.
Send the email.
Make the call.
Create the post. (But do it faster next time.)
Write the book.
Do the work, and for goodness’ sake, tune out the distractions and turn off notifications.
That's my encouragement for you, too. Trust the process. Believe that when you do the right things for the right reasons, it matters—even when the visible results are not what you hoped or expected.
You may never know whose life you touched by simply being faithful to the work you’re called to do.
So stay focused on the people you are called to serve. Show up for them. Encourage them. Create for them.
That’s the mission.
And it’s the only way to create meaningful work in a noisy world.
Story Practice
Take a few minutes this week for self-reflection. Let these questions help you clarify what really matters and where to place your focus:
What distraction keeps pulling me away from the work that matters?
Who am I actually called to serve with my words, work, creativity, or presence?
What is one meaningful thing I need to do this week, even if no one notices right away?
Choose one small action, and do it before you check the numbers, scroll the feed, or tweak the thing one more time.
