I plopped my head down on the giant conference room table, the throbbing pressure making it feel like it weighed at least 580 pounds.

My pillow? Piles of giant 11x17 papers strewn about haphazardly, marked by giant circles of red pen.

I stared blankly across the table to my co-worker, who looked about as haggard as I did.

"I hate it," I groaned, rubbing my eyes. "I officially hate all of it."

Suddenly, epiphany and relief spread across our faces.

"It's done!" we proclaimed!

"It" was the behemoth of a publication known as the college magazine, which I worked on twice a year back in my higher ed marketing days.

Along with writing a few articles, as one of the magazine's primary editors, I would end up reading the articles no less than five times (often more) before they would go to print.

The final day of editing had become somewhat of a ritual. My co-worker and I would set up shop at our giant conference room table beginning at 10 am, drag one of our other unlucky coworkers in on the job, and grab a stash of snacks.

Then, we'd determine who was using which color pen (I was always red) and round robin the entire magazine, all laid out on giant 11x17 paper, doing a final read through for edits.

"Should this be an en dash or an em dash?"

"Is it alumnae or alumni?"

"Wait, we used this title somewhere else already."

The only interruption to the scritch scratch of our pens would be passionate and sometimes heated grammar and comma placement debates.

(Obviously, I was #TeamOxfordComma.)

About five hours in, hilarity would ensue, everyone would be getting punchy, and we'd read the same sentence 15 times.

Finally, through brain fog that felt like a bucket of mashed potatoes, someone would always slam down their pen and declare:

"I hate it. I hate every single word. I never want to read this ever again."

And without fail, that was how we would know it was done.

If we didn't absolutely despise every single word, it wasn't done yet.

But the second we couldn't stand to look at it anymore, we knew that we'd reviewed it enough and caught every error we were ever going to catch.

Why do I tell you this story?

Because if you aren't kind of a little sick of talking about what you do, you probably haven't talked about it enough.

There's so much noise and competition in marketing.

And it takes people a bunch of times (7+ to be exact) of hearing about what you do to be inspired to take action.

And because of algorithms and open rates and things like that, they won't even hear about it every time you talk about it.

Which likely means you need to be talking about what you do a lot more than you are.

To the point where deep down, you're a little sick of it talking about it.

Not like you hate everything of what you do — that might be a different prompting from the Holy Spirit.

But if you give a little internal sigh and think, "Haven't I talked about that a ton already??"

Your audience has likely only just begun to hear it.

And the message God's put on your heart is worthy of being shared — even if it is a little bit of a sacrifice to talk about it again.

For His greater glory,

Emily