I pulled my phone out of my purse after dinner with friends last night. I had 79 messages. All from angry author friends.

I read each of them, responded where necessary, and then proceeded to sit with the subject of everyone’s anger for the next several hours.

The details aren’t mine to share here. But as I read those messages, I kept thinking about what happens when authors put their money, time, and trust into something that doesn’t deliver.

I’m just going to say this here, loudly, and as a preface to the rest of this post: I don’t have an answer that will fix this particular mess for my angry author friends.

As I’ve been mulling over the situation and thinking about how I can show up for my author friends and serve them well, several things have come to mind.

For those of you who read A Seat at the Table as well as Ink & Intention, you know this has been an especially difficult season—well, four seasons—for my family regarding relational church hurt. I’ve written about it pretty extensively over there.

The reason I’m sharing it here is that there are aspects of that journey that apply to us as faith-forward authors as well. One of the ideas I keep coming back to is this very simple, yet sometimes difficult practice of examining fruit.

Before You Enter Your Credit Card Information

While shiny object syndrome isn’t something I struggle with—mostly because I’m a cheapskate—it is a struggle I hear about from my authorly friends and author clients all the time. See, what happens to so many of us as authors is the Fakebook gods (lowercase) see what we’re looking at, and then they throw every single author-esque offer into our news feeds.

Then, because we’re readers as well as writers, we get sucked into clicking. And, well, you know what happens next.

It’s not just the Meta algorithm that gets us, though. Those offers that land in our inboxes entice us as well. And before we know it, we’ve spent thousands of dollars on programs, courses, masterminds, and empty promises.

But here’s the thing I’m starting to preach as loudly as humanly possible: Look at the friggin’ fruit before you enter your credit card information!

I said what I said.

I’m not talking about reading only the reviews and recommendations these marketing gurus have chosen to share with the general public. No, I’m talking about doing a deep dive into the interwebs to see what real people—not bots or paid representatives—are saying about their experiences.

Reading what people have to say about coaches, programs, and masterminds has saved me thousands—legitimately thousands—of dollars on programs I decided weren’t worth the investment. I look for what people who have worked with these coaches and companies have to say about whether commitments are honored and whether the promise has been fulfilled.

When someone shares a review from a former client, I look for the client’s social media. Sometimes I even search out a website. People are pretty open to sharing their experiences. It doesn’t hurt to email or DM someone whose testimonial appears on the website to ask what they would say about their experience.

I’m willing to spend 30 minutes looking before I spend hundreds or thousands of dollars. If that time saves me money and headaches moving forward, I’ll gladly sacrifice it. Hearing what others have experienced firsthand helps me assess the results of the people running these programs.

Even careful research can’t guarantee someone will keep their promises. Hear me when I say this: trusting someone who misrepresented an offer does not make you responsible for their failure to deliver.

When the People We Trusted Let Us Down

Here’s the other thing, though — while this can help us make informed decisions moving forward, it doesn’t heal the wounds left by the people, coaches, and offers we’ve been burned by in the past.

I think we have to pause for a minute and talk about what to do with the wounds we’re still healing from—the ones inflicted by the people and programs we thought we could trust. Deep breath here, authorly friends.

For many of us as faith-forward authors, we put our trust in other Christ-followers and their programs because, well, they also claim Christ. So we expect Jesus-like behavior from them. Unfortunately, as I’ve learned through my experience with relational church hurt, the sad reality is this: not everyone who claims Christ actually acts like Christ.

I’m not talking about “nobody’s perfect.” We all know that. I’m talking about false promises, unfulfilled commitments, and value that never came, all cloaked in the name of Jesus. Here’s the crux of it: cloaking offers in the name of Jesus does not remove people from the responsibility of delivering on promises or treating people well. If anything, it adds more weight to those responsibilities.

But sometimes, that is not what we experience at all.

Our Fruit Matters in How We Respond

So how do we respond when we encounter people and offers cloaked in Jesus that reflect the polar opposite of Jesus?

Maybe that’s where you are today. You signed up for a program, a course, a mastermind, a promise, and what you received was something completely different. You thought you could trust the person or business because of their claims to faith. And now you simply don’t know what to do.

I don’t think there’s a one-size-fits-all answer. But if you have found yourself in this place, are still healing from the wounds, and are sitting in the “what now?”—I see you.

I can’t tell you what the next right step is for you, but I do believe it needs to be nudged by Jesus and consistent with the person you want to be.

• What does it look like to make sure you are responding in love instead of hatred?

• What needs to happen to reclaim your joy?

• How do you respond so you can rediscover your peace?

• What does patience look like in how you respond to these folks?

• How do you ensure you are treating everyone with kindness instead of hostility?

• How do you maintain your goodness in your response?

• What does faithfulness look like when keeping your integrity is difficult?

• What does gentleness look like in your words?

• How do you maintain self-control in your engagements?

Living out the fruit of the Spirit does not mean we should ignore our feelings or refuse to acknowledge our anger. And it doesn’t mean we have to have healed before we can respond with integrity. A firm boundary is not automatically hostility, and another person’s displeasure is not proof that our response lacked love. However, it does mean we have to examine our hearts and our actions and make sure they are truly being guided by the Holy Spirit.

This doesn’t make us weak, doormats, quiet, or complicit in mistreatment. But the fruit should guide how we respond and treat people.

It doesn’t mean we let people bulldoze us, but it does mean we respond with honesty and clarity without attacking. It doesn’t mean we let ourselves be taken advantage of without advocating for ourselves; it means we advocate with confidence without becoming hateful or vindictive.

We can ask for a clear explanation of an unmet commitment, request a refund, document our own experience, or end a business relationship.

To My Friends Behind Those 79 Messages

For my friends behind those 79 messages, I wish I had an answer that would fix this. I wish I could get back the money, time, and trust you invested. I can’t, and I’m not going to insult you by pretending a few paragraphs about the fruit of the Spirit make any of this hurt less.

But I do want you to hear this: you can tell the truth about what happened. You can ask someone to honor a commitment. You can decide you’re done doing business with them. None of those things automatically means you’re bitter, unforgiving, or failing to act like Jesus. You can be angry about what happened and still be thoughtful about what you do next.

Before you send the email, make the call, or decide to walk away, give yourself enough room to ask Jesus what faithfulness looks like in this particular mess. You don’t have to have the entire situation resolved to take one honest step. And you don’t have to make yourself available for more harm while you figure it out.

Look at the fruit, authorly friends. Let theirs inform who you trust, and let yours guide what you do next. Someone else’s failure to honor their word does not get to determine how you live yours.

Reflection Questions

1. What would help you evaluate an author program beyond the promises and testimonials on its sales page?

2. If a coach, publisher, or program has let you down, what do you need to acknowledge about that experience before deciding what comes next?

3. What is one step you can take to advocate for yourself while letting the fruit of the Spirit guide your response?

I write in two spaces. A Seat at the Table is where I explore faith, healing, and making room for honesty after it’s been made complicated. Ink & Intention is for writers who want to show up with clarity, discernment, and integrity—especially online.

I’m also the author of Breathing Again and several guided journals, and I work with writers who want thoughtful, grounded support as they find their voice and shape what comes next.

If you’re a writer looking for thoughtful encouragement, practical strategy, and honest conversations about the writing life, you’re also welcome to join us inside The Visible Author Facebook Community.

If something here resonated, you’re welcome to explore more at your own pace. You can find everything in one place at KristenNeighbarger.com.