what you don’t want to do

One of the many benefits of being in a small group with Kendra (from My First Kitchen) is that sometimes, she cooks and asks us to test it out. Once she made cheesecake. And it was (and I’m not exaggerating or being dramatic) the best cheesecake I’ve ever had. And that includes The Cheesecake Factory and Cheesecakes by Alex.

image from Kendra, My First Kitchen

All of us loved this cheesecake so much, that we started to tell Kendra how much she could make by selling them. She mentioned something about storing them all and so we told her she could invest in a big freezer and get cool packaging and come up with a cool name like Kendra’s Cheesecakes. We didn’t notice how quiet she was because between bites, we were busy nodding and agreeing about what a good idea this was and we nearly had her on Oprah’s Favorite Things episode.

There was only one problem: Kendra didn’t want to sell cheesecake. And when she said it out loud, it sort of stopped the conversation and we got back to simply enjoying the cheesecake.

Knowing what you want to do is important. But knowing what you don’t want to do can be even more so. My writing mentor, Bonita Lillie, wrote in her email for writers this week about how only you carry the vision for your writing (or your business, your parenting, your career, your ministry). No one else does. Wisdom from others can be a wonderful thing, but just know when you seek counsel from him and them and her and Oprah, it can also breed chaos and confusion. It was only when the other voices quieted that she was able to discern where her writing heart beat.

“And in the stillness, when all other voices were silent, I heard His voice speaking to me. And He was leading and guiding and clarifying and redefining. The vision became clear. And with that clarity, I was empowered to make decisions. Instead of yielding to or even entertaining every request put before me, I was able to say, “I do this. I only do this. I don’t do that.”  Freedom!?? Dearest writer, you are the sole carrier of the writing vision God has given you. No one else has it. You are the visionary. Trust the vision.”  -Bonita

So just because you make a great cheesecake doesn’t mean you are supposed to sell them, even if everyone tries to tell you that you should. Even if you could make a lot of money for them. Even if it makes a lot of sense. Even if people say you’re crazy for not. Only you carry the vision. The better you communicate that, the more content and effective you will be.

To subscribe to Bonita’s weekly email for writers: bonita(at)bonitalillie(dot)com

Thinking about blog purpose? Check here and here.

monday light on tuesday morning

When we first walked through this house, my least favorite thing about it was the darkness. Dark ugly paneling, cornice boards on the windows, dark paint colors, vertical blinds, and lots of trees. Just dark. One of the first things we did was rip down all those cornice boards and open the windows wide.

Today, one of my favorite things about this house is the light. The back of the house gets morning light, perfect for our sunroom. So in the evenings, we get a warm, golden light on the front of our house.

Since we knocked that wall down in our living room, the evening light spills all the way across and it is my favorite place in the world to be. I knew this was the house we were to buy, but at first I wasn’t happy about it. Too dark. Too depressing. Too dated. But we’ve made it home, so much so that I hope we never have to leave it.

Is there a gift that didn’t start out that way? Are there small, subtle gifts in your hands even now? The guidelines for Tuesdays Unwrapped are here. In summary, link up with the permalink to your unwrapped post, or your link will be deleted. I would also ask, as a courtesy, that you would please link back here to Chatting at the Sky by either using the button or a text link somewhere in your post. Thank you.

tuesdays unwrapped at cats

an update

Thank you all so much for the thought you put into helping me on Thursday. Even more, thank you for reading, for supporting, for saying encouraging things and for being your encouraging selves. Not having a title for your book is like not having a name for your baby . . . a week after she is born. And she sleeps there in her crib without a monogram on her blankies. Everyone asks what you call her and you start to describe the color of her hair and how much she weighs, but really they kind of just want to know her name and maybe a middle name and then they will move on.

In other news, we got a dog. Oh wait, I already told you that. It’s been three weeks and the thing I never thought would happen has happened. It feels normal. Still, our cable, phone, and internet were out for two days because of the fence we had put up because of the dog. And the dog has now chewed on nearly every piece of furniture I own. And I now say No, Finn and Who let the dog out? more often than I inhale. And I’ve cleaned up dog barf while singing Whoooo Let the Dogs Out? because that song is pretty much always in my head now. How can this possibly feel normal? I have no answers. But it just kind of does. I call it a miracle.

I hope you are having a fantastic Labor Day Weekend. See you on Tuesday for Tuesdays Unwrapped!

i need your help

If outward displays of service and compassion are the leafy foliage of a plant, the part you can see, touch, and point to, then our Christ identity is like the hidden roots that go down deep into the dark earth and hold it all up. Without the roots, the leafy plant dies.

I spent a lot of my time trying to make the flowers bloom out of sheer will. I wanted the beauty that came from a healthy, beautiful, blooming plant, but the only fruit I seemed to produce on my own was either dried out, too ripe, or simply not enough. Growing up in the church, I got the message that salvation is by faith alone, but life after that is faith plus my hard work and good disposition. I stayed strong when I felt weak and I faked happy when I wanted to cry because my ideal image had everything to do with put together and nothing to do with falling apart. I didn’t understand the mystery of Christ in you, the hope of glory.

I thought he wanted me to serve for him, to witness for him, to live for him. But that isn’t what he wanted.

I have become aware of the futility of my own efforts to please the God I thought was distant, passive, and expectantly waiting for me to get it right. I worked hard, I did the right things, I never got drunk, I sang in the youth choir, I went to Bible College, I married a youth pastor.

But it’s hard to bloom when you’re either doing so much for God and you don’t know why, or you can’t find the energy to do anything for him because it never seems like enough.

I was determined to get life right while also painfully aware of all the ways I was wrong. And so to cover for myself, I hid. I stayed hidden behind my sweet personality, my strength and responsibility, my fine-how-are-you’s and my servant heart, hoping that my paper face would cover for my inadequacies.

I was trying so hard to live for God that I missed the point. He never asked me to live for him. Through his Son Jesus Christ, he lovingly invites me to live from him. One letter makes all the difference.

Before we can be the hands and feet of Jesus in the world, before we can go out and love without condition, we have to first understand who Jesus is in us. Otherwise, we are living out a self-made gospel, a gospel that boasts all flowers and leaves but no roots, which is really no gospel at all.

The life of Christ in us makes the difference between the church and Hollywood or The Red Cross. And not just historical Jesus or on-the-cross Jesus or when-I-get-to-Heaven Jesus, but Jesus in me. Jesus living his real Jesus life through believers who trust that he died a real death and rose up to real life to make a true difference.

And so I’ve written a book about the roots, about kind of hiding we do when we fear we aren’t good enough, and the kind of finding God does because he knows he is. It’s a book about the hidden inside parts, about the invisible roots, about the impossible expectations I put on myself and about the God who lifts me up.

And this book has no title.

I am so nervous asking for your help. But help? Because I know you can. You are writers and creative thinkers. No idea is a bad idea at this point. I am stuck in my own head and I want to have some good ideas to offer to the marketing team. So if you have any good ideas, or even bad ideas, or medium ideas, this would be the time to put them in the comments. Or even if you just have a word or two words or an image or a fraction of an idea that you think could communicate the message of this book, that would be helpful too. Thank you and thank you. And thank you.

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