2011 March | chatting at the sky

for those of you with a message in your pocket

March 30, 2011

You have a dream in your back pocket, don’t you? Over the years, that dream has taken on many different names in your mind: Silly. Ridiculous. Hobby. Foolish. Impossible. Waste of time. You have called it that for so long, that you have never actually taken the time to consider how it got there in your pocket in the first place.

We throw trash away; we don’t put trash in our pockets. That dream is there because at one time, you saw that it had value. And so you tucked it away for safe-keeping. But doubt and fear have convinced you to keep it hidden, convinced you to rename that dream Wrong. What would it take for you to pull that dream out again, to stop taunting it with cruel names and to simply listen to what it has to say? No filters. No back talk. No eye rolls.

Dare to handle it, to hold it in your hands and consider it with kindness, with compassion, with (dare I say it?) goals. Are there tiny, itty-bitty baby steps you can take toward pursuing it? Can you at least pull it out of your pocket and hold it in your hand? Place it on the desk, maybe? Offer it up to the Dream Giver?

Three years ago, I pulled out a crumpled dream. And I put it in my suitcase and took it with me to a writing conference. At the time, I had zero ideas for a book, zero publications to my name, and zero idea what would come out of it. But the one thing I did have was the smallest shred of courage. I went to She Speaks during the summer of 2008 knowing no one and nothing. Except I had that small bean of an idea that maybe there was a possibility that I might perhaps be a writer a little bit. Maybe.

When I left the conference, I still wasn’t sure what would come of the dream. But I stopped taunting it with names. And I developed a small but respectable amount of reverence for the way God speaks to us through our desires. And I didn’t know it at the time, but She Speaks that summer was my first giant leap toward discovering my message. And the next summer at that same conference, I pitched Grace for the Good Girl to an editor, and that is why I have a book coming out in September.

And it started with a crumpled dream in my back pocket.

This summer, during the weekend of July 22 – 24, I will be back in Concord, NC at this conference I have grown to love. And I will lead a breakout session with my friend and editor, Andrea Doering. There will be opportunities for speakers and writers to develop their craft. Lysa will head the whole thing up with grace and encouragement. Mary DeMuth will talk about fiction and memoir writing and Marybeth Whalen will too, and Renee Swope will be debuting her new book, A Confident Heart. Literary agent Rachelle Gardner will talk about writing book proposals that sell, and our dear Ann Voskamp will be presenting the closing keynote. And there are so many more.

Today through April 2nd, Ann has been given the opportunity to offer a scholarship for one of you to attend She Speaks. I’ll let you visit her place for the details, but might I be a voice of courage for you today? What have you to lose by applying? The simple act of raising your hand could be the very baby step you need to take today, whether you win the scholarship or not. And while you are at it, go ahead and visit Amy Carroll at Next Step Speaker Services, as she is also offering a scholarship through April 3.

Are you feeling a little nudge? A little hope? A little excitement? I hope so. Pull that dream out of your pocket and listen to it sing.

Filed Under a friend, a writer, inspired 41 Comments

how to cure bad vision

March 29, 2011

Do you remember the sky in January of 1999? Because it was a deeper, richer blue than it has ever been before. And the clouds were fluffier and the sun was brighter and the rain was a gift and not a nuisance. It was the month I learned that The Man liked me back, and we’ve been together ever since.

That’s the kind of crazy thing that happens when you’re in love – your eyes see things different. And you look around and wonder how you could have ever missed all these gifts exploding from every rock and tree branch.

When you know you are beloved, regular life looks different than it did before. But it isn’t just romantic love that does this – I think it’s bigger, more broad than just that. When you believe you play a vital role in the story, when you know beyond a doubts shadow that your art has meaning, when you are living as though God is real and not just a nice idea, things change. And snow on the azaleas is no longer an unwelcome delay to spring but a surprising, delightful morning gift.

Tagged art Filed Under inspired 29 Comments

thankful

March 28, 2011

After a weekend away, I’m merging back into the rhythm of home. Thank you for your kind and thoughtful words – the weekend was lovely, the women were kindred spirits, and I didn’t faint or burp or accidentally cuss into the microphone. I would say it was a win-win.

There is something beautiful about having the opportunity to say out loud those things that make you come alive, those beliefs that run deep and shape you from the inside out. I’m thankful for the time I had there and this place I have here–to speak truth, to breathe deep, to make art.

And also? It snowed this morning. It’s almost April. Amen.

Filed Under breathe 26 Comments

the choice

March 25, 2011

And so I decided I want to make art that means something to me. I don’t want to let Fear muddy up the clear waters of faith. So I say yes, and for exactly two and a half minutes, it feels good to take a risk.

But then Fear’s besties show up: Panic and Anxiety. They stand breathing heavy right over my shoulder, and it has been my habit to turn around and hold their hands, rocking to their rhythm, crying with them in the dark. But there has been a rescue. Jesus came to give me the option to make a different choice.

This art is so much bigger than me, my influence, my insecurities, my stories. I’m speaking this weekend at a retreat in the North Carolina mountains. I don’t normally say yes to speaking. I’m a writer, you see. Writers like to have the space to weigh the words we say and take them back, if need be. But this message is burning holes, and it’s time to get up from the writing of it and step in to speaking it – to look into the eyes of women like me and see if we have anything in common.

Fear and his friends still stand behind me, but I am choosing not to turn around.

Filed Under Grace for the Good Girl, inspired 40 Comments

14 ways to make mediocre art

March 24, 2011

Preach.
Make love to Fear.
Apologize a lot.
Try to measure your impact.
Compare yourself.
Fear the success of others.
Stay comfortable.
Have imaginary conversations with your critics.
Hold on to regret.
Wait until tomorrow.
Demand appreciation.
Be easily offended.
Do it right.
And by all means, don’t take a risk.

Tagged art, writing Filed Under inspired 64 Comments

when your art has a life of its own

March 23, 2011

A struggling screenwriter finally had an idea for a story. He was excited about it, but there was only one problem: his story came as a book, not a movie. So he called up his agent to tell him the bad news, as they both “knew that first novels take forever and sell for nothing.” Even worse than that, his novel was about golf, so it had even less of a chance of being picked up by a publisher, not to mention small hope of success.

“To my amazement, the book succeeded critically and commercially better than a anything I’d ever done, and others since have been lucky too. Why? My best guess is this: I trusted what I wanted, not what I thought would work.”

Steven Pressfield, The War of Art

But first novels take forever and sell for nothing! And he was a screenwriter, not a novelist. He was supposed to be writing movies, not books. If Steven Pressfield had listened to his inner critic, The Legend of Bagger Vance would never have been written. And it definitely should never have been a success.

I’ve not read the book but that’s not really the point. The point is, he wrote it anyway. He wrote it because he couldn’t not write it. He wrote it because he did what artists do and believed in the creative process. He says “the idea came as a book, not a movie.” The idea had a life of its own. An artist respects that, and trusts his instincts.

One of the most difficult struggles for an artist (besides a crippling fear of failure) is to trust her instincts, to believe in her idea even though it looks different, seems illogical, feels terrifying. Great art has a life of its own, and great artists have the instinct and the courage and the heart to allow the art to finally breathe.

And sometimes? The book becomes a movie anyway.

Filed Under a writer, inspired 29 Comments

she names herself thankful

March 21, 2011

She takes great delight in the beauty of creation, in the small, miracle gifts that show up in the everyday crazy. For those of us who know her story, it would be understandable if she weren’t able to appreciate the beauty of these small, simple gifts. She was hurt many years ago, hurt in the way that causes many women to rename themselves bitter, to hold on to anger and rejection and wear it like a cloak.

She chose a better way. She chose a life of beauty, of thanksgiving, of trust. She has lived that better way for many years alone. And so on Saturday, when it seemed God reached his long arm into the future and picked up the sweetest summer day, dropping it down right on top of us, no one at the wedding was surprised. On that borrowed day, we celebrated the kind of redemption that can only come from his hand, the kind that is made out of ashes and broken pieces. And we all accepted the fact that he had brought this impossibly beautiful weather just for her.

She didn’t know there would be a forever love in her future. But she trusted anyway. She lived beautifully anyway. All those many years ago when her heart was broken up, the Lord knew this day was yet to come. He knew, and he took her by the hand, even then, and led her forward. There in the past, he was here in the future, and he knew. And this weekend, we joined him in the place he already has been, and we celebrated together.
It may feel comfortable to drown in the sorrow, to rename yourself bitter, to decide that your life is already decided. But what if the future isn’t so gloomy? What if there are plans we know nothing about? Even better, what if we believed that we don’t have to wait for joy and goodness and love to show up later? What if we believed they were available to us right now?

Filed Under a sister, faith 42 Comments