I am shutting down my blog for now, my friends, as I take time to consider the direction my writing will take. I appreciate every one of you who have joined me on this two year journey and I will miss you. Have a peaceful and joyful Thanksgiving!
So, I have been contemplating my life. Where I am now....where I will be after our house closes on the 9th of next month...how on God's green earth we have come to be at this place where we find ourselves. You know, things like that. Just for the record, I have no answers. But I do see that I am going to need a little more flexibility in my life. So rather than have a regular posting schedule here on my funky little blog that is read by tens of people three times a week come rain or shine, I will instead be posting whenever the heck I feel like it. So there.
I feel so rebellious, so dangerous, so....naughty right now! The idea of living life with no schedule!!! Okay, seriously, I need you to know that I will only be posting when I have something fantastic to say that is entirely fueled by my passions and not by a posting schedule even though this violates all the rules of growing a wildly successful blog. Fortunately for me, this blog of mine is not yet wildly successful so I can afford myself this freedom. If you do not already subscribe to this blog via e-mail or in a reader, please check out the right margin and do that now. You know you do not want to miss a thing here and I am just making it easy for you. No need to thank me.
And by the way, the title has nothing to do with this post. I just like "Newhart" from the 1980's. Big perms, ugly sweaters with shoulder pads and Bob Newhart...what's not to love?
Yes, my friends, I am alive and well. Rumors of my untimely demise have been greatly exaggerated. I have, however, enjoyed a wonderful month of solitude...well, as much solitude as one can enjoy living with three sons. I have really missed all of you wonderful people though, and I am glad to be back. I can't wait to share all of my highly important and life-changing thoughts with you. I am sure you have slept little over this past month in breathless anticipation of what I might write. Okay, seriously, I really do have some things to say...just not today. I might possibly have let September slip up on me. Don't hate me for it.
I will be back on Wednesday, as usual. Have a splendiferous week!
When all of your writing comes from the deep places in your heart, but your heart is aching, dry and arid, it is difficult to string together words that will bring life to others.
Why write at such times?
It seems that many who write songs do their best work in the dark hour.
Some of the writing that has spoken to me the most has come from people who were transparent when hiding would have been easier, and watching them move forward even when broken has somehow brought life to me.
Hiding is easy and avoiding banal platitudes that are oddly suffocating is far more appealing.
Yet somehow people worth following are the ones who smell like the desert. They have known hunger and thirst and barrenness and can be trusted to bring food and water and life to someone else.
Can you really be an oasis if you have never known the aching need for one?
"All of my servants on their way to the High Places have had to make this detour through the desert...I bring my people into Egypt that they, too, may be threshed and ground into the finest powder and may become bread corn for the use of others."
--Hinds' Feet On High Places by Hannah Hurnard
My friend, Cee Lew, from beautiful South Australia has recently awarded me the Honest Scrap Award for honesty and authenticity in my blog writing. This was an honor to me as I have always sought to be both in everything I say, do or write. And Cee is a picture of authenticity herself. Pop over here and check out what she has going on in her corner of the world.
--Let me start this off by letting my tens of readers know that I am going to be changing my posting schedule (pronounced shhhhedule...I am feeling rather British today). Beginning next week, I will be posting on Monday, Wednesday and Friday only. I am backing off a bit to spend more of my writing time on another writing project. This means, of course, that I have to make my three posts a week count...no more of this silliness and nonsense. Yeah, we all know that won't happen. I am a pied piper of sarcasm and nonsense, especially on Fridays.
--Although one of the main objectives of this blog is to expose and do away with sexism in the church, I am about to make a sexist remark and so I am apologizing in advance for any potential offense the following remark may cause. Sick little boys and sick grown men are all the same inside: whiny. Now, I realize there are exceptions so do pardon my painting with such broad strokes. But I do have extensive experience with this so please don't try to convince me otherwise. I'm just saying...
--I had never seen "The Nightmare Before Christmas" until last night. If you haven't seen it either and you feel you might like to rent it, please lie down until the urge passes. Spend your money on something more worthwhile....like a down payment on a nice root canal.
--And finally, here is my nine-year-old son's bedtime prayer from last night: "Dear God, thank you for today even though I have been sick and feel like crap. Please heal me and David and help my Daddy make lots of money on his job. Hanging up now. Amen"
Yeah...I laughed out loud. Have a beautiferous weekend! (I made up a word just for you, Sharon)
You and I are innately designed to create. All of the beauty that surrounds us, but that we often take for granted was made by the God of the universe who also must create because it is His very nature to do so. And because we are His very image, it is also our nature to create. I have always had a personal theory that the people who are the most frustrated with their lives are so because they are not creating. Creativity comes in a million different packages and when the creative gifts we have been given remain unopened we can be nothing but frustrated and miserable because we are living in opposition to our very nature.
For years I shelved my own gift because I let myself believe there was no room for it in my life. Part of me felt dead and I found myself resenting what I had to do because I let it crowd out what I desired to do. A friend of mine a few years back challenged me to make room in my life for my writing and then guard it. She said that if I would set aside even a small amount of time to begin with, it would make all the difference. And so it has. And I have found myself again. Sue Monk Kidd says that creativity is "a conversation between my soul and me." The heartache comes when you and your soul are not on speaking terms. Have you heard from your soul lately? It is speaking to you if you will make time to listen. And if you are not intentional about it, it will never happen. Go ahead. Get reacquainted. It could very well change the course of your life.
I sat down last night to write my blog and I was totally unable to do it. My mind is so full of a thousand distractions and unanswered questions and what I really wanted to do was launch a full-on cyber rant with the hopes that I would feel better afterward. I opted for plan B and just unloaded in my journal. Oh, if those pages could talk. So this morning I have a crushing headache that my early morning exercise did not take away. The over-sized cup of tea didn't do it either. I said all of this to say that, people, I am at the end of it. I don't really know what "it" is, but I am so there. At the end. And that is all I have to say today. I will be back tomorrow with my jumble of thoughts and hopefully a head that doesn't hurt. I am overdue for a post on women so maybe next week I can pull that off. Hmmm. I guess this turned out to be a mini rant. Thanks for playing along!
This thing called writing has consumed me. I think about it all the time and when I am not writing I am trying to decide what path to take with this fine craft. When I was a little girl, I wrote stories all the time. I would go to my mother's office at the Chamber of Commerce and sit at the extra desk in front of a type writer and pretend I was a famous author and I would write outlandish stories about make-believe lands and people with strange names.
In college I took a children's literature course during which one of our assignments was to write a spontaneous melodrama that would be performed by everyone in class. I found my file of stories I had written way back then, pulled one out, tweaked it just a bit and turned it in. My professor and classmates thought it was genius and when I told them I wrote it when I was eight, they didn't believe me. How funny is that? But really, aren't the best stories in all of your life the ones you read as a child? My mama used to read "Goodnight Moon" to me, and my third grade teacher read "Where the Red Fern Grows" to the class and I would lose myself in the wonder of other worlds that someone simply made up. I swore to myself then that I would one day write stories that would make childhood magical for another generation of kids. And hopefully I will.
You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club.
-Jack London
These are pretty big words from someone who was born illegitimate, raised in poverty by a woman his mother gave him to because she didn't want him, worked in a cannery 18 hours a day, became an oyster pirate, worked in a jute mill, a street-railway power plant and then finally landed in prison for vagrancy. But, oh, when he turned his life around, what a writer he became. Words like these from people who overcame adversity and realized their dreams are fuel for my soul. Just thought I would share the love. Have a lovely day!
I tried three times to write this post, saying things that mean pretty much nothing to me. I got nothing. Nothing at all in me right now. I am utterly and totally exhausted, but every stinkin’ box in this house is unpacked and there is a very pretty Christmas tree twinkling in my living room. I may be wiped out but I am awfully happy to be where I am. Hope you are happy to be where you are. Have a lovely week!
Read more...
What kind of legacy is there in your family? Is there anyone in your family tree that made an indelible mark on you, that influenced who you are today? That person in my family was my maternal grandfather, Liston Elkins. He was a remarkable man and a born leader who cared far more about others than himself. He did much for our little Georgia hometown, Waycross, and when he died, they named a stretch of local highway after him. But what made the greatest impression on me was his voracious appetite for books and his passion for writing. He wrote for our local newspaper and had an opportunity to write for the Atlanta Journal and Constitution. But my grandmother didn't want to leave their small town, so he declined the opportunity and determined to fulfill other dreams within the borders of home.
My Papa wrote all the time, scribbling his thoughts on little bits of paper that he forever carried in his shirt pocket. He was a brilliant communicator in many ways, but the written word was his medium of choice and I marvel still that he never wrote a book. Much of what he did write was about Waycross and the people that made it great and I have always believed that people loved him so much because he celebrated others and cheered them on to greatness, never noticing the level of greatness that he, himself, achieved.
The passion to write that kept him at his typewriter is the very same passion that courses through me and draws me to my laptop when so many other things scream for my attention. My Papa's dreams of writing live on in me and what drives me is a deep desire to leave a legacy of words that will impact generations to come. If he could know what a legacy he left for me and how it has shaped who I am and who I will become, he would grin his mischievous grin, cigar clinched between his teeth, and he would cheer me on just as he did countless others before me.
Okay, not really an Oscar, but perhaps a small award of some kind for posting twelve whole times this month. This whole "rearranging of my schedule and shuffling of my priorities" thing is paying off. I'm all "woo hoo...I finally have time to write and pursue my passions!" If you find that you do not have time to live from your heart rather than from your to-do-list, I recommend you do some soul-searching and find yourself again. It is a beautiferous discovery! (why, yes, I did just make up a new word). Is there an award for that, too??
Read more...You know, everyone does crack. The question is, what is your crack? For some it is a five dollar cup of popular culture from Starbucks. For others it is some mind-numbing moments in front of the television because who doesn't need some "reality tv" at the end of your reality-filled day? For others it might be a quick trip through cyberspace or maybe just a nice nap. Me? Well, I like to unwind by doing just what I am doing right now. I love to write and, while I await the day that some publisher deems me worthy, I will be content to blog because at least that way I know that tens of people are reading what I write. It doesn't pay the bills yet but, oh, one fine day it will!
My second favorite crack is reading (if you are one of my tens of faithful readers, you already know this) and I usually get my daily fix of this"literary crack" at night. When taking a long trip in the car my crack of choice is original flavor Bubble Yum. I put a huge piece (or two) in my mouth and attempt to chew it and talk to my family while trying not to drool on myself. Dark chocolate is another provocative bit of crack in which I indulge on a regular basis, and by regular I do mean daily. Now, none of the things that I call "crack" and that I heartily endorse are dangerous or even particularly addictive. They just help me to enjoy my life a little more. This is perfectly alright. Sadly, I miss the time when spin class at 6:00 am was my crack. The only place I can now afford to exercise does not offer spin class and I do miss it because it made my daily "chocolate crack" habit less dangerous to my thighs.
None of this really matters in the grand scheme of things but I like to write about trivial things from time to time because, you guessed it, it relaxes me. And so I hope you enjoyed this little bit of "literary crack"....no need to search the sofa cushions for loose change or sell one of your children to pay for it. It's on me.
Have you ever had a dream, a dream you were so consumed by, and yet it seemed more elusive than winning an Oscar? I dream big dreams because I figure, why not? You really only get one chance so you might as well make it count. Henry Ford once said "You can't build a legacy on what you are going to do." Pretty profound in it's simplicity. So, I asked God if this could be the year that I run headlong into my big dream. I want to leave a mark like Oswald Chambers left a mark. I am different today because of the things he wrote....not just inspired or enlightened...different. Will God use you to make generations after you different, more like Him? Lord, let this be the year!
Read more...I originally posted this on another site on June 8, 2007...
I just can't get over this cyber fixation on blogging. Blogging, by any other name, is still just writing. In fact, it is just journaling and I have been doing this "amazing" activity since I learned to write, sometime in kindergarten. I have always used archaic implements such as paper and a pen, which by modern standards are not nearly as exciting as a keyboard made of plastic. And, of course, journals of old were not for public consumption except perhaps posthumously. I suppose ordinary things made public are of greater interest. Take sex for example. Sex behind closed bedroom doors has been happening uneventfully since the dawn of mankind, but put it up on a big screen, accompanied by huge tubs of popcorn, and charge way too much money and then you've REALLY got something interesting. People come in droves to see that! So those of us who have been "blogging" privately for decades in the privacy of our own homes are now being encouraged by the computer literate to blog. "You should blog...it is such fun...have you tried it?" To those folks I would like to say, "Why yes, for longer than you have been living and I have mountains of old journals filling my closets to prove it."
In truth, I am happy for the nou veau writers out there who, though mistaken in their belief that blogging is a new invention, are finding satisfaction in the written word. One day I hope to get paid for this great medium known as writing and, until then, I blog, I journal, I write and my heart is happy!
