When I was ten a new family moved in behind us that also had a ten-year old girl. Our moms decided we should walk to school together. The girl, Jamie, became my best friend. We played Legos, and Kick-the-Can. We ate dinner and slept over at each other’s houses on a rotating basis. We rode bikes, splashed at the pool, danced to David Bowie, helped each other pick out homecoming dresses, visited each other at college, were in each other’s weddings, and still to this day, Jamie gets me on a secret special level—because she’s known me for so long, knows so much of my backstory.
When we were little, along with climbing trees, I loved to read and write stories. Jamie loved to draw. These things seemed as normal as any of our other activities. But actually our passions for these things were specific to our characters—things woven into our very beings.
Jamie recently came by my house for lunch. While my oldest grabbed a snack, Jamie asked her about college and her major and the question college kids often get asked, “What do you want to do when you get out?” Also known as, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” This is a very popular question this time of year with all the graduations going on. My daughter talked about her goals, dreams, and plans to get there.
“I always wanted to be an artist,” Jamie said emphatically, then turned to me.
“Did you always want to be a writer?”
“Always.” I nodded.
When we were young I knew Jamie was talented at art. Every drawing, pastel, or craft she did was amazing. When we were in high school she painted me a beautiful picture of ballerinas for my birthday. And she knew I was a bookworm, always reading. I geeked out about English class. These things have always been innate to us. What is that thing that tugs at your heart—that has always been a part of you?
In high school, I effortlessly confided in Jamie about my crushes and the family drama I would never want anyone else to know about, but somehow I hesitated when it came to sharing my writing aspirations. For me, it just sounded so outlandish—that I would want to become a writer—because who does that? Who gets to do that? So I followed a predictable path with a mission invisible to the outside world brewing inside my heart. Jamie, always being the braver one, declared an art major. We both graduated college, and ironically landed in sales jobs.
But guess what? Today, Jamie is an artist. Like a legit paints gorgeous abstracts of swirling color and sells her canvases with impressive price tags to homes all over the country.
And I am a writer.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” —Jeremiah 29:11
God had always planned it this way—equipped us to enact the very desires of our heart from the get go. He has plans for you, too. And they are as beautiful as one of Jamie’s paintings.
They say the thing you most want to be when you’re little, is most likely what you’re supposed to be when you grow up—set aside things like being Dora. (Yes, one of my daughters wanted to be Dora) This thing that you’ve always loved, looked forward to, somehow had a knack for, got energized from doing is the very thing God planted in your heart to do—to do well—to do often. When we’re young we haven’t heard yet that we are too short, too tall, live in the wrong place, that only guys do that, that we need to know someone, or we aren’t good enough at math to ever be able to do “that thing.” All we understand is that we love doing that thing, and we happen to be pretty decent at it.
As Viktor Frankl said, “We don’t invent our missions. We detect them.” They’re already in there! Embedded in us by our Creator. And our hearts lean that way instinctively. Our missions were so clear and obvious early on. What lights you up? That should be the first clue on your detecting journey as to what you are called to do. Did you ever tell anyone? Did you ever pursue that passion? It’s not to late. Not now. Not ever. To find it, and more importantly, to do it!
Sure, Jamie and I both had to work at our dreams. It takes commitment of time, energy, and money. Making dreams into realities requires support networks. We both happen to have fabulous husbands who cheer us on in our pursuits, but support could also come from a friend, coach, parent, mentor, an artist group, teammate, or classmate. It also takes thick skin. I can’t speak for Jamie, but I get way more ‘nos’ than ‘yeses.’ But it’s easier to invest in endeavors when you’re passionate about them, because you sense you were made for it, that God made you for it.
So take everything you can—each experience, lesson, place you’re put, absorb it all; use it towards your mission in life. The marketing, product positioning, and promoting Jamie and I learned in sales jobs now come in super handy when she pitches paintings to a gallery, or when I pitch manuscripts to an editor. Nothing you’ve done up to this point is a waste of time. You get to use it all, towards what you’re supposed to be doing. God will use all of it.
What did you want to be when you were little? Are you doing it? What’s stopping you? What can you use from where you have been to help you do that thing you were built to do?
God created you distinctly from every other human for a beautiful purpose. He poured all kinds of talents and loves and cravings and preferences into you. He assembled them all together when He made you. They’re all still there. Don’t let anyone tell you that it’s silly to do that thing or pursue that dream. Share it with someone you trust today. Start living your God-given mission! You’ll feel alive and vibrant when you do. You are the only one who can paint that picture, write that song, coach that team, run that program, teach that class, raise money for that cause, fight for that piece of legislation. God’s hoping you’ll accept His invitation to do the good work He created you to do. When you say, ‘yes,’ not only will you thrive, but the world will be a better place.
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My daughter came downstairs, her long, thick hair still wet from the shower. It had been a long day. She had one of those tired headaches that can only be solved with sleep, but she was staring down a 6:00 AM alarm waking her for school the next morning. She looked at me with giant blue eyes and held out her brush. “Could you please brush my hair? Really gently? I can’t do it softly enough myself.” This resonated so deeply. Do you wish someone would be gentle? Are you maybe not even able to be soft enough with yourself?
I’ve been blessed in the last couple of weeks to visit with some brilliant, gorgeous, strong women, who are basically rocking the socks off the world. But underneath the surface, these friends seem exhausted, run down. They’re juggling work, family, health, and the enigma of getting it all done, getting it all done well, and succeeding at this juggling act all of the time. One of my friends recently landed her dream job. But the dream job required a move and she’s exerting large amounts of effort trying to settle into her new space, meeting new friends, figuring out where to do anything—like get an oil change, and proving herself in this dream job. She’s with the opportunity, but starting fresh takes extra time and energy—more than normal. And she’s worn out.
Another friend is a sales rep and they’ve had a change in their product line. In good ways, but also in learn new and different strategies; reinvent the process kind of ways. Plus she has a medical issue. On top of her kids, marriage, house and groceries. And she’s slightly frazzled. Yet another friend has this huge, brilliant idea to create something new and exciting. This plan won’t pop into being by itself. It takes extra hours, extra mental capacity, on top of my friend’s current carpools, current exercise routine, current commitments. And she’s pumped up about this big beautiful idea God gave her, but trying to do it all—well it’s overwhelming.
And I’m praying for all of my friends in their busyness, praying for peace, and moments where they can slow down and find things that they can let go of. I’m praying for all these friends as I’m cramming writing time into every spare minute of the day, because my manuscript is due to my publisher in a week. My son has play practice? I’m there. With five resource books and my laptop spread across a row of seats in the theatre. My daughter has gymnastics. Same. It’s Saturday? Cool. I’ll set the alarm early and respond to the comments from my project manager until my cuties wake up. And, in the meantime….I'm still hustling to get it all done. Prep for Bible study. Write notes for my kids’ lunches. Log a few miles at the gym. Keep up with the mystical clothes hamper that is miraculously always full. How does it do that?
I LOVE doing all these things. I love my family. I love to write. I love Bible study. I’m doing these things today, just like I did them yesterday, and last week, because that’s what I do. I get the stuff I want to do done.
But my husband had to sit me down, and take the figurative brush out of my hands. His words were wise, but they felt sharp: You can’t do it all?
Hmm, I thought. Why not?
Husband: You are on deadline. This is not your normal. For the next week, let go a little.
My friends are swamped, but me? I’ve got this. Right? Let go? Of what? Not my kids. Not this sweet man talking to me. And the writing, well I kind of signed a contract. Thanks, but no thanks. I’m good.
Husband: Let’s order pizza tonight. Let the kids make dinner one night. What else is easy? Let’s do that.
Me: Okay, fine. I like pizza. Sounds good for tonight. I’m so agreeable. Problem solved. Moving on.
Husband: I’ll pick the kids up from school tomorrow.
Me: But you have work. I was fine with the pizza thing, but that’s plenty of help, thank you very much.
Husband: I know, but I can grab the kids. Not every day, but tomorrow. It gives you an extra hour.
Me: Silent, but insides screaming, I’ll do it. I’ve got this. I can do this. I can make it work. Because I want to. Because I can find a way. Because I hate letting people down.
But Brett is not suggesting, he’s telling, and he never tells me what to do. I must be manifesting the symptoms I see in my friends, that look behind the eyes, that I’ve got this, but it’s hard and any minute I might slip. It took courage and love for Brett to speak this to me. I glue my lips together and try to listen. I nod. It’s like God has grabbed me and is making me lie down. And these blunt words? They actually sound like gentleness, sound a lot like grace.
I needed someone to be gentle with me, and I didn’t even know it. I saw it in my friends, but not in myself. How about you? Do you wish you could be treated gently right now? Are you incapable of being soft enough with yourself?
The good news? Jesus is the Good Shepherd. He makes us lie down in green pastures. Meaning, when we’re burning the candle at both ends, staying up too late and remedying this routine with too much coffee the next morning (anyone?), Jesus says, “Stop. Lie down. Rest.”
He leads us beside still waters. Sigh. Did somebody say still?
Take a deep breath. Look at your to do list. What can you erase or delete? What are you trying to do, because you expect you to do it, even though maybe no one else expects it, or maybe someone else could do it just as easily? Can it be delegated? Can it wait a week? Is there someone you could ask for help? Could you pay someone to watch the kids for an hour or two, or to clean the house this one time, or even pay the $5 for Clicklist to do the grocery shopping for you? You don’t have to answer every text, call, and email as they pop on your screen. You don’t have to do it all. Period.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Be gentle with yourself. I know there is so much to do, great stuff, important stuff, deadline stuff. But you don’t have to do all of it. And when you can’t even be gentle with yourself, Jesus will be. He’ll soak warm sunshine into your skin, provide a moment where for some reason the house is quiet, or maybe He’ll have your spouse or friend or coworker unexpectedly tell you, “I’ll do this thing. I’ll make this call. I’ll write this note, so you don’t have to.” Accept the grace. Lie down. Don’t fill that still moment with another to-do. Fill it with Jesus. Hand him your hairbrush or your to-do list or your expectations, and allow Him to gently restore your soul.
I attended an event the other night put on by Ocean Accelerator encouraging entrepreneurs to be brave in their beginnings. There was a speaker, a panel, a commentator, a cool old theatre as the venue, and of course, networking. The crux of the evening was that if you have an idea, a dream, a business you want to start, a creative endeavor you want to explore—the first step isn’t easy. You have to bravely take that first step.
It’s hard to deny that brave beginnings are both a good idea in general and necessary to propel dreams into realities. But guys, it doesn’t end with that first brave step. We all need to take brave beginnings every day.
Years ago, I took the brave step of confiding in my husband that my lifelong dream was to become a writer. From there, leaving my first born at home with Brett one evening a week, I took the brave step of taking a creative writing class at the local college. Then another brave step to actually put my ideas to paper and write some short stories. It took all the courage from the Cowardly Lion’s medal to actually submit my stories for someone else to read and evaluate their worth. The result was one story landing in the anthology, God Allows U-Turns and another in Chicken Soup for the Soul. I’d been brave, but if I’d stopped there those would have been my only two stories ever in print. You guys, I still have to take brave steps with my writing. Every. Single. Day. This week I made a list of three brave things I could do to propel my dreams. They might have been easy things for you, but for me they would have been easier to talk about and put on my to-do list and stare at than actually execute.
What brave steps do you need to take this week?
Instead of keeping your thoughts inside your head, you might need to take the brave step of telling your spouse or best friend how you really feel about something. Maybe you’ll need to be bold enough to tell somebody, ‘no.’ No, I don’t have time. No, that doesn’t make me comfortable. No, it’s not okay for my kid to watch that movie, go to that party, or talk about someone like that. Perhaps your brave step will be to get out of bed, even though it’s really hard. Maybe you’ll need to call a counselor or someone else you trust and take the first courageous step towards help. Maybe you need to be daring enough to ask God for a miracle.
Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go." —Joshua 1:9
Our minds get flooded with ideas—some of them good, some of them bad, some of them neutral. But some of our ideas keep at us, keep nudging us, elbowing us, calling out to us from somewhere inside. These are ideas we can’t brush off. We need to take them to God, “Is this from you?” and if it is, if God shows us this is Him encouraging us, guiding us, moving us, then we need to act. Even when we’re nervous or unsure of ourselves. Because, guess what? Our ideas won't change the situation, make a difference, or change the world unless we act upon them.
My friend, Beth, was on a panel at this “Brave Beginnings” event. Her words resonate, “Sometimes brave beginnings look like fear. Sometimes being brave starts with something small.”
There’s nothing easy about being brave. It is almost always hard. Otherwise it wouldn’t take any courage at all. It’s hard to walk into a room full of people that you don’t know. It’s hard to leave a job. It’s hard to start your own business. It’s hard to admit you have a problem. It’s hard to confront someone you love about his or her problem. And being brave doesn’t have to be hugungeous. Often the biggest amount of courage is necessary to make the first call, say the first words, take the first step onto the stage, or the field, or towards recovery.
What is God calling you to be brave about this week?
You can do this! God tells us, “Do NOT be discouraged. Do NOT be afraid. I AM with you.” Even when your knees are shaking and your voice wavers. Even when last time you tried you stumbled. Even when you’ve never tried anything like this before. God is with you. Don’t be discouraged. Don’t be afraid. Take a deep breath and take that step forward. It doesn’t have to be big. It’s okay if you’re heart is pounding. God is with you. Be brave.
What three things can you do this week to bravely move forward? I’d love to hear.
You were created in the image of God. (Genesis 1:27)
You are Christ’s masterpiece. (Ephesians 2:10)
God has His hand on you for something special. (1 Thessalonians 1:4)
All of this is true. And easy enough for me to list in my head or on the page. Harder to hold onto in the throws of real life. Especially the days when we’re being evaluated, when we’re auditioning for something in this world.
In the past week my son had a try-out for a play, my oldest went through sorority rush, and I was waiting to hear back from a publisher on a proposal. In all of these arenas we are being evaluated by the world on some sort of input we presented--my son’s stage presence, my daughter’s conversational skills, and my writing. My son loves to act. My daughter’s personality is amazing. My writing is the thing I feel God has called me to do. And so, how we “perform” at these things is going to reflect how God made us to be—take them or leave them, but honestly none of us want others to leave them.
But it happens. We put ourselves out there. We audition for the things we long for, hope for, to propel our dreams. We get examined under someone else’s magnifying glass, because that’s the only way to take next steps, to get from A to B. And when we submit ourselves for review, we will be judged. That’s the nature of the beast. Was my son loud enough? Was my daughter witty? Did my writing pull the reader in? And just because one person checks the ‘yes’ or ‘no’ box next to these items doesn’t mean they’re true or not true. It is one person’s opinion on any given day. And although we know better than to let the world’s opinions influence us, they still do.
Is there anything you’re auditioning for today? Anything about your performance you’re waiting to hear back on? Are you maybe evaluating or judging yourself?
It’s the excruciatingly long waiting period that seems to be the worst for me. I’m guessing I’m not alone. Did they like me? Did I presented enough? I can go crazy town in the waiting space imagining all of the possible endings, the yeses and the nos, even the maybes and what that would mean and look like, and what I’d have to do from there. I waste my time and energy and stress out about imaginary scenarios in my head that might never even play out. And because I have this tendency, I need to work at getting out of this space. I have to be intentional. I need to shift my thoughts and focus on truth.
The Apostle Paul instructs the Galatians, “Don’t compare yourselves with others. Each of you must take responsibility for doing the creative best you can with your own life” (Galatians 6:5). Meaning it doesn’t matter what monologue someone else read, what story someone else told, what rave reviews another author’s book is getting. It also doesn’t matter what she wore, what her hair looks like, how many goals he scored or achieved, how much he gets paid, how many likes their post got, if they got invited or chosen, or what their grade or performance review said. It doesn’t. What matters are OUR inputs.
Did my son prepare for his audition?
Yes, he did.
Was my daughter brave enough to be herself?
Yes. She thrives at it.
Did I edit my work, get others to review it, and run spellcheck before I submitted?
Yes. Yes. Yes.
Did I pray over all of it? Yes.
Cool. Then we did our part.
Time to let go.
Because this is all God’s work in the first place. As it says in Proverbs 16:9, “The Lord establishes our steps.” God gave my son the desire to act, knitted each beautiful facet of my daughter’s personality into her soul, and placed in me a love of words and stories. God set us in these particular places in these particular times. And God made you exactly as you are, able to do the things you do, and He placed you exactly where you are—in that office, on that team, in that neighborhood, in that classroom, in that small group. And so…we bring our best, maybe or maybe not the world’s definitions of best, maybe not a specific director/sorority girl/editor’s/fill in the blank’s definition of best, but the best version of our true selves, of the people God created us to be in the first place. And that is a beautiful offering. This is all we need to bring.
When we do, we can trust that things will work out as they’re supposed to. “God not only loves you very much but also has put his hand on you for something special.” That means He wants the best for you. He’s looking out for you. He has amazing plans for you. And if this role, sorority, book, house, job, team, relationship, move, position is the one He wants you to have, by all means it will come to fruition. Yes, God asks us to do our part, but then we need to trust that He is the God that invented stars—burning masses of energy millions of miles away and that He put one star in particular close enough to earth to give us the exact amount of light and heat to live without freezing or combusting. Since He can do that, I’m pretty sure He can make the tryout or interview or test go as He planned.
Sigh. Such sweet relief in this spot. Now to stay there.
Even if things don’t work out as we hoped or thought they should, we are still exactly who God intended us to be when He created us. And He will still use everything for His glory. Hmm. So I don’t have to rethink the whole thing?
If God had wanted us to be more or less melodic, more or less of a jokester, less or more intense, better at geometry, saltier, sweeter, taller, shorter—He would have. But instead, He designed us exactly how He envisioned us to be. This means we don’t even have to impress God. This leaves me speechless.
When we really let that sink in, it doesn’t matter what the results of the evaluation are, because, the One whose opinion matters most is that we’ve already got the part. Breathe that in today. Whatever you’re waiting for. However you’re being graded or rated or judged. You were handpicked by the Almighty.
You don’t have to prove yourself. You’ve already been chosen. Cling to that while you're trying out, while you're waiting, and most importantly once the cast list is posted--whether your name does or does not appear on the list.
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My husband and I joke that God’s voice might sound a whole lot like James Earl Jones'. We were reminded of that tonight. We had a family movie night and watched Field of Dreams. I hadn’t seen this movie since it first came out, which was closing on twenty years ago—yikes! But I still remembered the key line, “Build it and they will come.”
You guys I feel like that all of the time. Like God is whispering to me, “Write it and they will read. Write about your kids’ soccer games, what a bad driver you are, how you let a squirrel into church, peanut butter, that book you read.”
And I think, “Eh? Really? Who wants to hear about that?”
And God, says, “Write it. Write if for Me. I’ll do something with it.”
And so I write. And I hope someone will read the words. But more importantly I pray over each blog that it will somehow impact somebody out there, that someone will understand how much God loves them just a little bit better. That someone will truly believe in their bones a milli-moment more that they are uniquely created by the ultimate Creator to do amazing things. I pray before I open the lid of my Mac, before I click “publish” on a new blog, before I push “send” on a proposal or manuscript or revisions or fourth round of revisions to an editor, before I walk out in front of an audience, before I sync something on social media. I pray that God will use the words He gave me for His glory.
Because none of the words come from me. None of the stories come from me.
Just like Kevin Costner hears a voice in the cornfield telling him to build a baseball field, I believe God calls me to write the craziest things, the things that don’t make sense. But when I do? Something insane happens. It’s no longer about the stories I tell, it’s all about getting closer to Jesus. For a flash, I catch a glimpse His all encompassing love and power. And it is marvelous.
I also believe that God calls each of you to the zaniest most fabulous things. What is He calling you to do today? How weird does it sound? How limitless are the possibilities?
Kevin Costner’s character, Ray, built a baseball field, not because he’d always wanted to, not because it made sense, not to turn a profit, or to give his daughter a place to play, but simply in obedience to a voice. And then?
And Ray questions and wonders if he made the right decision, if he was out of his mind. But one day Ray walks outside and sees baseball legend, Shoeless Joe, standing on his field. The next day several baseball greats are playing on Ray’s field. The movie ends with Ray unexpectedly healing one of his own hurts and a line of cars coming to pay admission to see his field. Ray obeyed the voice even when it seemed counterintuitive to everything he knew. And something awesome happened. That’s how God works.
“March around a wall seven times. That’s how you’ll take this city,” God told Joshua and his army as they faced the impenetrable wall of Jericho. And the walls fell down.
“Oh yeah, fight their army of thousands carrying tons of sharp weapons with only pots and trumpets. You’re sure to win,” God told Gideon and his army of 300. And they won.
The poor will be rich.
The blind will see.
What wackiness is God calling you to?
We’ll all hear His voice in different ways. He calls us all to unique, specific work. And sometimes what God says seems out of the question, like something we would never be able or want to do. Ray’s wife, Annie, in Field of Dreams asks, “Why didn’t the voice send someone else?” And sometimes we ask that same question. Even Moses asked that question. But when God calls you. He calls YOU.
This film came out in 1989. Technology was different. Very. I laughed when Kevin Costner goes to the library and views microfiche, and when his wife answers the telephone with a cord. Plugged into the wall. My husband and I had to explain these things to the children. What if no one had followed God’s call to invent Google to replace microfiche or cell phones to replace wall phones? Steve Wozniak, co-founder of Apple spoke in our college town this past week about all of the things he was curious about, all the problems he wanted to solve, how if something had a glitch he wanted to fix it. What if he hadn’t? What if you don’t answer God’s voice? What will the world miss out on?
What is God calling you to do today? To build? To create? To join? To take on? To write? To learn? To say? To act upon?
What’s stopping you? Are you afraid of what someone will think or how they’ll react? Are you unsure of the numbers? Of the odds? Of yourself?
I know Field of Dreams is a movie, folks, but I was overwhelmed by how much it mirrors God’s call in our lives. Kevin Costner looks cuckoo. He risks his farm, his profit, and his reputation. But he knows it is what he is called to do. And just when everything seems to be falling apart—like he’ll lose his land and go bankrupt, everything falls into place.
Because God’s plans are perfect plans. Yes, His plans seem out there sometimes. Because, well He’s not of this world. Sometimes earthly obstacles feel like roadblocks when we try executing God’s plans. But if we’re obedient, if we listen when He asks us to do something? Then baseball legends from the past walk out of cornfields, strangers read about my quirky days and somehow feel God’s love, battles are won, slaves freed, and the meek inherit the earth.
Some friends of ours remind me of the Von Trapp family. Three of their kids formed a sibling band, The Bundys. They’ve released a CD, their latest EP releases in a couple of weeks, they’ve been on tour with LeAnn Rimes, and they live in Nashville, frequenting various stages—they’ve even played the Bluebird—in hopes of getting their big break.
Over the weekend, they played in Oxford. Our family loves their family’s music, so my kids and I went uptown to listen to The Bundy’s heartbreaking harmonies at an outdoor pavilion on an Indian Summer eve. It was magical.
I don’t know why, but at one point during the show my eyes drifted from the trio. I scanned the crowd and saw their dad (my husband and mine’s friend) sitting in the grass by himself, mesmerized by the performance of his children. It was one of those moments that froze in time. In a way I felt guilty eavesdropping on what was clearly an intimate moment. But I was also so moved by the beauty of it all.
I went up to him after the show, and said, “You must be so proud.”
He smiled and nodded. “You know, out of all the things I do, this is probably the thing that makes me the happiest—seeing my kids up there.” He glanced toward the stage, it’s not about if they get a Grammy or a big label, it’s because they’re so happy when they do this—when they make music. They’re doing the thing God created them to do.”
As a mom, my eyes welled up. Because I get it. All I want for my kids is to find the thing that God made them to do, and then have them do lots of that. But as I drove home I was touched at a deeper level. I envisioned God watching my husband teach, me write, our kids play sports, my mom volunteer, my brother parent his children, or my best friend from high school paint. All of us, in a way working toward some kind of a big break—the next promotion, recognition, reward, breakthrough, or applause. But as we strive for these earthly things, I pictured God the Father, sitting on the grass under the stars, smiling a fully content smile—not concerned at all about what our performance, or reviews, or performance reviews look like. But just taking pleasure in the fact that we are doing the things He created us to do, that we are doing the things that make us fully alive.
That vision of God shifts everything. All the striving. The goals. The checklists (yes, I’m that girl) become irrelevant. Yes, there are things we need to get done, because we live here on planet Earth. There are bills to pay and emails to send and things we need to buy at the store. As we chase the dreams God has put in our hearts, there are hours to put in, late night and early morning studying, practicing, rehearsing, editing, honing and refining. But getting caught up in these things, getting stuck in them, is pointless.
Yes, we need to do our part, and we are called to do it well. But then, the beautiful thing is once we’ve put in our work, we can let go. We can release our work to God and just do our thing—whether that’s singing, playing the cello, composing the notes, or working the lights. We can walk out on stage, get lost in the music, and as we scan the crowd we’re so desperate to impress, catch the eyes of our Father, and see Him nodding, clapping, and saying, “Out of all the things I do, this is my favorite thing—seeing my kids up there, doing what I created them to do.”
Not really the kind of headline that goes viral.
If I changed this to “How to Achieve Your Dream in Seven Days” or even “Seven Weeks,” well those titles would get a lot of hits. Because we’re all looking for easy solutions, step-by-step instructions on how to get things done, on how to make our crazy, hectic lives simpler.
But this blog isn’t about the quick fix or the three easy steps to success—it’s about obedience and more importantly, about God’s personal love.
I have two friends releasing novels this week. I’ve been blessed to sit in the stands and watch their dreams come to fruition. The most beautiful part is how personally God has guided each of their journeys and loved them completely along the way.
We all have dreams, goals, hopes and wishes. The ones God gives us are the ones that tug the hardest, resonate the deepest. These are the dreams to fight for, to work towards. There are no guarantees they will be easy to achieve or occur at all how we expected them, but if God plants a seed in your heart, it will grow. It will bloom in beautiful ways.
In July of 2010 my friend, Tammy, sent me the manuscript of a picture book she’d been working on, Walking Miss Millie. Tammy’s writing was golden. I could picture the illustrations that might accompany the compelling text—ticket stubs, a scruffy dog—the kind of detailed pictures that mesmerize kids and their parents.
But God knew better. The story had so much to say about friendships that transcend all stereotypes—age, race, circumstances—it couldn’t be contained to the pages of a picture book. God urged Tammy to write more—to expand. It meant work and perseverance. Adding characters, dialogue, new scenes, and thousands of words. The work God asked of her, and the work Tammy obediently put in, grew her picture book into a historical fiction middle grade novel—the kind teachers and students will read together and eagerly discuss.
Tammy has several nonfiction titles under her belt, but writing Millie was new terrain. With this foray into fiction, she needed an agent and a publisher. She found them, but the whole agent/publisher thing wasn’t a snap of the fingers—it required reworking, editing, polishing, re-sending, rejection, starting all over again and praying for a writing love connection. Tammy’s obedience to God’s nudges paid off. Because how it turned out, is how God always meant it to be. Walking With Miss Millie releases on the Fourth of July. Saturated in the heat of the South, Tammy’s pitch perfect writing voice captures the characters, their hearts, their struggles, and the beautiful things that connect us all.
Seven years ago my brilliant friend Beth scripted the first several chapters of the novel she'd always dreamed of writing. Her goal was to continue until she finished. But God knew better. Babies, moves, jobs and other life events forced Beth’s book to be shelved. Beth couldn’t get back to it until 2014. Which frustrated her, and made it challenging to get back in the groove. But she listened to God, when He said, "Stop," and again when He said, "Go!"
If you’ve met Beth, you’ll immediately imagine what type of book it is—hilarious, smart, sassy and deeply spiritual. She describes it as “the book she wanted to read in her early twenties, but couldn’t find anywhere.” Beth wrote, Lu, for all the girls like her out there—those no longer eating the spoonfuls of Christianity or philosophy or life lessons from their parents, but actually claiming their faith as their own, and trying to figure out what that meant. As I read through the chapters of Lu’s life, it's evident why Beth had to write the beginning before and the rest now. If she’d started the book in 2014, the beginning would be watered down. Beth needed to experience a rough chapter in her own life to nail the opening. If Beth had tried to bring the book to completion seven years ago, she wouldn’t have been able to pen the climax or ending. God needed to do all kinds of things in Beth's life to breathe life into the pages of her novel. Tonight is her release party. The world can experience the complete story, as God always intended it to be.
That’s how God works—knowing exactly what we need, when we need it, how we need it.
Seven years is a long time. For anything. But in both cases that was exactly how long it needed to be for these books to be the books that they have become--to reach their full potential, to touch hearts and souls in the way they now do. Both journeys are so different, but both my friends achieved their dreams. And they did it through faithfulness to God’s journey for them.
Whatever you’re dreaming about today, know God loves you completely. He is guiding each step in a way that will truly best benefit you and the work He's set out for you. Even when it looks like a detour or construction, be faithful. God's intentions for you will be unique, purposeful and beautiful. And if you want a reminder, check out Walking With Miss Millie and Lu. Not only will they be great additions to your summer read pile, they will be a tangible testimony of how things work out when we trust God and His plans.
No matter what you’re working toward, no matter how long it seems to be taking, don’t worry. God has the next chapter written—it’s a page-turner and it will be amazing.
“Who here is a library nerd?” John Wood asked the crowd at the Center for Social Entrepreneurship at Miami University last week. Not only did I raise my hand, but I was all in. Because I may be the BIGGEST library nerd. I am a lover of books, a collector of stories. I want to read every classic, every new series my kids pick up, every book my friends recommend. I want to read them all and learn and get carried away and discover new friends, places, and perspectives. I am a reader and a writer and a storyteller. Words and books are my very pulse.
But one seventh of humanity can neither read nor write. They don’t have access to books, any books, let alone books in their own languages, books that teach literacy. But founder of Room to Read, John Wood is changing that. The man famous for his book, Leaving Microsoft to Change the World, was on a trekking trip in the Himalayas when he was challenged by a native schoolmaster, “Perhaps sir, you will some day come back with books.” Something inside John was stirred. Deeply. He left his high-paying executive position at Microsoft despite being repeatedly asked by his peers, “Are you crazy?” and has since reached 10 million kids. Ten million! That is world changing.
John believes every child should have the right to be educated, that just because they were born in Nepal or Sri Lanka doesn’t have to mean they lost the lottery when it comes to their future. Every child? Now that’s a bold goal. Bold goals are one of the lessons John says he has learned leads to success.
Are you being bold in your goals today? Because I know I’ve let some of mine slip. I have big dreams and God-inspired ideas. I have talks I’m itching to give, books I crave to publish, blogs I want to write, lives I hope to touch, people I long to remind that they are marvelously created by the ultimate Creator, and therefore they are a-ma-zing! But some of my grandiose dreams get lost in to-do lists, get squelched by rejections, get buried in the ins and outs of daily life. Sometimes I’m checking boxes, getting back on the treadmill, doing what I’ve always done. Sometimes I tell myself I’m doing all I can, but that’s not true. And it’s not enough. It’s not.
I’m not saying God calls us to grind ourselves to the quick. But He does challenge us to get going, get moving, get doing for Him. He has His hands on all of us, for something special. What’s the special thing God is urging you to do? The God who came up with the original designs for volcanoes and invented thunderstorms is not wimpy. He’s not a half-way kind of guy.
He doesn’t want me or you to be either. God strengthens us and empowers us and gives us these dreams, and He expects us to boldly chase them.
The question is, what are you going to do with yours? What has God put on your heart that you’ve been tinkering around with, dipping your toes in the water? It’s time to dive in head first. To be bold. As John Wood says, “Bold goals attract bold people.” And they do. Will people tell you, “no”? Of course. Will obstacles get in your way? Most definitely. Will God part the Red Sea, tumble the walls of Jericho, turn water into wine—make crazy, awesome, amazing, huge things happen that are supposed to happen when you are faithful to His call. Absolutely. So be bold today, and together, we too, can change the world.
What bold dreams are on your heart? What are you going to do with them?
Are you a Prince fan?
In high school there were so many mornings as I was getting ready, when I popped a Prince cassette into my jam box (80’s girl), cranked up the volume, and sang along at the top of my lungs. I’m sure my parents loved that.
Tragically, it was confirmed this week that the cause for Prince’s death on April 21 was a drug overdose. Tragic, because Prince was so talented, so young, and apparently, so very unhappy.
Prince seemingly had it all. All those things we wish for? All those things we dream about—that we think would make life idyllic? He achieved so many of them. Have you ever said…
If only I could play an instrument.
If only someone would notice me.
If only I could sing.
If only I could dance.
If only people found me attractive.
If only money wasn’t a problem.
If only I could get a record deal.
If only I could be in a movie.
If only I could be on the cover of a magazine.
If only I were famous.
If only I could win a Grammy award.
If only I could play the Super Bowl.
If only I had millions of dollars.
Items on our bucket lists Prince achieved. But despite being able to play 27 instruments, winning seven Grammy awards, an Academy Award, selling over 100 million records worldwide, being considered one of the greatest guitarists of all time, living in a palatial multi-million dollar estate, Paisley Park, Prince died alone. He wasn’t happy. He wasn’t content. Because he was missing something.
See, we’re all born with a longing in our hearts—a longing to be loved, accepted, recognized, to use the gifts and talents we’ve been given in a way that will make a difference, get us noticed, earn us applause. This is not a bad thing. This is truly how we were created. God longs for us to seize the day and live life to the absolute fullest. But no matter how much we achieve, there is only one thing that can truly satisfy this longing. This one thing will satiate us completely when nothing else will.
All these worldly things—popularity, fame, money, success—give us a temporary thrill, a temporary high. But the next day we’ll want more. One gig, or sale, or tournament win, or A on our report cards, or client, or heart on Instagram, as we all know, is great, but it’s never enough. Because once we have one, another one looks awfully sweet, and we crave more. Not only will we want more, but our coaches and teammates will be counting on us for another point, our bosses will be looking to us for another deal, and (I speak from experience) our agents will be expecting more book sales.
And although our accomplishments should be celebrated (as we talked about in last week’s blog), none of those things will fulfill us; they aren’t truly what we crave, as Prince could have told us. Author Matthew Kelly says, “You can never have enough of something you don’t need.” But there is one thing that will make us feel full and complete. One person whose applause is constant and counts for everything. Jesus.
Jesus made you and me and Prince and Morris Day. He made us exactly who we are. And when we live a life in relationship with Him, talking to Him, trusting in Him, turning our problems and cares and worries and mistakes and victories and triumphs all over to Him, then not only does Jesus cheer more loudly and clearly than a thousand retweets or a thousand fans, but His acceptance of us for who we are, for who He created us to be is, all we need. Jesus totally satisfies our cravings, fills the empty hole inside that seems to be always longing for something more. Jesus’ love is what we were created to seek. It is His applause we were made to pursue. Because it is completely gratifying. And when we allow Jesus’ love to surround us—we don’t need another anything else, we have everything we need.
I’ve ridden in a limousine once. It was my grandfather-in-laws 90th birthday. The champagne cork was popped at the last three graduation parties of members of my husband’s family. See, there’s something my father-in-law taught me, and that is the importance of celebrating the big stuff.
He was behind the limo and the champagne. He was the one who didn’t just give up smoking, but wrapped up the last pack of cigarettes he ever bought, the unfinished pack that marked his decision to quit, and gave it to his dad for a birthday present. He was the one that when our first baby was born, grabbed my mother in law, hopped a plane from Cincinnati to Atlanta, a train from Hartsfield airport to the hospital and arrived within moments of her birth. My father-in-law, Rick, knew that the high points in life are rare, and deserved to not only be celebrated, but to be celebrated with flair, with a bang!
This is the time of year when the number of celebrations seems a bit overwhelming. There are graduations from everything from preschool to grad school. There seem to be countless parties, and thankfully sheet cake (man I love sheet cake, especially the corner pieces laden with frosting). Tis the season for ballet recitals, guitar recitals, art shows, baseball and softball tournaments, end of school year carnivals, festivals, and class parties. Not to mention, June is the month for weddings.
But don’t let the number of events lessen the importance of any of these events. Diplomas don’t come easily. There are countless pages of homework, flips of flash cards, problems solved, essays written and rewritten, study sessions that go into that piece of paper. Recitals are fun to watch, but they are a fleeting demonstration of the hours of rehearsing that go into the final performance.
My son graduated from 8th grade last night. He has spent the last nine years in his grade school with the same group of kids. During those years he’s gone from reading Jack and Annie to John Green. Moved from playing Old MacDonald on the piano to Ed Sheeran on the guitar. He’s also grown about four feet taller. So, yes, we went out to dinner, took tons of pics, and I made cheesecake, because it’s his favorite.
But there are other things we need to celebrate, too. Learning how to ride a bike, getting a driver’s license, mastering a headstand, finishing a major project—the work that went into it, the obedience to see it to completion, the satisfaction of typing “the end” or pushing send or turning it in or zooming through the neighborhood on wheels. We should take time to celebrate an acceptance of a new job, an award or scholarship, a position on a team, because it signifies an intentional “yes” to move forward to take the next step.
There are so many go to the grocery days, mow the lawn days, crank out the edits days, work an extra shift days, run one more lap days. So on the oh-my-goodness-this-is-so-exciting-days we need to celebrate.
This is the day the Lord has made;
We will rejoice and be glad in it. Psalm 118:24 NKJV
How you celebrate is truly up to you, but do it big, do it grand. Don’t just tell your family about the job offer you’d been waiting for at the breakfast table as everyone is grabbing their granola bars and dispersing for the day. It’s not braggadocios to say, “I’ve been working on this for months and I can finally play the song, got my article published, broke my record, or completed the marathon.” The people who adore you will want to congratulate you. Let them. This is a chance to revel in the ways God is faithful, in the times He helped you push through the walls, kept you keeping on.
Don’t just type an email to your sister who finished her final class for her masters program or to your girlfriend who got engaged. You don’t need to send a town car or pour the bubbly, but you do need to do something special—something that signifies how awesome it is that she was faithful and used the gifts and talents God endowed her with or that God is faithful and brought the person into her life she’s been waiting for.
Think through who achieved what and then put some thought into how to celebrate. You could treat someone to a meal or a cup of coffee. You could make a poster, decorate their front door, write congratulations with washable paint on their car windows. Do they like music? Block out their calendar and take them to a free concert in the park or grab their phone when they’re not looking and download some new tunes onto it that you’re pretty sure they’ll love (pay with your Apple account of course). Do you have a green thumb? Plant flowers in their window box. Do they love to cook? Tie a bow on a fresh pot of live basil for them to snip all summer. Did they finish a really exhausting season where they gave it their all. Make cupcakes with frosting in their team colors. Be you. Be original. Be sensitive to the person you’re celebrating (if they hate crowds, please don’t throw them a giant surprise party). But do revel in life’s milestones and accomplishments.
God created this day. He’s the one who brought you or the person you adore this far. He gave each and every one of us skills and drive and motivation and time and resources and maybe even a few lucky breaks to get us where we are. And God created us to rejoice. So don’t do it half-heartedly. Be all in and go all out for your celebrations. There are plenty of days, but this Day, this one deserves something extra special. Rejoice in it.