When Endings lead to Beginnings

I just crossed a first off of life’s list this morning: I filed my initial claim for unemployment. Being jobless is a box I would rather not have checked, but at the same time I am confident this is a moment in time that is going to afford me new opportunities and it reminds me I have a lot to be thankful for.

First, I got to work closely with my family for ten out of the sixteen years we published. I got to watch my dad’s dream grow into a magazine that was enjoyed by a lot of people from various walks of life. I had a job in my chosen career field while I was in college. And I have been able to continue growing my skills in the years since.

As hard as it is to see something you’ve put so much effort into building fade into a memory, and as much as it stinks that we had to make this decision during a season that’s supposed to be merry and bright, it seems fitting that closing the doors at Model Railroad News comes at the end of the year.  A lot of people think 2012 will be the year the world ends. Personally, I’m looking at it as a year of beginnings.

It’s a universal truth: In order for new beginnings to take place, there has to be endings. A seed has to die for a flower to grow. The flower blooms and withers to create a new seed. A caterpillar has to enter the chrysalis and shed its former self in order to emerge a butterfly. I sometimes wonder: If the seed and the caterpillar could think and feel the way humans do, would there be fear or doubt as they enter their metamorphosis?

In nature, change is just a part of the life cycle. For humans, its something we tend to shun.  We may not necessarily like where we are in life, but it’s what we know  — and there is comfort in familiarity. But if our routine never changes we face stagnation. I’ve come to the conclusion that just as stagnation results in death in nature, it’s deadly for the human soul as well.

Like so many others without a steady job right now, I have absolutely no idea what’s next. Maybe I’m insane. Maybe I’m still in shock. But I’m excited. There is an entire realm of possibility available to me now. There are new challenges to face. New lessons to learn. And new adventures to be had.

In The Hobbit, Bilbo Baggins tells Gandalf that adventures are horribly uncomfortable things and he was happy to stay in his hobbit home for the rest of his life. Gandalf in his wisdom recognizes these to be the words of someone who isn’t as content about his life as he claims, but rather who is too afraid to step out his front door. Of all the companions who journeyed to the Lonely Mountain, Bilbo was the most bold and vigilant. While the others got discouraged and lost their way, he came to life. The only thing he’d needed was a good nudge in the right direction to get him moving.

I see myself the same way. I’ve always dreamed of visiting the unknown but have hesitated to step over the threshold, and I have often used my job and my family as my excuse. Like Bilbo, I now find myself running out the door without any clue of where I’m going. I may meet some trolls, goblins, elves, and dragons along the way, but they’ll give me some interesting stories to tell. And I can’t wait to share them. You never know who those tales will inspire!

Note to self: It’s pretty cold out there right now. Remember your hat!

 

The Honest Writer

“Hey, Jen! How are you doing?”

Would it be okay to say I’m overwhelmed, exhausted, lonely, and ready to cry?

“Pretty good. Just taking it a day at a time. You?”

It’s easy to fudge the truth when you know the person asking the question is doing so more out of courtesy than curiosity; in their mind they’ve already moved on to the next item on their to-do list. As writers, however, we don’t have that luxury. Our readers are investing one of their most precious commodities in us — time. When they read our words a kinship is formed that is like a real relationship, and when we take advantage of that we don’t just disappoint them, we break their trust in us. It’s no wonder there’s so much outrage when it’s revealed that a best-selling author has fabricated his memoir or lifted a large section of her book from another writer and claimed it as her own.

When I started this blog, the goal was to create a place to encourage other writers, and I’ve found it’s quite easy to put a big smile on a bad day and act as if all is well in my little world. Though there is nothing wrong with looking for the silver lining (in fact, I encourage it!), if I’m not honest with myself how can I be honest in my writing? Now I’m not advocating posting dark, depressing odes in a blog or moaning in status updates, some things are better left unsaid in public, but there is an ancient saying that has been one of my mottos since college: Homo sum. Humani ni a me allenum puto!

I am human. Nothing human can be alien to me. It was written by a slave centuries ago, but it’s as true today as it was then. We’re human. We experience the same emotions, we live through similar experiences.  Writers have good days and bad days the same as everyone else on this swirling dust mote. If I’m fake in my writing, it’s eventually going to catch up to me, and my readers being as smart as they are will call me (or in the case of my fiction, my character’s) bluff.

So, yes, lately it seems I have a little more on my plate than I can handle at times and there are moments I feel like I’m going to buckle under the pressure, but it’s teaching me to see things a bit differently. As I was driving home from work last night I started thinking about what is truly important to me; what it is I want to spend my time doing, and when it’s more than okay to say that dreaded little word “NO.”

I love writing. It’s something I want to spend the rest of my life doing in some form or another. I enjoy updating this blog as often as possible. I hope to have my book published someday soon, and after that, another. I love working in Youth Ministries. It’s something that fuels, challenges, and stretches me as an individual. But I don’t need to be a part of another committee or take on that extra editing project. The truth is, the more I weigh myself down with the “extra” stuff, the less time I have to enjoy the things that make me smile.

A wise friend recently told me that, while I’m doing better at it then days past, I need to stop trying to please everyone and start enjoying the life I want for myself. And that, friends, is exactly what I plan to do.

How about you? Do you ever feel like you take on too much and then feel guilty for putting your writing on the back burner (or worse, for making it your top priority)? What have you done, or are in the process of doing, to change that? I’d love to hear your thoughts. –Jen

Walking on Water

“Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.” Matt 14:28

Growing up in Sunday School, I became very familiar with stories about David fighting Goliath, Jonah and the Great Fish, Daniel in the lion’s den, and Jesus feeding the multitude with two loaves and a fish. I loved imagining what it would be like if I’d been one of those people; if I’d seen what they’d seen, or done what they’d done.

I particularly liked to hear about Jesus walking out on the stormy sea towards a boat tossed about in the angry squall. What would it be like to walk on water, I wondered. Would I have stepped out like Peter? I was convinced that if I had, I would never have sunk though.

I happened across this passage again a couple weeks ago, and as I read it I could picture Peter standing with his hands on the rail, prepared to step over the side regardless of Jesus’ reply. He was ready to do the impossible.

It’s funny, when the story is told more emphasis is placed on Peter becoming distracted by the waves, sinking, and calling out for help. We focus on the fact that Jesus reached out immediately and pulled him up, indicating that God is always there to rescue his children, but we fail to realize that it doesn’t say Jesus ran to him and saved him. Peter was already near enough to be grabbed, which indicates he had walked quite a ways from the boat by that point.

History remembers the the names of those who step out of the boat. We know there were other disciples on board that night, but we don’t know how many, or specifically, which ones. Peter is the only one mentioned by name.

The same is true of war memorials. We remember those who risked all, not those who ran from the battlefield or stayed home. Marie Currie is remembered for exploring an anomaly on a piece of film placed on a rock, and for her subsequent work with radiation. The list goes on.

Dreams are just that…dreams…vapors in the night. That is, until we take the steps to turn them into reality. It requires courage, determination — and a bit of insanity. Notice that even after Peter got out of the boat and stood solidly on the sea, not a single person present attempted join him.

I have a song from Kutless I like to listen to when I’m struggling with decisions to stay still or move forward. It has a line that says, “It doesn’t matter what you’ve heard, impossible is not a word. It’s just a reason for someone not to try.”

When Jesus pulled Peter up and asked him “Why did you doubt?” it’s important to remember, he wasn’t chastising him for believing that if he got out of the boat he could walk forward through the massive waves, he was telling him not to become distracted by what was going on around him and to focus instead on his final destination.

I want to encourage you to do the same with your writing. Don’t be one of the nameless men on the boat. If you have been blessed with being given story to tell, step forward boldly. Don’t let anyone else distract you with tales of the impossibility of being published. Don’t become discouraged when your manuscript comes back with more red than black. Learn. Grow. And always remember: Even though writing is largely a solitary endeavor, you’re never alone. There will always be someone nearby to reach out a hand and pull you back up if you do begin to sink.

The Writer’s Dream

Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and your plans will succeed. Prov. 16:2

I can’t speak for everyone, but sometimes I think we tend to view God like one the gods of Olympus — as a self-important man sitting on his throne watching, waiting for us to slip up so he can laugh at our folly and drive us further into the mud. We question our every action, wrestle with each decision, terrified we’re going to choose poorly.

Shouldn’t it be the opposite? Ours is a God of creation. Not destruction. Though He offers us guidelines in how we should live, when it comes to certain decisions, such as which opportunities we should pursue, he simply leaves it up to us.

I have to be honest. I tend to overly obsess about whether a project I’m about to embark on is God’s will or mine. Will I use the right words? Will my point get across? Will anyone even like it? I get so worried about making a mistake I become too terrified to step out. I use that fear as a crutch, as an excuse to stay in one place. Better to stand still and be miserable than try, fail, and disappoint others or — more specifically — myself. Somehow I doubt that’s what God has in mind for me. In fact, I believe I’ve been looking at things all wrong for far too long now.

If I’m truly passionate about something could it be because it’s already been “approved”? Could it be that I have these dreams because God placed them in my heart the day He spoke me into existence? A friend of mine recently shared that our dreams aren’t just ours — they’re God’s. They aren’t meant solely for our pleasure, but for the blessing of others as well. Taking that to its logical conclusion, if I refuse to pursue a dream because of fear I could very well be depriving someone else of a blessing.

So when Solomon says to commit to the Lord whatever I do, he’s not saying I need to approach God like a broken beggar asking for permission to move forward; he’s saying I need to give back to the Lord what is already his. To take the focus off of me and my expectations. To trust that what God has promised to do through me will be done. And then go to work. The dream won’t be realized overnight. It may take years of hard work, patience, and perseverance, but if there’s one thing that I can be sure of it’s this: God’s plans never fail and I am in good hands.

Unexplored Territory

“When you see the ark of the covenant of the Lord your God, and the priests, who are Levites, carrying it, you are to move out from your positions and follow it. Then you will know which way to go, since you have never been this way before.” Joshua 3:3-4

There are times I wish God still spoke to us in an audible voice, met us with specific directions, or just gave us something tangible like the Ark to follow into new territory. It’s so much more difficult stepping out in faith, hoping you’re making the right decisions. Worse, is sitting still in fear and indecision.

Writing is a passion. It’s an integral part of who I am. If I’m not writing a story or working on an article, I’m thinking of one. I get distracted by ideas while walking, have heated discussions with people who don’t exist, and I’ve wandered into fairyland on more than one occasion while I was supposed to be listening to someone speaking to me.

Writing is a gift God blessed me with, and it’s one I want to use to the best of my ability. But then come the doubts. A project I’ve poured my heart into gathers dust on a shelf. Another rejection letter appears in my mailbox. A chapter disappears from my file and none of my numerous backups have the most recent version. When coupled with the stress of every day life — health of family and friends, finances, uncertainty in a rocky economy — it’s enough to make anyone question, “Am I going in the right direction?”

This morning I was reminded of another man who pressed himself to do the work he’d been called to, but who in a moment of frustration fled to the desert ready to give everything up. I’ve always admired Elijah, not because of the miracles God did through him, but because of his faithfulness in situations that would cause most people to crack under the pressure. With the exception of this one recorded case, he was constantly moving forward doing the work God set out for him to do.

When Elijah fled Jezebel after a great victory for the Lord, God led him to the mountaintop (1 King 19). Elijah was exhausted; he felt isolated, and despite all God had done for him and through him, useless. And so he waited on that mountaintop for God to pass by and speak to him. First came the great wind, then the earthquake, followed by a fire. Yet God was in none of those. Instead, He came in the form of a gentle whisper.

I realized that while I’ve been looking for God to send me major road signs and events to direct me, he’s been using simple markers instead through encouraging words from friends, unexpected writing opportunities, and in the blessings that come when I ’m able to help others in their own journeys, whether with writing or in life.

I may not have sold a best seller yet. I may never see more than a few extra dollars here or there for my work. But that’s really not why I write to begin with. It isn’t success or achievements God is looking for — it’s simple faithfulness. Am I willing to trust Him enough to lead me safely through unknown territory, Ark or no Ark? And can I set my own demands and expectations aside long enough to hear Him when he gently whispers directions to my heart?