Saturday, June 25, 2011

The Good Stuff

Our book club is gearing up for a second attempt at meeting to discuss One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are by Ann Voskamp.  The first attempt was me, a turkey dinner, and two good friends.

 I feel so compelled to share this book with as many people as possible, as it gives the gift of of perspective in a way no other book has.   I believe a plague on many at-home moms is the belief that we are missing out, biding our time until we can move on with our lives. But it's a lie.

I spent the week in the woods with my children camping. I was not raised a camper, more a Holiday Inner, so this is sort of a big deal. And I was alone with them for most of the time, so I'm pretty much a rock star. I'll sign autographs later.

We ate our breakfast eggs under the watchful gaze of towering pines, played telephone by a crackling fire, ate way too many marshmallows, and sang at the top of our lungs while washing dinner dishes.  Our last night was one of "true confessions" at the campfire, hosted by the fiesty girl with the sweet smile.  She says "we'll laugh about this later."
And these are all gifts, memories to stow away and laugh about one day. Seeing everything as "gift" straight from God removes that constant feeling of hurrying through what I'm living today to get on to the really meaningful stuff.  Today, right now, this is the moment to be savored as gift.  No hurrying for tomorrow, for success, for contentment. Contentment is now, right in front of me. It is gift in my open hand. 
Simon enjoys some sweet downhill speed in between Smores.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Serendipity

The drizzle of rain outside my window sparks memories in my ears.  I started a writing project back in December that got temporarily sidetracked by a furry adoption and subsequent training and readjusting. It would be dishonest if I didn't admit that opening the box of my past (literally a box of my old journals) didn't give me a reason to stop and digest.  I'm back in the game, however, and reveling in what I can only attribute to the God who loves me.

My pastor just gave a sermon on how "everything happens for a reason," is one of those stupid things that well meaning people believe. I heard his case, and I totally get it, but on a day like today I still believe it.    I'm really talking about all of the little particles of  life that that appear around me and start to form a picture.  I see a pattern and a purpose in choices that seemed random at the time.

 I decided to bring my writing project along with me on vacation, since I would be spending time alone with my husband and alone with myself for the first time in years.  I figured I would at least have time to get the juices flowing.  I also wanted to throw a book on my Kindle for my reading pleasure, so I downloaded A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by my favorite best guy friend I've never met, but who makes me belly laugh whenever I read his work. When we got on the plane to Seattle, Mel announces that we're going to try and visit a friend of his before we drive over to Canada. Totally last minute, but I would expect nothing else from my husband.  I decide to go with it, see it as a divine appointment.

Serendipity occurs when within the first 5 minutes at this friend's house, I learn from his wife that she's a self-employed editor, sort of an idea coach. She has a great book about memoir writing that she recommends, and she generally encourages me to continue with my project.  I tell Mel on our long drive to Canada, that if I ever finish this book, I'm totally hiring her to help me shape it.

Double Serendipity for me when I'm lounging at the pool yesterday, and Donald Miller is talking to me about Story in the book I randomly chose for my trip. In A Million Miles he's telling the story of helping write the screenplay adaptation for his book, Blue Like Jazz. It's like the conversation I had with Encouraging Editor is continuing in the book by Miller, like we were all there at the dinner table together and he's just building on what we touched on earlier. 

So to all of you skeptics who say you don't understand what I'm talking about when I say "God is talking", this is how I hear his voice:  through people, smells, words, pictures. I hear him encouraging me to continue the project, and hear him explaining the Story we're all living. 

"Glory to God in the highest, for all these events led me to you. Your gentle hands protected me as I wandered in the woods.  I snagged my clothes on thorns, but no wild beast devoured me."