Rescue

Some very dear friends of mine have been in the process of adopting a sweet little boy who has been in an orphanage in Haiti since he was a baby. They met this little guy as they were in the process of adopting a sibling group from the same orphanage. As news of the earthquake came we rejoiced with them when they heard that all of the children in that orphanage were safe. In the days that followed, information started coming that it was very likely that adoptions that had been in progress would be expedited in order to get those children "home" in order to start making room for all the thousands of new orphans.

One night last week we heard that some of these children might be flown into Florida on military transport planes to Florida where the parents would then meet up with the children and paper work would be done in the airports. One mother was overwhelmed at that thought of her little guy having to experience his first air travel with possibly dozens of other children and only few adults to help comfort them. Then to spend the time in the airport while customs and immigration had to do what they had to do again in the company of other frightened children and few adults to offer consolation in the midst of such traumatic times. Who knew how many hours the child would have to wait. The drama and uncertainty of such an event was almost more than she could stand. 

A wise woman offered a different perspective. First of all, the children who had been living in a Hatian orphanage had already in their short lives undergone far more trauma that most of us have to endure in a lifetime. And she viewed it as a the humanitarian rescue mission that it was. As this story was being recounted to me, I asked "And the child knows he's going to his Papa, right?" 

And my eyes filled with tears.

Not just for Sami and his rescue to a safe and loving home. But for all of us. We have times in our lives that are truly filled with trauma and drama. The difficulties are real. The sacrifices extreme. And yet, we can find our comfort knowing that our Papa - our Abba Father - has our best interest in mind. He has come to rescue us, and we are on the journey home. To an everlasting safe and loving home.

Subtitle

...what I learned while editing my life...

That is the subtitle of Donald Miller's book A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. Do we ever do that? Edit our lives? That would require slowing down...stopping even. It's hard to edit something that is moving full speed ahead. And well, editing itself takes time. Have you ever seen how many standard proofreading marks there are? Then there are the copy editing marks. Whew. Sounds like work.

That's what Don has the rare opportunity to do. That is the unexpected catalyst for his book A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. A couple of guys tell Don that they would like to make a movie based on Blue Like Jazz. Cool, says Donald Miller. A movie about the successful book that was both authored and inspired by DM himself. Having a bit of writers block and being a tad short on cash flow - why not? Discussions begin to open up about story. Do audiences want to watch (ie - as in go to a movie) the same kinds of stories that they enjoy reading about? Does this or that kind of story draw in the audience? Does saying the story isn't so great, mean that the man himself isn't so great? Ego inflated moving quickly to ego deflated.

I'm pretty sure that my self-esteem isn't up to having someone else edit my story. "Honey, let's leave this out, no one really wants  to read about that." Some self-editing? Perhaps. Yep, I can think of few things, I'd like to end up on the cutting room floor. Surely I'm not the only one who'd like a "Take 2!" (or 10 or 20) for some moments of life. (I realize I am mixing the book and movie metaphors, but they aren't untangling in my mind, so I'm just moving forward.)

And as I type this tonight, I'm slowing down a bit. Stopping, if only for a moment, to take a look and see what in my story is worth looking at. Value in a story doesn't automatically equal a Disney-Princess-sort-of-story. Movie makers know that to bring the audience in the story has to be complex - they know we prefer a story that we can't figure out right away. Good story ≠ easy story. That short formula gives me some more hope. As of recent, my story hasn't been easy. So my story might not be as boring as a first glance might have seemed.

Kudos

Two-thumbs up! Way to go! Excellent! Well done! Terrific! Doesn't get any better than this! 

Can we ever hear enough praise? I remember hearing a statistic that it takes at least 10 episodes of high-praise to over come a single harsh criticism. And for some of us folks who've dealt with times of low self-esteem, it is more likely to take 10 to the 10th sincere accolades to help us recover from one rough critique.

In the movie I mentioned at the start of this blogquest (Alex & Emma), Emma reads the last page of a book to decide if she is willing to invest her time in reading the entire book. While I disagree with her strategy, I do get her point. I, on the other hand, skip to the beginning. Introductions, prologues, acknowledgments, copyright notices, blah, blah, blah. Those weren't really written first, so why should I read them first? (It's a rhetorical question - no need to try to persuade me. Alex couldn't persuade Emma and he was a "brilliant novelist".) I just want to start the book. Start with what the author really chose to start with. The story.

BUT. In returning to Donald Miller's "A Million Miles in a Thousand Years" I read the kudos. In my copy there are three and half pages of  words of praise. Words from some pretty impressive people. My favorite is by Rob Bell (author of Velvet Elvis and Jesus Wants to Save Christians). He says:

If someone tells you they've read this book and they "enjoyed it" or they "liked it" or they think it's a "good book" then maybe they didn't read it - it's well written and funny and interesting and all that, but it's also disturbing. Really, really disturbing. Don is into provocative territory here, wrestling with The Story and the role each our stories play in it...this is very convicting, powerful, unsettling writing. I felt like this book read me more than I read it.

Whew! In the couple of months that passed since I read this book the first time, I don't think I forgot the point. Or missed it entirely. In fact, other notes of praise for this book and Donald Miller use some of the phrases I used ...and they couldn't have been hiding in the recesses of my memory since I skip to the beginning!

Of course, it's possible to come up with 3.5 pages of praise that are inarticulate, inaccurate or just a bunch of bunk. Don did some hard work in this book. It's more like a journal than a novel or self-help book. It feels real. It makes me want to do what he did. Step up. Take chances. Make changes. Be different. Improve my story.

Hear me clearly please, I'm not saying I hate my story as it is. It's me. It's who I am. It's the journey I've been on. However, I don't think I've ever given enough credit to the power God has given me to be a formative force in my own story. Yes, yes, I make choices every day. Those choices can impact myself, my family and others in my circle. But some of what Don is saying in his book is that we are designed to transform. The ways we do that and the routes we take are going to make us "be different at the end" (see chapter 12). We weren't created to arrive at adulthood and then tread water until we die. We are in a constant state of flux. This is why this book presents such a challenge to me personally. I've never been a big fan of changing. (See entry from last January) But do I really just want the status quo? To never change? How boring is that!? Ah-ha. A conflict. The girl who doesn't like change, doesn't want to stay the same. Ay, there's the rub.

Story

Well, I did it. Yesterday, I said I'd go take a second look at a book I read recently. The book is A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald Miller. Donald Miller is the author of the well-known book "Blue Like Jazz" (which I have NOT read yet, by the way).

The book came across my desk at work - lots of books come across my desk at work. One weekend when the kids were away and my folks were away, I took it home with me to see if I wanted to read it. I did. And I did.

It was an easy read inasmuch as I didn't have to go look up words in the dictionary to know what it was talking about. I didn't have to have a master's degree in theology or psychology or any other -ology to follow along. I've never heard Donald Miller's voice, but as I was reading I felt like I was sitting in a coffee shop with or across the living room from a guy who was telling me about some stuff he was really interested in. In addition, it was easy to read because it was entertaining. There is funny stuff. And great adventures. Interesting characters. Unusual settings. (There was also a draw in that I already knew a tiny bit of the information from a direct source - I'll have to check with my attorney before I'll know if I can write about that or not.)

However, in my opinion that's where easy stopped. At one point I even told someone that I was almost "afraid" to read any further because I didn't want to have to get to the challenge I was sure was coming. I didn't want to have to read it, agree with it, and then fail miserably by not meeting it. Donald Miller was gentle though. (Thanks, Don - surely your friends call you "Don") While he proposed the challenges, they were posed directly to himself, not as a call to action for anyone and everyone who should happen to read his book. I'm thinking that he'd like others to move in the directions he chose to move, but it wasn't presented that way to the reader.

I'm getting ahead of myself though. I was so glad that I read the book. I tried to find some others who had read it so that I could talk about it with them. At that point, I didn't know anyone personally who had read it. Since I wanted to share my thoughts with people who already knew me, the online option didn't meet my needs. So, I sort of put it down. On the second shelf of my bedside table. Not completely out of sight. Then for Christmas I gave it to some of those folks I'd wanted to talk about it with a few months earlier. And I've heard they are reading it. I look forward to the discussions we might have regarding its content.

And...I feel a little "afraid" again. I told them it was a great book. I've mentioned that it presents challenges I'm drawn to. But what if they think it's a call to action that I'm not ready to act on? Crap. Well, now I've done it. Set myself up to fail miserably and in front of others to boot. Or perhaps I was subconsciously looking for some accountability? Or "authentic community" in the story of my life?

We'll see. I've dusted off the cover and remembered why I wanted to share it with others. If we don't come to the same conclusions, that's ok. And hey, if nothing else, I have two blog posts in a row. Something I haven't done since I was writing about the story of a different chapter of my life. A chapter that tonight, at least, feels a bit like a million miles and a thousand years ago.

Writing

I watched a movie tonight about a writer. It was a comedy - a romantic comedy at that - and it had some great insights into the writing process. He explained to a reluctant audience of one that he didn't know how the story was going to end because the characters take him to the places they will go. That makes perfect sense to me. (Alex & Emma)

I read a book not long ago about "story". Not a particular story necessarily, but story in general. The story of an individual. The story of a people. The story of a God. The challenge in that book, and I want to read it again...perhaps I'll pick it up again after clicking "publish post" :)...anyway the challenge to me was that good stories have certain criterion. Whether it be a book or a movie or a play or whatever. A good story will have specific elements that a not-so-good story doesn't have. Upon doing some extensive study on story, the author decides that if he applies these elements, these criterion to his own story, the unfolding story of his life, that he could actually improve his story. And what do you know - it did! This is not the same thing as "choosing your destiny" kind of thing. Or deciding what you want in life and "making" it happen. But rather choosing risk, for example, instead of safety. The author chose to try to "get the girl." The relationship didn't turn into a happily ever after, but he became a better person because of it. He learned more about himself. He had a good dating relationship that lasted longer than his standard average. He improved his story.

So as I sit here in the glow of the computer monitor on a day people eat black-eyed peas for luck and decide to lose weight or quit smoking or other lofty goals which will be left by the way-side in a matter of weeks or even days, I think I will resolve to improve my story.

And maybe even write about it.

Happy New Year.