Simple As 123

How Simplified Are You?

I’ve compiled a list of ten ways to discern how simplified you are. After listening to a sermon last weekend, reading on the topic and being a strong proponent of simple living, I decided it might be challenging/interesting to come up with ways to gauge just how much I adhere to this kind of living.


Rhetorical questions. Not expecting answers unless you’d like to expound on one or more of the following.











How Simplified are you?

1. How long does it take you to get ready before going out in public?


2. Would praying about whether or not to purchase something seem like an absurd thing to do?


3. Are you able to spend chunks of time alone or in solitude without an overwhelming desire to be around people, in conversation, or around noise and/or distraction?


4. Can you readily find joy in the small things in life like a loved one’s smile, a falling leaf or a special song?


5. Are you entertained by, amused by or in awe of nature?


6. Is it difficult for you to find pleasure in things that are free?


7. How much of a struggle is it for you to give things away?


8. How enticed are you by advertising?


9. Do you get easily annoyed by interruptions in your day?


10. Do you find you’re often misunderstood because you overstate your point, you talk around things, you “pretty up” certain topics or you hide behind flowery language?
    

After evaluating my answers I’m convinced it might do me some good to let God do a little long division on my complicated fractioned life. You know, break it on down. (I think God’s been waiting for someone to set Him up for a dance routine for a very long time!)


*photos by flickr

Map Quest

I’ve been thinking. Uh oh, you know what that means—I’m going to throw some questions at you. You’re exactly right. I’ve been thinking about maps and how as writers our work can represent a certain type of map. I thought we could have a little fun today. Read the following and tell me which one best describes your writing style (if you’re more of a reader than a writer, try to pick the one that describes why you read a book, as appropriate).

The Maps:

X Marks the Spot: You constantly write toward resolve. You have a goal in mind, whether that goal is word count, a certain character growing in a specific way, or for your work to come across startling on every page, that X meets you on every page, reminding you of where you’re headed and what you need to do to get there.

Treasure Chest: You work hard for the money. It’s about being paid. Sure, there’s thrill and mystery along the path, but you’re on the hunt primarily to earn some bucks at the end. Dollar signs are found around every corner and at the start of every new chapter.

Climate Map: Writing is like an experiment in sensory details for you. Discovering a new way to express a feeling or to write about an experience through sight, sound, touch, taste or feel is what it’s all about for you. You go beyond that to describe undefined senses as well, periphery, sixth senses and ways to absorb the world. Description and details reveal the exact temperature of your work. The moisture in the air, the rainfall and the barometric pressure all combine to create a palpable, descriptive work.

Where’s Waldo: There’s only one Waldo, just as there’s only one you. You write to project your voice out into the world, aware some may not find it, some may simply skim over who you are and all you’ve written, but you write anyway. There’s no mistaking your work. Your voice is resilient, clear and wonderfully identifiable. It’s the reason people read your writing. They read it to find you.

Topographic: You pay close attention to how everything flows in your writing. You also lean into conflict at just the right times and pace the work out beautifully. There are peaks and valleys, moments of high and low tension, rocky terrains of conflict, but overall when you take a step back, holding the map from a distance you notice how well designed the landscape of your work is.

The Hundred-Acre Wood: You’re known for creating believable characters with rich personalities. Once someone has read your work they feel as though they personally know those they’ve read about. You also are keenly aware of setting and timing. Just as a “Hoo-hoo-hoo” is distinguishable from an “Oh, bother,” you have a way of making even your Eeyores unique and lovable.

Road Map: Things may get crowded, layers and conversations running every which way in your writing, but there is notably a movement of getting from point A to point B. You are all about driving your work along with an adventure to destination attitude. You can have several stories and subplots going on at once, but ultimately your piece will end up exactly where you intended.

Right about now I bet you’re scratching your head trying to establish which map you are. I’ll provide a nice distraction by telling you which one(s) I am.

Without further ado:

I’m of course a combo. Where’s Waldo meets the Hundred-Acre Wood. That would make a good book actually!

Which map best represents you as a writer (or reader)? Feel free to invent your own map to describe your style.

*photos by flickr

One Question Friday

Every Friday I’m going to ask a question. The questions I choose might be ambiguous on purpose. The goal is to have you answer the question according to your beliefs, where you’re at in life or a circumstance that might have recently impacted you. The only thing I ask is that you provide an explanation for why you answered the way you did.

It is my hope to understand you better through this and also to gain a greater understanding of humanity and how people make decisions.

The question:

Is faith hard or easy?

*photos by flickr
**I’m over at the Exemplify Devotional Channel today

Fresh Start By Doug Fields

Fresh Start by Doug Fields asks the question, do we really believe all things are possible with God? Fields espouses that the key to getting unstuck in life is cooperation with God.

I read this book like a sunbather. I read a chapter and then put it down. You know how sunbathers ease into the water slowly and eventually decide to dive in, immersing their bodies fully? That about sums up how I read this book. My start/stop/start reading did not reflect the witty and intelligent way the book was written. Fields offers practical wisdom about how to power through those inevitable times in life where getting out of bed doesn’t garner much appeal (for whatever reason). I think my jerky reading commitment had much more to do with the meaty chapters. Each chapter hits upon a takeaway lesson and I didn’t want to miss anything.

I’d heard a lot of the insight, carefully categorized in the book, during sermons or in Bible studies before, but reading it all in one comprehensive place added to the book’s value for me. I found myself drawn to the authenticity and humor Fields evoked. Even though some of his points have the potential to be hard to swallow, points encouraging conviction, accountability and a desire to grow, I never felt as though I was being beaten over the head or preached at. Instead, Fields provides comical examples from his own life experience to shed light on what growth and becoming unstuck can look like.

I enjoyed the book. I wish I’d been more concerted in my effort to read it in a shorter time span. However, because I took time to read it, I’ve discovered that certain aspects have truly stayed with me months later. In the last chapter, Fields asks, “If you knew the clock was ticking rapidly for you, what would become most important in your life?” A solid overall question to convey the kind of thinking the book inspires.

Finally, Fields writes that Psalm 90:12, “summarizes the theme of this book.” I’ll leave you with the verse. “Teach us to make the most of our time, so that we may grow in wisdom (NLT).”

Thanks to Thomas Nelson for sending along another solid book.

Salt Mine Writing

Growing up, if Boundaries had showed up on our doorstep, barged through the door, ransacked our fridge, settled on Doritos from the pantry and plopped down on our couch flashing a peace sign I think I’d have said, “Who on earth do you think you are?” (I think it would be pretty funny if Boundaries did that--quite contradictory of his name.)

Boundaries and I had never met.

Today, I see how imperative it is that I invite the Doritos loving friend in my home once in awhile, so I get a good look whether or not I’m well enough acquainted with Boundaries.

~~~

The writing life is like salt mining. We unearth salt every time we slap words on a page. We use our gifts. But in this, we can bury ourselves into deep and dark caverns, potentially cutting ourselves off from those who love us and from needed sunlight. We can tunnel so far into our novels, our essays, and/or our non-fiction inspirational that we lose sight of those waiting for us above ground. Put simply, we risk getting addicted to salt and forgetting our roles in relationships.

Here’s where my old friend comes in. We need to make sure to invite him to work with us. Boundaries needs an open invitation to descend into the damp, wet, musing earth with us. We must be willing to mine salt with Boundaries as a co-miner. We need to remember that writing, though it pulses within our being, makes us lift the covers off our goosepimply legs in the morning, and haunts us as we are driving, showering and sleeping and every other inconvenient time to jot down a note, writing is not life.

Writing is not life.

We don’t live in salt mines, we live above ground where social skills are a necessity and many of us have kids with sticky fingers that need wiping and small little torsos that crave a fat hug. Some of us also have spouses that would like us to get a little more “salty” with them, if you catch my drift.

We are called to mine. Salt mine writing is a calling. We don’t need to dismiss that or skip about the earth avoiding the deep. We can own it. But in owning it, let’s not lose sight of the surface, of those wanting us to ascend back up from the depths from time to time, back up and into their arms.

I have a great deal of respect for how Nathan Bransford addressed a similar topic in a post titled, Ten Commandments of a Happy Writer. A must read.

“You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men. You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp a put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.” Matthew 5:13-16

*photos by flickr
**I got to go in a salt mine as a wee one in Austria
“Oh! Teach us to live well! Teach us to live wisely and well!” Psalm 90:12 (Message)

Chapter Titles & Space

Whew, feels a little roomier around here. I can stretch my thought legs out with a little more ease. (Thought legs are a bit like sea legs, but they don’t shrivel in water.) Do you like what I’ve done with the place? A major redecoration.

~~~Just wanting to know one thing from you today, What are your thoughts on chapter titles?

Do you like them? Could you do without? Do they add anything or do chapter titles simply hog space that wanted to stretch white out on the page?

Thoughts?

*this time I’ll reveal my thoughts because it’s not a One Question Friday. Chapter titles? I quite like them and they’re welcome to take up space in any book I read.
**I have an article published over at Sage Girls Ministry
***My article about being culturally relevant without compromise is published at Exemplify

****photos by flickr

Two In One

I allowed myself to be still. What did I do with the stillness? How did I spend my time in stillness? I spied a bird. A petite, stone-colored bird perched on the branch of leafless shrubbery outside my living room window. I’d been reading a book yesterday when the bird encounter occurred.

And as if looking through two unique lenses at the same time, here is what I saw:

One bird

One bird poised, its body stationary, with wiry claws wrapped around the twiggy branch. This bird snapped its head every which direction, one second to the next. It appeared to be in registration mode. A leaf fluttered. Registered. A gaggle of geese honked above its head. Registered. The whiff of a meal beneath the earth’s wet surface. Registered. It took it in. Took it in. Took it all in. Its head swiveled with interest and reticent, instant understanding of the impressions 360 degrees around the shrubbery. This bird registered, while flitting from attention to attention. Registered and perhaps one might argue, absorbed. Digested life.

One bird

Too much to take in. Not enough time to ingest it all in one fell swoop. Eyes on that falling leaf. Hearing tuned to a calling bird from a tree far in the distance. This bird’s head jerked readily. Beady bird eyes glanced up, and then down, then left, and then right. Pattern repeated, opposite directions. A nervous bird. A bird with an abundance of commotion to decide between. No stillness. No rest. Ill at ease. Unsettled. Cautious to the point of fear. Distracted by life.

I saw the first and second bird in one bird. Two in one. The same bird.

~~~Of course this post isn’t just for the birds. Able to retain multiple events at once. Check. Able to multi-task and absorb multiple happenings simultaneously. Check. Able to digest life. Check. Able to be distracted by life. Check.

Our gifts can also be the place where we are vulnerable to weakness.

I am both birds. I am two in one.

*photos by flickr

**I'll be over at Live Beautiful later today