The House

Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain.

Psalm 127:1a

I keep telling myself this so I can go to sleep. I'd like to hammer it into my head with a thousand nails to make it stick.

Have you ever done something that you knew was good work - an essay, a piece of art, a project? Something you stepped back from and said, not with arrogance, but with satisfaction, "I've done this well. I worked hard, and it paid off. This is something worth reading/viewing/studying?"

I'm in the final stage of my novel, and I think I've done something well.

It has been a (literally) life-long dream to write a novel and see it published. In the dream, readers from all over discover an author whose work they become inextricably sucked into, that sparks life and energy in their mind, and that opens up a grand vista to a world they never began to dream of.

The books I most loved did that for me.

I should stick to the point, though - I think I've done something well, something that has real potential to be published by a respected publishing house.

This thought moves me profoundly. I began my first full-blown "novel" in the sixth grade. I unwittingly fell in love with writing when I was six. Now, I'm twenty-three, and I'm almost ready to find an agent and send my first real, adult novel out into the frightening publishing netherworld. I'm so close to seeing an actual "dream come true," I can taste it.

Of all the writing I've done in my life, this is my best. I opened up this post with the verse I did because I have to remind myself that my best is all I can do, and the rest is in God's hands. Just because I wrote something well does not mean that it will get published. My writing will be judged based on my skill, yes, but much of the judging also depends on the whims of publishers.

When I imagine my dream coming to fruition, it nearly brings me to tears. Call it cheesy, but fill in the blanks with your own dreams. Powerful, right? Now, the real challenge is trusting God's sovereignty in the midst of something so very personal.

As I come to the end of my second draft (and the final "writing" draft, if you will) and start thinking about cover letters and summaries and sample pages and agents, you can pray for me that I will trust the Lord, and love and enjoy him ever more than the gift of writing that he's given me. For I build nothing in life - not even this - without him. I have to remember that, and rest.


85% done and counting...!

FAME

Have you ever done or made something that gets you noticed by a handful of people you don't know? It's a heady feeling, perhaps especially if you're a people-pleaser like me. Well, after I made the video in my last post, I tweeted about it to two fairly large Wheel of Time groups, who subsequently re-tweeted the video to their many followers. This brought an influx of views to the video, though not perhaps as many as I [somehow] garnered for the last nerdy WoT video I made.

Silly as it may sound, it was a great feeling. As a person given to strong emotion, I was exhilarated. I was pleased with myself and anxious to see what kind of positive feedback I could garner.

But I've found that attention is much like a shot of espresso - after the high comes a slump that leaves me a mite debilitated.

Why would I feel debilitated? Because I want that same attention - all. the. time. In my heart is a secret, persistent desire for fame. That's one of the many reasons why it's easy for me to become discouraged about my writing - my subconscious is groaning for recognition, and being somewhere in the middle is not good enough. I want to shine, I want to be the star, I want to be at the top.

Moments of fleeting (and really very minor) attention like my video gained for me, and moments of dark hopelessness about a talent (writing) that's completely from God and pointless to fret about, reveal just how much I still live for my own glory. I look forward to the day when I can say, with all my heart, that I strive to excel for the sake of glorifying God alone. Of course, it's not like that day is a finish line that I'll cross once and never have to think about again. Such a dedication to glorifying God requires clinging to faith and fighting the flesh and Satan day in and day out. I pray that the Lord increase my eternal perspective to the point where I know, in the deepest part of me, that life lived for my own fame is death and emptiness wrapped in shiny paper, but that life lived for the fame of the Lord is a full one indeed.

Another Plant to Hack

Discouragement is a fast-working poison. For one, it doesn’t take much to get discouraged, especially if you’re unsure of your ambition in the first place. All it takes is a small situation—a day that didn’t turn out quite as planned—and the process begins. The foiled plans may instill a sense of failure or futility in your mind, a seed that can be pushed aside before your mental processes pour any more water onto it. It doesn’t stop there, though. For instance, later in the day, you get another one of your short stories in the mail, rejected. It was a story you particularly poured your heart as well as hours of time into and daydreamed about seeing accepted and published. Now, you just feel like a little girl aspiring to become a princess—as time goes on, you realize that things just aren’t that simple or peachy or viable. That second letdown draws out the same seed you started with, except you don’t have to think about re-planting it—you know where it goes. You use your conscious brainpower to water the seed, instead. There. It grows.

It becomes a vine that hurts and chokes. You try to tear it from your neck as it tightens its hold. Finally, in one fell swoop, you take up an axe and slice the thing in half. It uncurls from your neck and you gasp for breath.

It must be uprooted, no trace left. What if it grows there again? I don’t have to let it, you realize. Taking a new plant--sometimes hope, sometimes encouragement, sometimes humor--you place it in the hole where the discouragement broke ground. It’s ground that is good for growing in general, so you always run the risk that the vine will return and re-grow, but until then, you keep planting the good stuff and tending it assiduously. 

Mom's Advice Finally Makes Sense

During those lovely middle and high school days, when I was frustrated about boys and homework and would whine to Mom about them, she always answered, "Jaimie, just take it one day at a time."

The advice used to drive me crazy for its sheer frequency! It took me awhile to discover that it's Biblical, and, not surprisingly, eminently wise. Matthew 6:30-34 reminds us

"But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not be anxious, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you."

"Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble."

Right now, it's all I can do to put one foot in front of the other, so I guess that's what I should keep on doing. One thing I've found is that having short-term goals, like "Today, I'm going to bake something from scratch," or "Today, I'm going to have a good conversation with my husband over dinner, or "Today, I'm going to run a warm-up mile," helps keep me focused on just living.

I admit that I wonder if I'm not simply trying to distract myself with these goals.

Despite my doubts, I know that in the end, that's not the case. I love life's details, because I love life. God has blessed me in countless, beautiful ways, and they are worth celebrating somehow.

I have to hone in on the specifics that I love right now, since life's "big picture" has nearly drowned me every time it's swept over me. Yet, God is faithful...

Next goal: Smile, and don't hold back comments in class!