Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns
If you think Jesus would have come into your home that day and not issued a strong rebuke to the head of household, you are mistaken. These words of condemnation have been haunting me for days now. They aren’t all that different than the soundtrack I play in my head on an almost-daily basis. It’s…
I am nesting. On Saturday I emptied the refrigerator. Last summer’s homemade pickles in their jars. The bread ends that seem to multiply on every shelf. The eggs. The milk. The fruit and veggies. All of it sat on the floor or the counter as I carefully removed the shelves and wiped them down with…
I’ve heard that life is like a highway. And it definitely seems like that sometimes. The pace of life swirls around me at dizzying speeds. We’re all so busy. In such a hurry. Always somewhere to be, something else to do. I’m a get-to-the-point, get-there-quick kind of girl. I don’t like to waste time on…
Waking up at 5 a.m. is crazy, right?
Waking up at 5 a.m. every day for a month, even crazier.
I mean, it’s not like I had a baby to feed. My kids wake up early, but even 5 a.m. is early for them.
So, what would have compelled me to lose sleep, drink more coffee and wake up before the sun?
One word: NaNoWriMo.
Okay, so that’s not really a word. But it is the reason. I first heard about National Novel Writing Month last year while it was going on, and I was unprepared to participate. It’s been on my radar ever since, so when November approached this year, I created a plan to complete the goal of NaNoWriMo: write a 50,000-word novel from November 1-30.
The plan included waking up at 5 a.m. daily to write as much as I could before the first child woke up for the day.
Some days, I succeeded. Success to me was 1,000 words or more per day. Other days, I failed miserably. And by that I mean I didn’t even get out of bed.
But as of today, November 30, the final day of NaNoWriMo, I’m proud to say that I have written 35,000 words this month. Added to a previous 7200 or so that I’d written before the month started, and I now have over 42,000 words of a novel written.
What?!?
I knew going into this that I probably wasn’t going to make the 50,000 mark. My kids woke up earlier than usual. The words wouldn’t come. I had other writing projects to finish. My husband needed the computer. But I knew that whatever I accomplished was success because I rarely make writing a priority. How can I? I full-time parent two full-time kids.
This exercise proved to me that it can be done, but it requires sacrifice, namely sleep, but I’m convinced that’s why God allowed coffee to be created. Mmm … coffee.
Where was I? Oh, yeah. What I learned from NaNoWriMo.
Not only did it teach me discipline in making room in my day for writing, it also confirmed my call to write. At the same time, it frustrated my call to write. On the days I got in a good chunk of writing, I felt like a better mom because I wasn’t thinking about writing all day long. I’d already done it. Other days, I barely scratched across 500 words because I was out of the chair every five minutes to grant a breakfast request for my kids or change a diaper or wipe a bottom.
I haven’t gone back yet to review what I’ve written, but I’m in awe of the story that has unfolded. I don’t say that to brag on myself. I am convinced that God has called me to write, and to write this story in particular. Maybe that sounds weird or arrogant, but that’s the best way I can explain it.
Writing a novel is hard work. Duh, right? I think I have as many questions in the margins as I do words on the page. I’m eager to do some research and fill in the blanks. I don’t know if this story will ever see the light of day beyond my computer, but I’ve started the journey and I’ll go as far as God allows me to go.
To all you WriMos out there who made the 50,000 mark — way to go!
To all who participated — you rock!
And if you thought about it but didn’t — maybe next year?
Thanks, NaNoWriMo, for the inspiration.
It’s been a November to remember.
Everyone knows you’re not supposed to talk about religion or politics, right? Especially if you don’t want to start an argument.
Alisa Harris does both in her memoir Raised Right: How I Untangled My Faith from Politics. What she writes is sure to ruffle some feathers.
In a world where a vote for president often comes down to the lesser of two so-called evils, is purely partisan and sometimes divisive, Harris’ book is a refreshingly honest and humble point of view on faith and politics and where the two should (and shouldn’t) meet.
Harris was raised in a conservative Christian home in a family that actively protested at abortion clinics and always voted Republican. She believed then that the right people in power could save the country.
Through college and into adulthood, those beliefs were challenged and Harris began to question whether what she was taught to believe about politics and religion was the only way.
Her story navigates the waters where some fear to tread, introducing the idea that people can be pro-life and Democrat, opposed to abortion but pro-choice, feminists who love their families and conservatives who care about the poor.
“Not all of them are right but neither are they heretics,” Harris writes.
In a time of questioning my political allegiances (and whether patriotic hymns should be sung in church), I couldn’t put the book down. It’s a well-written and wise reminder for Christians that politics does not save us. “We can make political the things that are political and make spiritual the things that are spiritual,” Harris says.
If you’re fed up with the religious aspects of politics, read this book.
If you want to understand the people who are fed up with the religious aspects of politics, read this book.
If you like a good true-life story, read this book.
Want a preview? Click here for chapter one.
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As part of the Blogging for Books program, I received a free copy of the book from Waterbrook Multnomah Publishing Group.
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