Since I quit my day job and began living my dream of being a full time writer and artist, I have had to make peace with how counter this life is to the expect norms of productivity. We live in a world where hard work is demonstrated in those things we can measure and define. Full buckets and barns attest to the work I do on the family farm. As a teacher I measured my progress in lectures written, tests given, and papers graded, before that progress was measured by the time clock. Now it seems as if nothing I do will have such concrete proof of my effort ever again.
Sure there is the occasional painting, the drawing, and the pages that multiply on a good day, but most of days do not seem to be very productive. I read a novel, a history book, or a news post. I listen to music while staring at the clouds. I watch a movie, answer emails, or talk with a friend. From the outside it must seem as if I live of wasted time. Time spent in frivolous and unproductive pursuits. However, so much more is going on beneath the surface. It is all part of a process few understand, a process, in fact, that I am just learning to define.
As an artist, I am always on the prowl for that next piece of inspiration. I need it like a junkie needs their next hit. It is the basis and reason for my work. It is what makes life vibrant and beautiful, and when it is absent, why I am unsettled and restless.
For centuries, the essence and process of inspiration has been debated. Some claim that it is unfaithful lover coming and going at its whim. Some say that it overtakes you like a summer storm. Others find it in quiet meditation. Each a description holds merit, but yet each one fails to address how we prepare ourselves to receive the inspiration that will move us to write great words, create profound images in clay, paint, or marble.
It is true that inspiration cannot be decreed or mandated. It cannot be summoned like a faithful dog, or controlled by the powers of mental or emotional discipline. It strikes when it is ready, when the heart and mind have been properly conditioned to receive it and not before. However, despite its uncontrollable and predictable nature we can prepare ourselves to receive it, equip ourselves with the proper tools to bring it into the light of this realm.
And we can practice those things which bring us into the lightning’s path. Of all things that I hold to be true, one of the beautiful truths I celebrate is inspiration begets inspiration. So I seek out those things which hold the light inspiration within their words and images. I read the works of those who capture their inspired moment with words. I listen to those who froze that fleeting moment in the eternal language of music. I look upon those images that portray the intimacy of that perfect moment in ink and oils. They all speak to me of something greater that I too can know if I allow it to become a part of my reality.
Each idea and concept embedded in these forms takes root within my mind, a fertile ground for extraordinary and curious connections, blossoming into new and original thoughts, the basis for future creativity. My time, seemingly wasted, is Psyche sorting seeds, pulling ripe kernels of the sublime from the husks of the mundane.
A slow and arduous process where I toil, hoping to find that one brilliant insight that will breathe new life into me, it why the artist is weary from a day of what others consider leisurely activity, why watching a movie can leave us exhausted, a book or painting can drain us the point collapse. For us, the reception is never passive. A single good idea once communicated by another bursts forth in our minds as a plentiful harvest of inspired ideas of our own, compelling us to create anew, adding our perspective and experience until resembles nothing of its original state.
Our work, began by what others consider to be casual amusement, becomes consuming. Demanding to be created, given life of its own, and we find ourselves at the mercy of this strange force called inspiration. We sculpt, paint, and write trying to focus the energy we have received, praying that we have the power to give it a form that will be recognized by others and in turn allow them to know the blessing and gift of being inspired. Our ends sacrificed for their means. A cycle as old as time, and one we bow to willingly so that it may continue.
So I will “waste” some more time today, read that novel that has sat too long neglected, watch that movie that has grown dusty while I was doing my “real” work. This is my job now, to discover those seeds of inspiration that will allow me to do what I have been created to do.
Showing posts with label permission. Show all posts
Showing posts with label permission. Show all posts
Friday, May 27, 2011
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
The Lie About Artists Exposed
There is a terrible rumor flying around out there about us artists, and I think it is time that we confront it head on. I say this because too many of artists have believed it and have been using it in masochistic rituals against the very core of our beings. Over enough time believing this lie will, at the very least, leave us creatively crippled and at the worst will destroy our spirits, the part of us that makes us amazing and wonderful creations of a creative God.
The lie is simple. Artists are lazy. Now, I have to admit that there are few posers out there who have adopted the title as artist to justify their tendency to do as little as possible and live on other people’s couches and eat from their refrigerator. However, simply adopting the title does not mean one deserves the title. True artists are anything but lazy. The problem is much of our progress is difficult to measure in standard terms.
We are seen sitting staring at dust motes in the sun, following the patterns in the carpet, or getting lost in a movie. To the outside observer all of these things can be considered lazy, pointless even. What you can’t see, is the sifting process going on in our brains. If you don’t believe me ask an artist to tell you what they see in the film you watch together. Most people will tell you about the plot and the scenery or that really great actions sequence, we will tell you about the symbols and color pops, the way shots were framed, the use of music to set the tone, or the theological implications if such a thing were true.
A true artist never gets a moment alone, our heads and hearts are filled with images and ideas that like hungry children are begging for our attention. I cannot remember a time when I did not have the next painting forming and shaping itself in my mind, a character in a book not yet written pleading to have their nose described and defined by my words, or some great void of inspiration begging to filled. They are always there, when I am driving, brushing my teeth, and trying to sleep.
And like children, I tell them they can wait. I tell them I will see to their needs in a little while, and like children, they know when they are being placated so I can have moment’s peace. So many of us develop methods of coping. For me it is pacing, I pace with determination and purpose. So much so that if you were to study the padding beneath the living room carpet you would find distinct levels of compression indicating my paths.
Adding to the chaos is the number of voices, if you are or love a creative person you know that we have a million and one great ideas. We have to figure out which ones should be ignored and which ones should be embraced and nurtured. I have rejected a reoccurring idea to dye myself purple, writing random bits of poetry on the walls of my home, and welding a sea horse like apparatus to the hood of my car. I would like to say I rejected these ideas because I realized their impracticality, but the truth is I have yet to find the right shade of purple, my landlord wouldn’t appreciate the graffiti, and I don’t know how to weld.
So I have to figure out what I can do with the tools at hand, and getting to that idea requires tremendous concentration and focus – hence the pacing. Sometimes, I have to take more drastic measures to scatter the ideas enough to pick a single one from the foray. This means Air Supply has to be blasted from the stereo and I must sing loudly and off key until the proper level of tranquility has been reached. And the really sad thing is, I don’t even like Air Supply.
Then and only then, can I begin to work. Now, I call this work, others would probably call it a series of false starts. As with this blog post which was started and deleted four times to date. To the average on looker it could appear as a wasted effort and an abuse of time, but I know that all of this starting, stopping, creating and destroying is a part of the process. It’s the winnowing of the words and images that I am trying to capture. It is working out the impurities and refining the molten ideas of my heart. There are no short cuts. It is a simple surrender to something that others may not understand or value.
I think this is why so many artists must work in seclusion. We need the freedom to file our nails, and stare at our faces in the mirror before putting pen in hand, brush to canvas, or finger tip to key. The weight of scrutiny is just too much to shoulder when you are already laden with so many sensations both tangible and esoteric. We don’t need to worry about appearing strange or odd to a perplexed audience. I also think this is why there are so few famous women artists, but that is a post for another time.
Creation is labor intensive. It always has been. Even God declared the need for a rest after his endeavors. Not that he needed one, but he knew that we would need a space in time to silence all the demands of the creative process. He understood that taking a moment to consider dust motes would allow us to rest in the greatness of a God who created even these insignificant bits of wonder.
The lie is simple. Artists are lazy. Now, I have to admit that there are few posers out there who have adopted the title as artist to justify their tendency to do as little as possible and live on other people’s couches and eat from their refrigerator. However, simply adopting the title does not mean one deserves the title. True artists are anything but lazy. The problem is much of our progress is difficult to measure in standard terms.
We are seen sitting staring at dust motes in the sun, following the patterns in the carpet, or getting lost in a movie. To the outside observer all of these things can be considered lazy, pointless even. What you can’t see, is the sifting process going on in our brains. If you don’t believe me ask an artist to tell you what they see in the film you watch together. Most people will tell you about the plot and the scenery or that really great actions sequence, we will tell you about the symbols and color pops, the way shots were framed, the use of music to set the tone, or the theological implications if such a thing were true.
A true artist never gets a moment alone, our heads and hearts are filled with images and ideas that like hungry children are begging for our attention. I cannot remember a time when I did not have the next painting forming and shaping itself in my mind, a character in a book not yet written pleading to have their nose described and defined by my words, or some great void of inspiration begging to filled. They are always there, when I am driving, brushing my teeth, and trying to sleep.
And like children, I tell them they can wait. I tell them I will see to their needs in a little while, and like children, they know when they are being placated so I can have moment’s peace. So many of us develop methods of coping. For me it is pacing, I pace with determination and purpose. So much so that if you were to study the padding beneath the living room carpet you would find distinct levels of compression indicating my paths.
Adding to the chaos is the number of voices, if you are or love a creative person you know that we have a million and one great ideas. We have to figure out which ones should be ignored and which ones should be embraced and nurtured. I have rejected a reoccurring idea to dye myself purple, writing random bits of poetry on the walls of my home, and welding a sea horse like apparatus to the hood of my car. I would like to say I rejected these ideas because I realized their impracticality, but the truth is I have yet to find the right shade of purple, my landlord wouldn’t appreciate the graffiti, and I don’t know how to weld.
So I have to figure out what I can do with the tools at hand, and getting to that idea requires tremendous concentration and focus – hence the pacing. Sometimes, I have to take more drastic measures to scatter the ideas enough to pick a single one from the foray. This means Air Supply has to be blasted from the stereo and I must sing loudly and off key until the proper level of tranquility has been reached. And the really sad thing is, I don’t even like Air Supply.
Then and only then, can I begin to work. Now, I call this work, others would probably call it a series of false starts. As with this blog post which was started and deleted four times to date. To the average on looker it could appear as a wasted effort and an abuse of time, but I know that all of this starting, stopping, creating and destroying is a part of the process. It’s the winnowing of the words and images that I am trying to capture. It is working out the impurities and refining the molten ideas of my heart. There are no short cuts. It is a simple surrender to something that others may not understand or value.
I think this is why so many artists must work in seclusion. We need the freedom to file our nails, and stare at our faces in the mirror before putting pen in hand, brush to canvas, or finger tip to key. The weight of scrutiny is just too much to shoulder when you are already laden with so many sensations both tangible and esoteric. We don’t need to worry about appearing strange or odd to a perplexed audience. I also think this is why there are so few famous women artists, but that is a post for another time.
Creation is labor intensive. It always has been. Even God declared the need for a rest after his endeavors. Not that he needed one, but he knew that we would need a space in time to silence all the demands of the creative process. He understood that taking a moment to consider dust motes would allow us to rest in the greatness of a God who created even these insignificant bits of wonder.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Remembering How it Felt
A long time ago, in a land far far away, someone important to me made an insightful observation. He said that I never really thought about something until I wrote it down and I never really felt anything until I painted it out. I took it as a compliment, and I think that he meant it as such, but over the past few days I have been thinking about this part of me that needs to create. The part of me that finds its voice in the written word and painted image.
In truth it is a part of me that has only been expressed in random bits and pieces. Yes, I write this blog and I journal like it is my last life line to sanity, but it has been years since I have given myself the freedom to paint. There was a time in my life when I could pick up a brush and lose days in front of a canvas. I would stand before the clean white surface and answer its challenge with alternating fury and compassion. I would command the colors to bend and blend to my will. I would fight back the elements of chaos that tried to steal the clarity of the image and I would bring a whole new reality in existence with my finger tips.
I would later awaken, soiled brush in hand, to stare at the marvel I had birthed and wonder how I could have ever created such a thing. Sometimes in blissful amazement, at others in grim acceptance, and still at other times with horror.
But there came a season in my life when my painting became the object of scorn. The time I spent lost in this fabulous and terrifying place was resented by another person very important to me, so I stopped. I packed away all my brushes and tried to ignore the paintings that begged to painted. I visited occasionally, but that is all I allowed myself. A visit, a few hours, a carefully doled out period of time when I thought it was safe, when I knew I was in no danger of losing myself to the process. Eventually, I stopped even this. It was far too painful and never satisfying, merely a bleak reminder of what I had left behind.
As life continued, I had to worry about providing for my children. Survival depended on constant vigilance and every drop of energy had to be poured into making a living, going to school, or some pretense of housekeeping. Painting just demanded too much. So my brushes sat in the cabinet, safely out of sight, but never out of mind.
Today, I am wrestling with if it is time to open that door, like the wardrobe that leads to Narnia will I find a way home? Will I want to find a way home? How many years will pass here and there? Will you know me when I return?
Another friend of mine once asked me how I could write about art and its place in Christian theology if I wasn’t doing art. It’s a valid question. At the time, I had resigned myself to the idea that maybe I just had enough of the artistic bent to give me insight into the situation but was really meant to pursue it beyond that. I still have no desire to be an artistic success. The politics of the art world leave me apathetic, not even caring if I am commercial success, but I am learning to admit that I love the process of creating. I love the feel of the brushes in my hand and how they drag across the canvas. I am finding that my love this act is far less intellectual than I had allowed myself to believe.
It is visceral and elemental. A feeling that springs from somewhere so deep in my gut that I can not determine its source. More than a compulsion, and greater than an appetite, it is truly something that defines me as a person. It defines how I perceive this world and my place in it. It is the medium through which I define my reality and experience this life more fully.
And yet, it is the part of me that I fear the most. It is the part of me that I have yet to fully tame, and paces back and forth in my heart and mind like the lion behind steel bars. I worry when I think of releasing it, and I fear what it shall mean for me and my family. Not because I think there is anything “bad” in it, but rather it is probably the most powerful piece of who I am, lending it strength and infusing every other part of me it touches.
But it is the part of me that knows my Creator the best. It is that little bit of who I am knows the majesty and beauty of a God who decided to create a world of wonders with his voice. It when I am lost in this world of being so completely that it leaks out onto a page or canvas that I understand why he needed to speak the words that gave us life. And I am realizing that hiding from this part of me is just another way of hiding from him.
There is a piece of all of us that reflects our creator beautifully and perfectly. Where we know something about him so intimately that no one else may ever share in that revelation. It is the strongest and purest part of who we are, and it is powerful. Often intimidating the bravest of us, but what greater honor can we give him than offering it up to him?
In truth it is a part of me that has only been expressed in random bits and pieces. Yes, I write this blog and I journal like it is my last life line to sanity, but it has been years since I have given myself the freedom to paint. There was a time in my life when I could pick up a brush and lose days in front of a canvas. I would stand before the clean white surface and answer its challenge with alternating fury and compassion. I would command the colors to bend and blend to my will. I would fight back the elements of chaos that tried to steal the clarity of the image and I would bring a whole new reality in existence with my finger tips.
I would later awaken, soiled brush in hand, to stare at the marvel I had birthed and wonder how I could have ever created such a thing. Sometimes in blissful amazement, at others in grim acceptance, and still at other times with horror.
But there came a season in my life when my painting became the object of scorn. The time I spent lost in this fabulous and terrifying place was resented by another person very important to me, so I stopped. I packed away all my brushes and tried to ignore the paintings that begged to painted. I visited occasionally, but that is all I allowed myself. A visit, a few hours, a carefully doled out period of time when I thought it was safe, when I knew I was in no danger of losing myself to the process. Eventually, I stopped even this. It was far too painful and never satisfying, merely a bleak reminder of what I had left behind.
As life continued, I had to worry about providing for my children. Survival depended on constant vigilance and every drop of energy had to be poured into making a living, going to school, or some pretense of housekeeping. Painting just demanded too much. So my brushes sat in the cabinet, safely out of sight, but never out of mind.
Today, I am wrestling with if it is time to open that door, like the wardrobe that leads to Narnia will I find a way home? Will I want to find a way home? How many years will pass here and there? Will you know me when I return?
Another friend of mine once asked me how I could write about art and its place in Christian theology if I wasn’t doing art. It’s a valid question. At the time, I had resigned myself to the idea that maybe I just had enough of the artistic bent to give me insight into the situation but was really meant to pursue it beyond that. I still have no desire to be an artistic success. The politics of the art world leave me apathetic, not even caring if I am commercial success, but I am learning to admit that I love the process of creating. I love the feel of the brushes in my hand and how they drag across the canvas. I am finding that my love this act is far less intellectual than I had allowed myself to believe.
It is visceral and elemental. A feeling that springs from somewhere so deep in my gut that I can not determine its source. More than a compulsion, and greater than an appetite, it is truly something that defines me as a person. It defines how I perceive this world and my place in it. It is the medium through which I define my reality and experience this life more fully.
And yet, it is the part of me that I fear the most. It is the part of me that I have yet to fully tame, and paces back and forth in my heart and mind like the lion behind steel bars. I worry when I think of releasing it, and I fear what it shall mean for me and my family. Not because I think there is anything “bad” in it, but rather it is probably the most powerful piece of who I am, lending it strength and infusing every other part of me it touches.
But it is the part of me that knows my Creator the best. It is that little bit of who I am knows the majesty and beauty of a God who decided to create a world of wonders with his voice. It when I am lost in this world of being so completely that it leaks out onto a page or canvas that I understand why he needed to speak the words that gave us life. And I am realizing that hiding from this part of me is just another way of hiding from him.
There is a piece of all of us that reflects our creator beautifully and perfectly. Where we know something about him so intimately that no one else may ever share in that revelation. It is the strongest and purest part of who we are, and it is powerful. Often intimidating the bravest of us, but what greater honor can we give him than offering it up to him?
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Job, John the Baptist, and Hospital Gowns. Any questions?
If we have one flaw as Christians, I would have to say it isn’t nominal faith, habitual sin, or even hypocrisy. It is something that goes so deep within us that we do not even see it for the problem it is. Maybe it is because our problem is also our greatest strength. One of those double edged sword dilemmas and one we really don’t know how to address. So we ignore it, build barriers and blinds to keep us from getting to close to it, and politely steer people away from it when we can.
The problem is we have the answer to everything, and I mean that quite literally. We know the answer to all of life’s difficulties, the mysteries of the universe, the meaning of life, the purpose of evil . . . we know the answer to it all. Issues and concerns that have razed the mind of the greatest thinkers the world has ever known and we have the answer.
The problem is we don’t know as much as we think we do. Yes, we have the answer – his name is Jesus, but we don’t know what he does, we don’t understand what he does, and we certainly cannot answer every question that life throws at us. Unfortunately, most of us don’t know how to make this distinction.
We get so comfortable having the answer that we forget to ask the important questions. We don’t say, “Hey, Jesus, I don’t get this. Life isn’t making sense, and I really need some answers.” We mutter to ourselves and assure our friends that we are just having faith like it is some mantra that will ward off the doubt and confusion that can haunt our souls.
Don’t get me wrong. There are some things in life that will always be a matter of faith. For these things there will be no easy explanations. For those things we cling to the knowledge that Jesus does love us and he is there in the midst of lives working out his plans and purposes. For some things we need to rest in that assurance, but when did we get the idea that faith meant not asking the question?
John the Baptist once sent his disciples to ask Jesus if he was the Messiah or should he look for another, and a lot of people have criticized John’s doubts. However, what we often miss is that John did the right thing. He had a question. He had a concern, and who wouldn’t? Here he had baptized Jesus, proclaimed him to be the chosen one of God, lived a life dedicated to showing the people that God’s promises were being fulfilled in this person of Jesus, but at this point John was rotting in jail cell and there would be no great escape for him.
John had guts. Nothing in his life had been easy, he chose to go where God led him, live the life that would most effectively demonstrate God’s intentions for a nation. He didn’t take the easy road, and even in this question he showed his courage to confront the issues in his life that did not make sense to him. He had a question, a valid one, and he asked the right person.
He realized he had more to learn, and was not content to simply have blind faith. He knew that as man he needed answers, and sometimes we are in the same situation. Life doesn’t make sense and we have doubts, but we push them aside as if they did not exist, act like we are okay with what is happening to us, but really we are quietly dying inside trying to avoid our fear. Our fear that our faith is inadequate or maybe even the fear that even God doesn't have a "good" answer, or worse, that God takes some sort of sadistic glee in our agony. We confuse denial with faith and feel holy about it.
Asking the questions doesn’t mean that we are entitled to an answer. God doesn’t owe it to us, and that is not what I am saying, but when we ask the questions we open the door to learn more. We take down the defenses and make way for true relationship. A relationship where I can be honest enough to say, “My faith is weak, and I don’t understand you. I love you, but I don’t get this. Can you help me understand?” Sometimes the answer is, “Because I’m Daddy and I said so.” Other times the answer is greater than we imagined, and have not because we asked not.
Job had a lot of questions when his life fell apart, and he confronted God, even accusing God of being unjust. He presented his questions to the One who had the answers, and he wasn’t shy about declaring his hurt feelings. Chapter after chapter of his story is Job’s protest, and his honest language with God is a challenge for God to vindicate his actions. He asked why this was allowed to happen, but God never answers Job’s question. He simply shows up. Job gets to experience God’s presence in his life. And after all, isn't experiencing God what faith is all about?
Having the Answer is the greatest gift we could have ever been given, but Jesus is not a band-aid to be slapped on over our wounds. He is the Great Physician and great physicians examine and probe the aches and pains. They get to know their patient as we wear those rather drafty hospital gowns. Asking the question is kind of like that revealing yourself in whole new way to the one who has the cure, opening the door to presence so that we can experience him. And those list of problems so many people site with Christianity, nominalism, sin, and hypocrisy, all begin to heal as we experience him.
So ask your questions. He’s big enough to handle them.
The problem is we have the answer to everything, and I mean that quite literally. We know the answer to all of life’s difficulties, the mysteries of the universe, the meaning of life, the purpose of evil . . . we know the answer to it all. Issues and concerns that have razed the mind of the greatest thinkers the world has ever known and we have the answer.
The problem is we don’t know as much as we think we do. Yes, we have the answer – his name is Jesus, but we don’t know what he does, we don’t understand what he does, and we certainly cannot answer every question that life throws at us. Unfortunately, most of us don’t know how to make this distinction.
We get so comfortable having the answer that we forget to ask the important questions. We don’t say, “Hey, Jesus, I don’t get this. Life isn’t making sense, and I really need some answers.” We mutter to ourselves and assure our friends that we are just having faith like it is some mantra that will ward off the doubt and confusion that can haunt our souls.
Don’t get me wrong. There are some things in life that will always be a matter of faith. For these things there will be no easy explanations. For those things we cling to the knowledge that Jesus does love us and he is there in the midst of lives working out his plans and purposes. For some things we need to rest in that assurance, but when did we get the idea that faith meant not asking the question?
John the Baptist once sent his disciples to ask Jesus if he was the Messiah or should he look for another, and a lot of people have criticized John’s doubts. However, what we often miss is that John did the right thing. He had a question. He had a concern, and who wouldn’t? Here he had baptized Jesus, proclaimed him to be the chosen one of God, lived a life dedicated to showing the people that God’s promises were being fulfilled in this person of Jesus, but at this point John was rotting in jail cell and there would be no great escape for him.
John had guts. Nothing in his life had been easy, he chose to go where God led him, live the life that would most effectively demonstrate God’s intentions for a nation. He didn’t take the easy road, and even in this question he showed his courage to confront the issues in his life that did not make sense to him. He had a question, a valid one, and he asked the right person.
He realized he had more to learn, and was not content to simply have blind faith. He knew that as man he needed answers, and sometimes we are in the same situation. Life doesn’t make sense and we have doubts, but we push them aside as if they did not exist, act like we are okay with what is happening to us, but really we are quietly dying inside trying to avoid our fear. Our fear that our faith is inadequate or maybe even the fear that even God doesn't have a "good" answer, or worse, that God takes some sort of sadistic glee in our agony. We confuse denial with faith and feel holy about it.
Asking the questions doesn’t mean that we are entitled to an answer. God doesn’t owe it to us, and that is not what I am saying, but when we ask the questions we open the door to learn more. We take down the defenses and make way for true relationship. A relationship where I can be honest enough to say, “My faith is weak, and I don’t understand you. I love you, but I don’t get this. Can you help me understand?” Sometimes the answer is, “Because I’m Daddy and I said so.” Other times the answer is greater than we imagined, and have not because we asked not.
Job had a lot of questions when his life fell apart, and he confronted God, even accusing God of being unjust. He presented his questions to the One who had the answers, and he wasn’t shy about declaring his hurt feelings. Chapter after chapter of his story is Job’s protest, and his honest language with God is a challenge for God to vindicate his actions. He asked why this was allowed to happen, but God never answers Job’s question. He simply shows up. Job gets to experience God’s presence in his life. And after all, isn't experiencing God what faith is all about?
Having the Answer is the greatest gift we could have ever been given, but Jesus is not a band-aid to be slapped on over our wounds. He is the Great Physician and great physicians examine and probe the aches and pains. They get to know their patient as we wear those rather drafty hospital gowns. Asking the question is kind of like that revealing yourself in whole new way to the one who has the cure, opening the door to presence so that we can experience him. And those list of problems so many people site with Christianity, nominalism, sin, and hypocrisy, all begin to heal as we experience him.
So ask your questions. He’s big enough to handle them.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Putting It All Together – Part 7 Five Easy Steps to Financial Ruin, and Why We Took Them
I really don’t like this topic, so don’t expect too many entries on this one. It seems like all the conversations about it are a lament on how I just don’t have enough. Yep, you guessed it – money.
As I am sure most of you have figured out by now, money is a big deal. We have to have it if we are going to finance our dreams, visions, or survival, but the truth is we often make it a bigger deal than it has to be. Now, don’t get me wrong. I believe we need to be good stewards of our finances, but I don’t think that means we have to obsess over them. And if you figure out how to achieve that balance, let me know.
I think sometimes we put off our dreams until we can afford them, but dreams are like children. If you wait until you can afford them you will never have them. The people who have both are usually the ones who found themselves in the position of simply being told one day they had better gear up, adventure ahead. Now to paraphrase Louis L’Amour, adventure is the romantic name we give hardship when it happens to someone else.
And that what this is – hardship, tough times, big and scary moments, and the most fearsome beast you may ever face. But hey, no monsters, no monster slayers. Right?
Oh, I was talking about money.
I wish that I could tell you to command money to come to you through faith, that a certain prayer prayed three times a day, or even that a special internet offer would guarantee you financial success so that you can pursue your dream. I can tell you that if you will mail $2.50 to Emily Underwood-King, I will send you the instructions on how to get five fools to send you $2.50. Barring that I have no great get rich quick schemes, at least none that are legal.
I wish I could tell you that if you just follow your heart God will let a distant rich uncle who had fond memories of you as baby die off and leave his giant oil fortune to you, but if you are like me, all of your relatives are broke and probably don’t even like you that much.
So let me give it to you straight. If your dream is really that important to you, you will invest –everything. Your time, money, energy, blood, sweat, and tears all go into it. You begin saying no to that great pair of Italian heels- even if they are on sale, and know that that money represents one printing of fliers and posters or three days of Facebook ads. You do without the chocolates, even if they are just M&M’s because that is the cost of new ink pens.
There will be times when you take a leap, schedule something, commit to something, and then pray, “Dear God, how are we ever going to afford it?”, but you do it anyway because something in your gut tells you it is the right thing to do. You become creative, learning what sort of things you really do need, and things you just want. Believe it or not you can survive without cable, internet access in your home, and Starbucks. Ramen Noodles aren’t all that bad and Folgers can be an acquired taste.
You figure out how to pace yourself – translation, you only do things as you can afford it. We have all sorts of blow your mind ideas, but we are still waiting to make enough money to bring them to you. We have had to learn how to resist the urge to do everything at once, simply because the money is not there, and I don’t think it has been a bad thing.
Now don’t go and be stupid, because I know someone out there is trying to break this down into three easy steps. Let me save you some work.
1.Put everything you have into your dream.
2.Sacrifice all comforts in life.
3.Over commit yourself financially.
4.Pray God will show up.
5.Pace yourself.
There are five easy steps, and if you do them in this order, you are almost assured of filing bankruptcy in no time. Let me repeat, don’t do it this way! If you do then the list will ultimately look like this –
1.Delusions of grandeur
2.Martyr syndrome
3.Manic spending
4.Vain attempts to manipulate God.
5.Depression
So if this isn’t how to do it, why admit to this is how we did it? Because this is what we felt led to do. We spent a lot of time in prayer and preparation for this, and this time it worked. Maybe next time we will do something completely different. It is called walking in faith for a reason, there are no fool proof formulas. Formulas mean you control the outcome, but God isn’t in to that. In fact, He’s pretty big on being the one in charge of things, even the money.
And who knows, maybe next time, some forgotten rich uncle will leave me fortune. You never can predict what God will do.
As I am sure most of you have figured out by now, money is a big deal. We have to have it if we are going to finance our dreams, visions, or survival, but the truth is we often make it a bigger deal than it has to be. Now, don’t get me wrong. I believe we need to be good stewards of our finances, but I don’t think that means we have to obsess over them. And if you figure out how to achieve that balance, let me know.
I think sometimes we put off our dreams until we can afford them, but dreams are like children. If you wait until you can afford them you will never have them. The people who have both are usually the ones who found themselves in the position of simply being told one day they had better gear up, adventure ahead. Now to paraphrase Louis L’Amour, adventure is the romantic name we give hardship when it happens to someone else.
And that what this is – hardship, tough times, big and scary moments, and the most fearsome beast you may ever face. But hey, no monsters, no monster slayers. Right?
Oh, I was talking about money.
I wish that I could tell you to command money to come to you through faith, that a certain prayer prayed three times a day, or even that a special internet offer would guarantee you financial success so that you can pursue your dream. I can tell you that if you will mail $2.50 to Emily Underwood-King, I will send you the instructions on how to get five fools to send you $2.50. Barring that I have no great get rich quick schemes, at least none that are legal.
I wish I could tell you that if you just follow your heart God will let a distant rich uncle who had fond memories of you as baby die off and leave his giant oil fortune to you, but if you are like me, all of your relatives are broke and probably don’t even like you that much.
So let me give it to you straight. If your dream is really that important to you, you will invest –everything. Your time, money, energy, blood, sweat, and tears all go into it. You begin saying no to that great pair of Italian heels- even if they are on sale, and know that that money represents one printing of fliers and posters or three days of Facebook ads. You do without the chocolates, even if they are just M&M’s because that is the cost of new ink pens.
There will be times when you take a leap, schedule something, commit to something, and then pray, “Dear God, how are we ever going to afford it?”, but you do it anyway because something in your gut tells you it is the right thing to do. You become creative, learning what sort of things you really do need, and things you just want. Believe it or not you can survive without cable, internet access in your home, and Starbucks. Ramen Noodles aren’t all that bad and Folgers can be an acquired taste.
You figure out how to pace yourself – translation, you only do things as you can afford it. We have all sorts of blow your mind ideas, but we are still waiting to make enough money to bring them to you. We have had to learn how to resist the urge to do everything at once, simply because the money is not there, and I don’t think it has been a bad thing.
Now don’t go and be stupid, because I know someone out there is trying to break this down into three easy steps. Let me save you some work.
1.Put everything you have into your dream.
2.Sacrifice all comforts in life.
3.Over commit yourself financially.
4.Pray God will show up.
5.Pace yourself.
There are five easy steps, and if you do them in this order, you are almost assured of filing bankruptcy in no time. Let me repeat, don’t do it this way! If you do then the list will ultimately look like this –
1.Delusions of grandeur
2.Martyr syndrome
3.Manic spending
4.Vain attempts to manipulate God.
5.Depression
So if this isn’t how to do it, why admit to this is how we did it? Because this is what we felt led to do. We spent a lot of time in prayer and preparation for this, and this time it worked. Maybe next time we will do something completely different. It is called walking in faith for a reason, there are no fool proof formulas. Formulas mean you control the outcome, but God isn’t in to that. In fact, He’s pretty big on being the one in charge of things, even the money.
And who knows, maybe next time, some forgotten rich uncle will leave me fortune. You never can predict what God will do.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Putting It All Together – Part 6 Giving out and Giving Up
There are days when you don’t want to do this. Days when nothing seems to flow and all the little details overwhelm you. You are standing at the edge of a cliff and you are not for sure if you are jumping or if you are being shoved.
There are bills to pay, mailings to do, people to meet, and so many other things that keep you from focusing on the dream before you. Inevitably this is when someone in the family has a medical crisis, the car breaks down, or the dog dies. All you can think about is how much easier it would be if you had a real job, a boss to blame, and a regular pay check.
If you think that you will never have this day, you are lying to yourself. There is no way around it, and you need to be mentally prepared for it. This why you need that group of supporting loving people around you. You need to talk it out, remember why you chose this road, and keep dreaming together. It is what keeps the dream alive. I truly believe this is a central part to overcoming the enemy by the word of your testimony.
We seldom think of telling speaking our dreams out loud as part of our testimony. We think about our testimony as something that is done, not something that we have yet to see materialize, but the dream within you is a major part of you who you are and becomes the blueprint for the testimony you want to have.
Honestly, today was one of those days for me. I did not want to do all the things I know I need to do. I wanted to crawl back into bed and forget about all the stuff that requires my attention. It was so hard. So hard that I really did not accomplish much of what I intended to do today. And at the end of the day, I had to deal with the feeling of being a complete failure.
I wanted to give up and questioned why I do this. Sometimes there are ways to rekindle that excitement. I practice my presentation to an empty living room, give myself permission to read a book or watch television for a while, or simply to sit and dream about how it is going to feel when I finally get to do what I have been preparing to do.
Other times, forget nothing is going to work and you just have to wait it out. At these times, I have to step back and cut myself some slack. I try to put a time frame on it, a day or a few hours, or the next thing you know you have taken up residence in the land of “What might have been.” It is easy to become exhausted and your thoughts become muddled. Decision making abilities fly out the window, and it can affect your whole endeavor. If you can take a short break, do it. If not, go back to the original plan and make sure everything you decide is based on it, and not some by product of an emotional breakdown.
I survived the day, and the progress can only be measured in inches and not miles, but it was progress. I figure that if I don’t give up than I can’t fail. There is no finish line for our endeavors only mile markers that show how far we’ve come. I know there will never be a day when I can wipe my hands and say “There we did it.” The best I can hope for is a chance to ask “So what’s next?” And if I am I am lucky it will be something else equally impossible, and entirely too ambitious. I look forward to it really, because I have found that God is usually somewhere out there in the impossible and that’s the best place to be.
There are bills to pay, mailings to do, people to meet, and so many other things that keep you from focusing on the dream before you. Inevitably this is when someone in the family has a medical crisis, the car breaks down, or the dog dies. All you can think about is how much easier it would be if you had a real job, a boss to blame, and a regular pay check.
If you think that you will never have this day, you are lying to yourself. There is no way around it, and you need to be mentally prepared for it. This why you need that group of supporting loving people around you. You need to talk it out, remember why you chose this road, and keep dreaming together. It is what keeps the dream alive. I truly believe this is a central part to overcoming the enemy by the word of your testimony.
We seldom think of telling speaking our dreams out loud as part of our testimony. We think about our testimony as something that is done, not something that we have yet to see materialize, but the dream within you is a major part of you who you are and becomes the blueprint for the testimony you want to have.
Honestly, today was one of those days for me. I did not want to do all the things I know I need to do. I wanted to crawl back into bed and forget about all the stuff that requires my attention. It was so hard. So hard that I really did not accomplish much of what I intended to do today. And at the end of the day, I had to deal with the feeling of being a complete failure.
I wanted to give up and questioned why I do this. Sometimes there are ways to rekindle that excitement. I practice my presentation to an empty living room, give myself permission to read a book or watch television for a while, or simply to sit and dream about how it is going to feel when I finally get to do what I have been preparing to do.
Other times, forget nothing is going to work and you just have to wait it out. At these times, I have to step back and cut myself some slack. I try to put a time frame on it, a day or a few hours, or the next thing you know you have taken up residence in the land of “What might have been.” It is easy to become exhausted and your thoughts become muddled. Decision making abilities fly out the window, and it can affect your whole endeavor. If you can take a short break, do it. If not, go back to the original plan and make sure everything you decide is based on it, and not some by product of an emotional breakdown.
I survived the day, and the progress can only be measured in inches and not miles, but it was progress. I figure that if I don’t give up than I can’t fail. There is no finish line for our endeavors only mile markers that show how far we’ve come. I know there will never be a day when I can wipe my hands and say “There we did it.” The best I can hope for is a chance to ask “So what’s next?” And if I am I am lucky it will be something else equally impossible, and entirely too ambitious. I look forward to it really, because I have found that God is usually somewhere out there in the impossible and that’s the best place to be.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Putting It All Together – Part 5 The Hills of Sparta
Putting your dream out there is a lot like leaving a baby exposed on the hillsides of ancient Sparta. If the child is fortunate some compassionate soul will come and save it from impending doom, if not it simply dies of exposure.
Unfortunately, many times dreams do die of exposure, and we wonder why we did not just keep them to ourselves. It was easier before we told everyone what we hoped to achieve, before they started telling us why we should not try doing something so audacious as teach people about God, or think that we are something special. We begin to doubt the wisdom of revealing this fragile piece of ourselves to the world, and we decide to stick to something less daring, less painful.
In the last entry, I talked about the team of people who have invested in this dream called Pagus, and I know that some of you are wondering how we managed to get so much help, why our dream wasn’t rejected or allowed to die of exposure. There are two reasons –
The first is we worked our fannies off for years before we asked people to take part in this. We demonstrated that we were willing to put in the time, effort, money, and energy to make it happen way before we ever approached another person to help. As I said before, I went to school and Nathan went to work with a church plant in Norman, and it was not quick or easy. We did not take short cuts in establishing our identity as people who were dedicated to pursuing our dreams. We actively demonstrated that we believed in the dreams God entrusted to us, we valued this vision, and were willing to make the hard choices to make the dream a reality.
When we discovered that we needed a tool or skill we did not possess, one of us learned how to do it. Nathan who had no prior experience designing a website, asked for some help from our uncle and learned as they put it together. When we need fliers, I read design and advertising books to find out how to create an eye catching mailing. We networked like crazy, calling people we had not seen in years, mere acquaintances, and even accosting strangers. We found that our years in retail sales jobs had prepared us to talk to anyone at anytime about this thing called Pagus.
People saw how hard we worked and were intrigued with our passion. We began to get little bits of encouragement that turned into full on curiosity, and finally became “Hey, what can I do to help?”
As each new piece fell into place we would get more and more excited. And the more excited we became the more we talked about it. I think I told five total strangers the day I opened our Pagus checking account – We have a debit card that says Pagus! Really, I did not announce my daughters’ births with such glee, and when we got the first run of fliers. . .rarely in my life have I experienced such bliss. Years of work and sacrifice were beginning to reveal their purpose. It was amazing! It still is, and when you are this thrilled about anything, people tend to listen. They want something to be excited about, and there are not enough real things for people to get excited over.
People wanted to be a part, and out of the goodness of our hearts we let them. And we had something, and someone else to be excited about. So we began to talk more to more people, and . . .
The second thing is we were very intentional from the very beginning that we wanted everyone’s experience with Pagus to positive. Not just for those who attend a Pagus event or those who work with Pagus, everyone. This means if we go to a restaurant and we pay for a dinner on the Pagus account – the servers should be tipped well. When we have an event, we want all the coordinators from that venue to be happy to work with us. We want them to want us to come back.
We want people to know that we are different from other groups they may have worked with in the past, and as we have both worked in service industries we realize that many times the easiest way to separate yourself from the crowd is to show some courtesy. I know it sounds way too simple, but it is the truth. Smile at the sales person, talk to the clerk like they are person, offer to wait when there is a rush, and voila, you are an instant celebrity.
I feel the need to clarify one point. We did not make this decision to manipulative. We made it as people who have been that server in the restaurant, the barista in the coffee shop, or the clerk at the store, and too often the rudest people we dealt with were angry Christians. We made this decision to remind ourselves that we never wanted to be like that. We wanted to be who the Bible declares we should be, it is amazing how well it works.
When you couple enthusiasm with some grace people are thrilled to be a part of what you are doing. In world where Christians are so easily identified by what they are against or angry about people are dying for chance to be a part of something meaningful , a part of something that is for a greater cause. And when you are chasing a God given dream these things should be defining elements of our lives.
Unfortunately, many times dreams do die of exposure, and we wonder why we did not just keep them to ourselves. It was easier before we told everyone what we hoped to achieve, before they started telling us why we should not try doing something so audacious as teach people about God, or think that we are something special. We begin to doubt the wisdom of revealing this fragile piece of ourselves to the world, and we decide to stick to something less daring, less painful.
In the last entry, I talked about the team of people who have invested in this dream called Pagus, and I know that some of you are wondering how we managed to get so much help, why our dream wasn’t rejected or allowed to die of exposure. There are two reasons –
The first is we worked our fannies off for years before we asked people to take part in this. We demonstrated that we were willing to put in the time, effort, money, and energy to make it happen way before we ever approached another person to help. As I said before, I went to school and Nathan went to work with a church plant in Norman, and it was not quick or easy. We did not take short cuts in establishing our identity as people who were dedicated to pursuing our dreams. We actively demonstrated that we believed in the dreams God entrusted to us, we valued this vision, and were willing to make the hard choices to make the dream a reality.
When we discovered that we needed a tool or skill we did not possess, one of us learned how to do it. Nathan who had no prior experience designing a website, asked for some help from our uncle and learned as they put it together. When we need fliers, I read design and advertising books to find out how to create an eye catching mailing. We networked like crazy, calling people we had not seen in years, mere acquaintances, and even accosting strangers. We found that our years in retail sales jobs had prepared us to talk to anyone at anytime about this thing called Pagus.
People saw how hard we worked and were intrigued with our passion. We began to get little bits of encouragement that turned into full on curiosity, and finally became “Hey, what can I do to help?”
As each new piece fell into place we would get more and more excited. And the more excited we became the more we talked about it. I think I told five total strangers the day I opened our Pagus checking account – We have a debit card that says Pagus! Really, I did not announce my daughters’ births with such glee, and when we got the first run of fliers. . .rarely in my life have I experienced such bliss. Years of work and sacrifice were beginning to reveal their purpose. It was amazing! It still is, and when you are this thrilled about anything, people tend to listen. They want something to be excited about, and there are not enough real things for people to get excited over.
People wanted to be a part, and out of the goodness of our hearts we let them. And we had something, and someone else to be excited about. So we began to talk more to more people, and . . .
The second thing is we were very intentional from the very beginning that we wanted everyone’s experience with Pagus to positive. Not just for those who attend a Pagus event or those who work with Pagus, everyone. This means if we go to a restaurant and we pay for a dinner on the Pagus account – the servers should be tipped well. When we have an event, we want all the coordinators from that venue to be happy to work with us. We want them to want us to come back.
We want people to know that we are different from other groups they may have worked with in the past, and as we have both worked in service industries we realize that many times the easiest way to separate yourself from the crowd is to show some courtesy. I know it sounds way too simple, but it is the truth. Smile at the sales person, talk to the clerk like they are person, offer to wait when there is a rush, and voila, you are an instant celebrity.
I feel the need to clarify one point. We did not make this decision to manipulative. We made it as people who have been that server in the restaurant, the barista in the coffee shop, or the clerk at the store, and too often the rudest people we dealt with were angry Christians. We made this decision to remind ourselves that we never wanted to be like that. We wanted to be who the Bible declares we should be, it is amazing how well it works.
When you couple enthusiasm with some grace people are thrilled to be a part of what you are doing. In world where Christians are so easily identified by what they are against or angry about people are dying for chance to be a part of something meaningful , a part of something that is for a greater cause. And when you are chasing a God given dream these things should be defining elements of our lives.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Putting It All Together – Part 4 Passports and Puffins on the Pagus
In case you haven’t realized it yet, dreams are big deal to us at Pagus. My dream, your dream, and the dreams we get to dream together.
Several years ago, I was trying to find just the right Christmas gift for Nathan. Now we grew up in a family where getting gifts usually meant buying something practical or needed for a person, and I tended to follow that rule. After all, can a person really ever have too many socks or too much underwear?
This year, however, was different. I kept thinking I needed to by him a leather passport cover. I tried to talk myself out of it. It seemed like such a frivolous waste of money when we were both struggling to get by, but nothing else seemed to be the right thing. As I drove to Tulsa to fight the holiday crowds, I kept thinking how foolish I was being wasting a whole day to get a cover for a passport he did not have, for a trip he would not be able to take anytime soon. It was really beginning to bother me that something in me refused to yield the idea to commonsense.
I kept asking myself why it was so important for me to get him something so pointless, so worthless to our present reality. Somewhere on that drive I found the answer. I won’t say that God spoke to me, there were no burning bushes, clouds did not part, no audible voice shook the world, but it was like all the little pieces of
everything I knew fell into place.
That year had been really tough on us. If I remember correctly we had both lost romantic relationships, and were feeling rather lonely. We were both wondering if we had made the correct decisions – he was living far from home and I was single mom working her way through school. Money was almost nonexistent, and we just wanted something to make sense. The dreams were becoming obscured by reality.
Sometime about then we had begun to learn more about our family history, and became intrigued by our Irish ancestry. It seemed the more we learned about this people and land the more we understood ourselves. Many of the books we read would describe a particularly Irish trait and we would call each other and say “You know that thing you do. . . Well, this book says this about that.” The more we learned the more we wanted to go and see this place. We would talk about the day when we could go check out this pub, that castle or monastery, or the island where the puffins gather. And who can resist puffins? Really? They are like little cartoon characters God decided to bring to life just to make me smile.
But back to Nathan’s Christmas present. I realized that this year I wasn’t just buying him something everyone else thought he needed. I was buying him something I knew he needed. He needed to know that his dreams were important. He needed to know that someone else saw the value of his desire to go and see this land. Not because it practical in the conventional sense of the word, but because it is necessary in the truest sense of the word. And I do not know if I actually mean that the trip is necessary or if the gift is necessary.
Let me explain.
The truth is Nathan may never make it to Ireland, but that’s not the point. The point is we need someone to see our dreams and value them with us. We need people by our side who say I will make your dreams a priority to me. And we need to invest in the dreams of those we love, because our dreams are the truest part of who we are. They reveal our hearts and souls as nothing else can.
As Pagus had grown beyond just me and Nathan, we have found a group of people who believe in our dreams, who have chosen to value our vision. Some have chosen to walk with us because they believe in what we are doing. Others simply because they love Nathan and me. There are a few who have joined us because we have believed and invested in their dreams. And I believe it is safe to say, that for most of those who are now a part of Pagus it is a combination of all these factors.
We could not do without their help. We have people who work on the website, take photographs, check my layouts for typo’s, donate studio time, offer their homes for meetings, prepare meals for our gatherings, pass out fliers, make phone calls, do research, and listen to me rant. People whose talents fill in the gaps in ours, people who are more practically minded and keep us on track. I have one friend who randomly texts me good ideas for marketing – got to love that. Another one who gives me lime and chili almonds because she knows I will forget to eat, and still another who watches my kids so I have time to put things together.
And it is more than all the work we do or the things we give, we have begun to dream together. We have found the pieces of ourselves that might have been lost if someone else had not said this part of you is valuable and worthy of my investment. There is power in that, something indescribably freeing, and of infinite value. My dream does not work if theirs fail and something in their dreams will be lacking if I get left behind. We all need this.
It is not enough to dream in the dark. We have to expose them to light of day if they are ever to take a form. Find your team, find people who can value what you do, who you are, and people who you can trust with something as delicate and valuable as this piece of yourself. They are the ones who help you make it happen, and you do your best to make it happen for them. You will be surprised at how far you can go.
Several years ago, I was trying to find just the right Christmas gift for Nathan. Now we grew up in a family where getting gifts usually meant buying something practical or needed for a person, and I tended to follow that rule. After all, can a person really ever have too many socks or too much underwear?
This year, however, was different. I kept thinking I needed to by him a leather passport cover. I tried to talk myself out of it. It seemed like such a frivolous waste of money when we were both struggling to get by, but nothing else seemed to be the right thing. As I drove to Tulsa to fight the holiday crowds, I kept thinking how foolish I was being wasting a whole day to get a cover for a passport he did not have, for a trip he would not be able to take anytime soon. It was really beginning to bother me that something in me refused to yield the idea to commonsense.
I kept asking myself why it was so important for me to get him something so pointless, so worthless to our present reality. Somewhere on that drive I found the answer. I won’t say that God spoke to me, there were no burning bushes, clouds did not part, no audible voice shook the world, but it was like all the little pieces of
everything I knew fell into place.
That year had been really tough on us. If I remember correctly we had both lost romantic relationships, and were feeling rather lonely. We were both wondering if we had made the correct decisions – he was living far from home and I was single mom working her way through school. Money was almost nonexistent, and we just wanted something to make sense. The dreams were becoming obscured by reality.
Sometime about then we had begun to learn more about our family history, and became intrigued by our Irish ancestry. It seemed the more we learned about this people and land the more we understood ourselves. Many of the books we read would describe a particularly Irish trait and we would call each other and say “You know that thing you do. . . Well, this book says this about that.” The more we learned the more we wanted to go and see this place. We would talk about the day when we could go check out this pub, that castle or monastery, or the island where the puffins gather. And who can resist puffins? Really? They are like little cartoon characters God decided to bring to life just to make me smile.
But back to Nathan’s Christmas present. I realized that this year I wasn’t just buying him something everyone else thought he needed. I was buying him something I knew he needed. He needed to know that his dreams were important. He needed to know that someone else saw the value of his desire to go and see this land. Not because it practical in the conventional sense of the word, but because it is necessary in the truest sense of the word. And I do not know if I actually mean that the trip is necessary or if the gift is necessary.
Let me explain.
The truth is Nathan may never make it to Ireland, but that’s not the point. The point is we need someone to see our dreams and value them with us. We need people by our side who say I will make your dreams a priority to me. And we need to invest in the dreams of those we love, because our dreams are the truest part of who we are. They reveal our hearts and souls as nothing else can.
As Pagus had grown beyond just me and Nathan, we have found a group of people who believe in our dreams, who have chosen to value our vision. Some have chosen to walk with us because they believe in what we are doing. Others simply because they love Nathan and me. There are a few who have joined us because we have believed and invested in their dreams. And I believe it is safe to say, that for most of those who are now a part of Pagus it is a combination of all these factors.
We could not do without their help. We have people who work on the website, take photographs, check my layouts for typo’s, donate studio time, offer their homes for meetings, prepare meals for our gatherings, pass out fliers, make phone calls, do research, and listen to me rant. People whose talents fill in the gaps in ours, people who are more practically minded and keep us on track. I have one friend who randomly texts me good ideas for marketing – got to love that. Another one who gives me lime and chili almonds because she knows I will forget to eat, and still another who watches my kids so I have time to put things together.
And it is more than all the work we do or the things we give, we have begun to dream together. We have found the pieces of ourselves that might have been lost if someone else had not said this part of you is valuable and worthy of my investment. There is power in that, something indescribably freeing, and of infinite value. My dream does not work if theirs fail and something in their dreams will be lacking if I get left behind. We all need this.
It is not enough to dream in the dark. We have to expose them to light of day if they are ever to take a form. Find your team, find people who can value what you do, who you are, and people who you can trust with something as delicate and valuable as this piece of yourself. They are the ones who help you make it happen, and you do your best to make it happen for them. You will be surprised at how far you can go.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Putting It All Together – Part 3 Google searches and Noah
Okay, have you figured out what you do?
No?
Then maybe you need to consider a second question. What do you want to do?
Remember the caveats from the first entry, and then let yourself dream. If you could do anything at all what would it be? What have you kept yourself from doing because you were worried it was too big, too costly, or too outrageous?
My head shrinker once asked me, “If you woke up tomorrow and God and performed a miracle in your sleep how would you know what he had done?” (Yes, I have a shrink, insanity at this level requires some coaching.) Knowing what the dream looks like is vital, or life becomes like a Google search – so many great and not so great options, so little time. Envision yourself there, figure out what it looks like, how
it feels and smells.
Once you know your dream, and you have recognized your gifts, you need to figure out how to make it happen. I like to work backwards. When we started with the idea of Pagus, we asked ourselves what would we change about our world? For us, we would be able to embrace both our artistic sides and our Christianity. These two realms often seem worlds apart, and as Christian artists we need both.
So we began looking at ways to bring these two parts of our lives together. We realized that we faced some serious obstacles. The first most artist do not feel like they fit or need religion, spirituality yes, religion no. The second obstacle was a lack of appreciation or understanding of the arts within Christianity. So that meant we need to be able to teach.
Okay, we wanted to teach, but to who and how?
We wanted to teach to artists. We wanted to reaffirm their position in the body, but we really did not know what the Bible taught on that. We had an idea based off our personal experience, but that is really shaky ground. We had some circumstantial evidence, but we felt like we needed something more solid still. We could envision some really great events – which we are still planning to do – to bring the church and the artist together, but it soon became apparent teaching the artists was not enough. We had to reinform the church about the forgotten artist.
Now things really got hairy, because it is all well and good to have a dream, but can you hang onto it when everyone says you are crazy? When no thinks it will work? Or accuses you of being too idealistic? Or do you simply say, “Well, God closed the door on that dream.”?
Let me tell you a story. There was once this guy named Noah, and he decided to build a boat. His neighbors ridiculed him, his kids complained about having to work on this thing with their weird dad, and I am sure his wife reminded him daily that he had lost it, but he went out every day for probably years and cut down another tree. And he saved a bunch of animals and all that were left of the human race. The end.
Doing the things that make your dream possible is easy, doing the dream is often difficult. We realized that if the church was ever going to hear what we had to say we needed to bring more to the table than “Hey, I have this great idea.” So we made a plan. I went to school and Nathan went to Norman, Oklahoma. For years we each worked at gathering the information and experience we needed to make our message credible. I got a degree in psychology and another in Biblical Literature (just a fancy way to say I read Hebrew and Greek). Nathan became a worship leader at a church plant and later moved to the Dallas area to work in another body.
Learning is easy for me. I was trained to absorb ideas by my parents. I love to read. I can write a killer paper, but three years of days that began at 5:30 a.m. and ended at midnight or later got old really fast, as did three hour round trip commute to school. It wasn’t easy.
Playing music is easy for Nathan, but things were no picnic for him when he left to go where God called him to prepare for Pagus. I won’t presume to tell his story, but there were times we both wondered why we were doing this. There were times the dream was obscured by circumstance, but once we had caught a glimpse of what was possible we knew we could not refuse to take the chance.
Ask yourself, what are you willing to lose for the sake of a dream? Sleep? Meals? Some self respect? The respect of others? Can you live with yourself if you didn’t try? That’s the dream to chase with everything you have in you, and when you run out of yourself and it still won’t leave you alone, you are probably on the right path.
No?
Then maybe you need to consider a second question. What do you want to do?
Remember the caveats from the first entry, and then let yourself dream. If you could do anything at all what would it be? What have you kept yourself from doing because you were worried it was too big, too costly, or too outrageous?
My head shrinker once asked me, “If you woke up tomorrow and God and performed a miracle in your sleep how would you know what he had done?” (Yes, I have a shrink, insanity at this level requires some coaching.) Knowing what the dream looks like is vital, or life becomes like a Google search – so many great and not so great options, so little time. Envision yourself there, figure out what it looks like, how
it feels and smells.
Once you know your dream, and you have recognized your gifts, you need to figure out how to make it happen. I like to work backwards. When we started with the idea of Pagus, we asked ourselves what would we change about our world? For us, we would be able to embrace both our artistic sides and our Christianity. These two realms often seem worlds apart, and as Christian artists we need both.
So we began looking at ways to bring these two parts of our lives together. We realized that we faced some serious obstacles. The first most artist do not feel like they fit or need religion, spirituality yes, religion no. The second obstacle was a lack of appreciation or understanding of the arts within Christianity. So that meant we need to be able to teach.
Okay, we wanted to teach, but to who and how?
We wanted to teach to artists. We wanted to reaffirm their position in the body, but we really did not know what the Bible taught on that. We had an idea based off our personal experience, but that is really shaky ground. We had some circumstantial evidence, but we felt like we needed something more solid still. We could envision some really great events – which we are still planning to do – to bring the church and the artist together, but it soon became apparent teaching the artists was not enough. We had to reinform the church about the forgotten artist.
Now things really got hairy, because it is all well and good to have a dream, but can you hang onto it when everyone says you are crazy? When no thinks it will work? Or accuses you of being too idealistic? Or do you simply say, “Well, God closed the door on that dream.”?
Let me tell you a story. There was once this guy named Noah, and he decided to build a boat. His neighbors ridiculed him, his kids complained about having to work on this thing with their weird dad, and I am sure his wife reminded him daily that he had lost it, but he went out every day for probably years and cut down another tree. And he saved a bunch of animals and all that were left of the human race. The end.
Doing the things that make your dream possible is easy, doing the dream is often difficult. We realized that if the church was ever going to hear what we had to say we needed to bring more to the table than “Hey, I have this great idea.” So we made a plan. I went to school and Nathan went to Norman, Oklahoma. For years we each worked at gathering the information and experience we needed to make our message credible. I got a degree in psychology and another in Biblical Literature (just a fancy way to say I read Hebrew and Greek). Nathan became a worship leader at a church plant and later moved to the Dallas area to work in another body.
Learning is easy for me. I was trained to absorb ideas by my parents. I love to read. I can write a killer paper, but three years of days that began at 5:30 a.m. and ended at midnight or later got old really fast, as did three hour round trip commute to school. It wasn’t easy.
Playing music is easy for Nathan, but things were no picnic for him when he left to go where God called him to prepare for Pagus. I won’t presume to tell his story, but there were times we both wondered why we were doing this. There were times the dream was obscured by circumstance, but once we had caught a glimpse of what was possible we knew we could not refuse to take the chance.
Ask yourself, what are you willing to lose for the sake of a dream? Sleep? Meals? Some self respect? The respect of others? Can you live with yourself if you didn’t try? That’s the dream to chase with everything you have in you, and when you run out of yourself and it still won’t leave you alone, you are probably on the right path.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Putting It All Together - Part 1 Why I Can't Ice Skate or Don't Lick the Fly Swat
When we started Pagus, we started from scratch, and I do mean scratch. It is easy to imagine doing what you love, but there seem to be no road signs or maps to tell you how to get there. In many ways we found that it is easier than what we thought would be, and a lot harder than we expected.
People ooh and awe over centerpieces and pretty presentations, but that’s the easy stuff. The hard stuff is the stuff people do not see.
The first obstacle is us, or more specifically, me. I am the constantly at war with both of me.
The first part of me says there is nothing more exciting than doing this. I have the coolest job ever, so obviously it can’t be a job. I am being selfish and arrogant in believing I can do this. I need to grow up, be responsible, and get a real job.
The second part says there is nothing more frightening than this. It is big and scary. I am constantly running the risk of making a fool out of myself, losing all my money, or simply being presumptuous.
I need both of those voices to keep the other one in check. I need to embrace the adventure, accept that I am good at this, and it is not selfish to do what God created me to do. I also need to keep in mind that I am biting off way more than I can chew and if God is not on board with this I am in trouble, so I had better stay on my knees. Either way, I have to receive permission to do what I do.
Now obviously there are some caveats. My dream to be an Olympic ice skater is probably not happening, no matter how much permission I give myself. Nor do I think I will ever create an environmentally friendly non-carbon based fuel that sells for pennies , take over a third world country, or complete a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle – my dreams are many and diverse.
I feel like I should warn you, once you make the decision to start chasing your dream there are going to those who think that you should stick to something safe. The funny thing is these people seem to have some sort of telepathic powers, they don’t even have to say the words, but you can hear them loud and clear. Just remember for some people negativity is hardwired into their DNA, don’t fall victim to their toxicity.
However, let me be clear here. We all need advisors. We all need clear headed, objective people to help us make wise decisions. Sometimes, if they really love you, they will tell you that there are things you just should not try – like dying yourself purple, eating a habanera pepper or licking the electric fly swat. It isn’t easy to hear, but if they have walked with you in good times and bad, sacrificed time and energy to be your friend then listen. Some of us really shouldn’t be doing things like singing in public, dying our own hair, or wearing spandex – ever.
If the people who really love you caution you against a certain course of action, then they are probably trying to nicely tell you that you are going to make a fool of yourself if you continue. Please listen to them. If you are unsure about the people you call friends, may I suggest a few test runs of things you know to be stupid – they sell those electric fly swats at Bass Pro.
So how do you know if your dream is the dream you should pursue?
After you have talked yourself out of it, listed all the reasons why you shouldn’t, convinced you and all your friends of the absurdity of you doing a thing like this, you should forget it. If you reject it for all the altruistic reasons, and love it for the selfish ones, but still can’t commit to the idea, try something else. If the idea makes you feel powerful and important, walk away, you are probably doing it for the wrong reasons. If it doesn’t scare you it isn’t a dream, it’s a distraction. Above all else, you should walk away from it, put down, kill it off, and if it just keeps coming back bring it in out of the rain, feed it, name it, and realize it is yours to keep. Treat it right.
People ooh and awe over centerpieces and pretty presentations, but that’s the easy stuff. The hard stuff is the stuff people do not see.
The first obstacle is us, or more specifically, me. I am the constantly at war with both of me.
The first part of me says there is nothing more exciting than doing this. I have the coolest job ever, so obviously it can’t be a job. I am being selfish and arrogant in believing I can do this. I need to grow up, be responsible, and get a real job.
The second part says there is nothing more frightening than this. It is big and scary. I am constantly running the risk of making a fool out of myself, losing all my money, or simply being presumptuous.
I need both of those voices to keep the other one in check. I need to embrace the adventure, accept that I am good at this, and it is not selfish to do what God created me to do. I also need to keep in mind that I am biting off way more than I can chew and if God is not on board with this I am in trouble, so I had better stay on my knees. Either way, I have to receive permission to do what I do.
Now obviously there are some caveats. My dream to be an Olympic ice skater is probably not happening, no matter how much permission I give myself. Nor do I think I will ever create an environmentally friendly non-carbon based fuel that sells for pennies , take over a third world country, or complete a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle – my dreams are many and diverse.
I feel like I should warn you, once you make the decision to start chasing your dream there are going to those who think that you should stick to something safe. The funny thing is these people seem to have some sort of telepathic powers, they don’t even have to say the words, but you can hear them loud and clear. Just remember for some people negativity is hardwired into their DNA, don’t fall victim to their toxicity.
However, let me be clear here. We all need advisors. We all need clear headed, objective people to help us make wise decisions. Sometimes, if they really love you, they will tell you that there are things you just should not try – like dying yourself purple, eating a habanera pepper or licking the electric fly swat. It isn’t easy to hear, but if they have walked with you in good times and bad, sacrificed time and energy to be your friend then listen. Some of us really shouldn’t be doing things like singing in public, dying our own hair, or wearing spandex – ever.
If the people who really love you caution you against a certain course of action, then they are probably trying to nicely tell you that you are going to make a fool of yourself if you continue. Please listen to them. If you are unsure about the people you call friends, may I suggest a few test runs of things you know to be stupid – they sell those electric fly swats at Bass Pro.
So how do you know if your dream is the dream you should pursue?
After you have talked yourself out of it, listed all the reasons why you shouldn’t, convinced you and all your friends of the absurdity of you doing a thing like this, you should forget it. If you reject it for all the altruistic reasons, and love it for the selfish ones, but still can’t commit to the idea, try something else. If the idea makes you feel powerful and important, walk away, you are probably doing it for the wrong reasons. If it doesn’t scare you it isn’t a dream, it’s a distraction. Above all else, you should walk away from it, put down, kill it off, and if it just keeps coming back bring it in out of the rain, feed it, name it, and realize it is yours to keep. Treat it right.
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