Ever since my preschool teacher gig ended the last week of May, I've had a lot of extra time off. Even with two (actually, due to some boring stuff I don't want to go into, it's now officially THREE) other jobs apart from the preschool thing, I can't seem to get enough hours to fully occupy my time. And I know that when schools get out around here, I'm going to have to devote full days instead of full afternoons to my nanny job--but in the meantime, I have a lot more time to do absolutely nothing.
Now, if this time had been handed to me back in January or February, I know exactly what I would do with it. I'd work on writing stuff until my fingers fell off. Since I kind of like my fingers attached to my hands, I guess it's a good thing that I didn't have a lot of free time then.
The thing is, there's something about the summer that makes me feel...well, I can't think of a word for it. Lazy was the first word that came to my mind, but that's not what I'm looking for. I mean, I can be lazy (yesterday was an example of how I can unforgivably waste a lot of time playing computer games when I'm supposed to be working on writing--and I hope never to repeat it--but something tells me I will). But I think a better term to describe how summer makes me feel is...relaxed.
I blame it on the fact that I spent my entire childhood going to school for every season besides summer. When summer came, no more work. I got to sleep in late and watch tv and read books and play outside and go swimming and go on vacation and just do nothing until August. And my parents are teachers, so they had summer off, too. I had no concept of people actually having to WORK in the summer. And I guess even now part of that mentality is still present.
Sometimes I get really worked up and think I have to do a lot of stuff--and work is important. The things I do with the time I've been given are vitally important. But sometimes I start thinking that if I'm not doing this one certain thing (like writing, going to work, etc.), then I'm wasting my time. And summer is a nice reminder that it's okay to relax. It's a reminder I need annually.
Last summer I decided that I was going to try to experience every season instead of just getting through them. With summer, that meant I was going to spend more time doing relaxing things that were still important. I went on daycations to see friends that live a few hours away. I sat out on my front porch with a glass of iced tea--just to listen to the sounds of the crickets. I put on my spf 100 and went to the pool. I made low calorie root beer floats. In the fall, I made a point of actually going to the state fair (since it's so close and I'd NEVER been before--what was I thinking?). I carved a pumpkin. I made a full Thanksgiving dinner (complete with a 13 lb. turkey) just for myself (even though one other person did show up at the last minute). Winter was harder because I'm one of those notorious WINTER HATERS, but even then I tried. I mean, Christmas is easy. It's my favorite season, my favorite day, my favorite favorite favorite. But after Christmas, then comes that two and a half month period where I hate everything...except for hot chocolate (which I couldn't have because I'm dieting, but oh well). But I did a lot of knitting (because that's a winter activity, yo). I got a new coat which helped things a lot--it's always better to brave the cold when looking adorable and fashionable...and because of all the knitting, I also had a lot of cute scarves to wear. Mainly, I kept telling myself that spring would be all the sweeter after I finally got through winter. Then spring came and my heart rejoiced! Life! Flowers! Butterflies! Warmer (but not too warm) weather! Allergies...well, okay, so spring isn't perfect either, but that's what Claritin is for.
So it's summer again (or so the temperatures outside tell me, even if the calendar still says it's spring). And I'm learning (once again) that it's okay to relax. I've had a lot of time off. Some of it I've wasted. Some of it I've spent LIVING. Even if I'm not working or writing, I can still do something important--like go have lunch with a friend I haven't seen in a while or having a picnic just because I can.
I really think that one of the reasons God invented summer is to remind us to slow down and take time to relax. I get in such a hurry sometimes to do do do, get done get done get done, be somewhere be somewhere be somewhere that I forget it's important to take time to breathe. God did give us work, but He also gave us rest. And sometimes rest means doing something different from the treadmill/hamster wheel routine. Sometimes it just means taking the time to appreciate life.
So whatever else happens this summer, I plan on really living.
Showing posts with label hamster. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hamster. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Sunday, April 17, 2011
SEW Sunday: Getting There
The library called today, leaving me an automated message that the book for which I have been anxiously awaiting (Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins) is now available. The library is also closed on Sunday. Well played, library. Well played.
That's okay, because I decided I wanted to reread The Hunger Games anyway, and I won't be done until tonight. I love rereading a well-written book, which makes me wonder why I hate rereading my own books to edit them. Does that mean they're not well-written, or does it just mean I hate work.
Hopefully, just the latter, but possibly both.
Anyway, I have nothing to report in editing or querying, except I do plan on getting some things together. A few weeks ago I felt expectant, but that it wasn't time to move. The wind was still. Last night, the wind was anything but still as we had tornadoes and such in the area (my prayers are with those who didn't fare the storm as well as I did). The weather is just a metaphor, but right I'm very encouraged right now that it's finally getting time to make a move in the publishing world. For once, I don't have the "this will never work" attitude. Maybe my attitude is finally shifting from the "this will never work" attitude to the "I'm actually dumb enough to think this will work" attitude. While that doesn't sound much better, I'm often amazed at how many people in history were too dumb to know that they were attempting the impossible. So they tried anyway. And they succeeded.
The writing is actually going really well. I've had some new developments in my current WIP, though there are still several details I need to work out. I'm kind of taking a step back and letting the characters do what they want to do, because I've learned (once again) that when I try to meddle too much, I stifle them.
I'm writing this book as a serial novel which I am sharing with a few of my friends (I didn't want to share it with a large number this time--as I did with my second book...it just didn't seem right. And if you're a good friend and I didn't choose you to read it, please don't be offended. There were a lot of factors that went into the selection of readers). There are a lot of issues with this, namely, that if I mess up, there's no way to backtrack. I have to keep moving forward from where I messed up. It's very experimental. It's even a little dangerous because I'm putting my work out there in a very raw form. But I felt it was time to actually do something with this project, and the best motivation was to have actual readers. And they're very gracious, by the way.
Anyway, I am really starting to like this project (it's had a rocky start, and is still moving very slowly towards what I want it to become). Unfortunately, another project is working itself into my mind and I'm wondering if I should be working on it, too. I went out running this morning and couldn't clear my head of this story, the characters, what will happen to them. I wish I could just be the sort of writer who focuses on one project at a time (it would make things so much easier). My head just gets so busy with so many stories that I don't have room for all of them. And then I need to find time to sell the ones I've already written. And then I need time to prepare other stories I've written to be ready to try to sell.
But I can't complain too much. I'm busy, but that's life. The busyness isn't going to stop, so I'm back to where I started: trying to do all these writer things in the midst of the chaos of life. When I stop having the mental image of a hamster on a wheel, hanging on for dear life as it spins out of control...I start to feel a lot better about things.
The question is, how do I get that image out of my head?
That's okay, because I decided I wanted to reread The Hunger Games anyway, and I won't be done until tonight. I love rereading a well-written book, which makes me wonder why I hate rereading my own books to edit them. Does that mean they're not well-written, or does it just mean I hate work.
Hopefully, just the latter, but possibly both.
Anyway, I have nothing to report in editing or querying, except I do plan on getting some things together. A few weeks ago I felt expectant, but that it wasn't time to move. The wind was still. Last night, the wind was anything but still as we had tornadoes and such in the area (my prayers are with those who didn't fare the storm as well as I did). The weather is just a metaphor, but right I'm very encouraged right now that it's finally getting time to make a move in the publishing world. For once, I don't have the "this will never work" attitude. Maybe my attitude is finally shifting from the "this will never work" attitude to the "I'm actually dumb enough to think this will work" attitude. While that doesn't sound much better, I'm often amazed at how many people in history were too dumb to know that they were attempting the impossible. So they tried anyway. And they succeeded.
The writing is actually going really well. I've had some new developments in my current WIP, though there are still several details I need to work out. I'm kind of taking a step back and letting the characters do what they want to do, because I've learned (once again) that when I try to meddle too much, I stifle them.
I'm writing this book as a serial novel which I am sharing with a few of my friends (I didn't want to share it with a large number this time--as I did with my second book...it just didn't seem right. And if you're a good friend and I didn't choose you to read it, please don't be offended. There were a lot of factors that went into the selection of readers). There are a lot of issues with this, namely, that if I mess up, there's no way to backtrack. I have to keep moving forward from where I messed up. It's very experimental. It's even a little dangerous because I'm putting my work out there in a very raw form. But I felt it was time to actually do something with this project, and the best motivation was to have actual readers. And they're very gracious, by the way.
Anyway, I am really starting to like this project (it's had a rocky start, and is still moving very slowly towards what I want it to become). Unfortunately, another project is working itself into my mind and I'm wondering if I should be working on it, too. I went out running this morning and couldn't clear my head of this story, the characters, what will happen to them. I wish I could just be the sort of writer who focuses on one project at a time (it would make things so much easier). My head just gets so busy with so many stories that I don't have room for all of them. And then I need to find time to sell the ones I've already written. And then I need time to prepare other stories I've written to be ready to try to sell.
But I can't complain too much. I'm busy, but that's life. The busyness isn't going to stop, so I'm back to where I started: trying to do all these writer things in the midst of the chaos of life. When I stop having the mental image of a hamster on a wheel, hanging on for dear life as it spins out of control...I start to feel a lot better about things.
The question is, how do I get that image out of my head?
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
The Goal
Goals have always been fuzzy for me. Whether we're talking about soccer or football or basketball or life, I really just haven't been very clear about goals. There aren't goals in baseball. That's probably why baseball is my favorite sport, but I digress...
My sister, like a true first-born child, was always the sort of person who knew what she wanted to do. And then she did it. I, on the other hand, like a true second-born child, waited around for someone to tell me what to do and how to do it. If my sister and I had been more alike, maybe that would have worked out for me. Heck, I'd be a rocket scientist. But my sister and I are not alike at all. Not at all. I love her and am very proud of the woman she is (she's a rocket scientist AND a mommy to the greatest kids ever), but she and I are about as different as two sisters can get.
I feel sorry for my parents who had to deal with me growing up. They had my sister who joined the Marching Band and National Honor Society and held leadership positions in clubs and such. She knew what she wanted to do with her life when she was like 15 or something...at least that's how I remember it. Maybe my memories are fuzzy. I, on the other hand, stayed at home a lot. I read books. I watched tv. I moped a lot. I think my parents would have been excited to learn that I was out causing trouble with friends because 1) it would mean that I was out of the house and 2) it would mean I had friends.
And then, I was the kid who stared at her ceiling every night for YEARS (every night, mind you), and I pleadingly prayed that God would just show me what He wanted me to do with my life. I expected a lightning bolt to come out of heaven, and poof! I'd know God's will for my life.
That's not how it works. At least, not with me. I have a feeling it doesn't work that way for a lot of people.
So I went through adolescence and into young adulthood with this vague sense of purpose, not really knowing what I wanted. I dropped out of college, went back to a different school, got a degree I couldn't use--but I got an education, and that's really why I went in the first place. Went to seminary. Dropped out. Now I'm working...
...and writing...
...when I can find time to write.
And lately, I've been feeling a lot like a hamster on a wheel. I'm running with all my might, but I'm not going anywhere. I'm not sure I know where I want to go, and even if I do know, I'm not sure how to get there. So I just keep running. And I'm wearing myself out without making any progress.
A few years ago, it suddenly hit me that the Holy Lightning Bolt theory just wasn't gonna happen. And that's okay. God shows us what He wants from us in the Bible--if we're doing the little things we should be doing (including the hard things like loving our enemies, trusting and obeying), then the rest is going to fall into place. And if there's something that God's given us a passion to do, then we should do it with all our mights and trust God to show us if that's not what He wants. And I have a passion and a talent for writing. I've been given these gifts for a reason. It's time to use them.
For the first time in my life, I have a clear goal. I want to be a published writer. I want God to use me and my writing to do something...I don't know what. I just know I want to be a published writer. So I'm trying to work towards that, but I still feel like that hamster. I'm still running on that wheel trying to work my three jobs, carrying my responsibilities, keeping up with my diet and exercise plan, trying to stay in God's Word as much as possible...
When exactly do I have time to write? When exactly do I have time to figure out the query letters and synopses and sample chapters?
Last night, I had a little bit of an anxiety attack. It wasn't a full-blown one. I've never had one of those where I felt like I was having a heart attack or dying. It was a little one--where I couldn't catch my breath and couldn't calm down and started thinking I was literally going crazy and should ust shut myself up in a loony bin so I wouldn't be an annoyance to anyone else. I've had those small attacks before, but it's been years...
Well, I finally calmed down and immediately went to bed. This morning I went back and read the passage we studied in Bible Study on Sunday morning:
Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 3:12-14)
(skip a bit, Brother Maynard)
For, as I have often told you before and now tell you again even with tears, many live as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their destiny is destruction, their god is their stomach, and their glory is in their shame. Their mind is set on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body. (Philippians 3:18-21)
Sometimes, I get so close to being right that I think I'm right, but sometimes being close to being right isn't close enough. And I missed something big. I'm not sure if it's the first time I've "gotten" this, or if it's just something of which I desperately needed to be reminded.
What is my goal? My ultimate goal? Is it to find the literary agent of my dreams who thinks all my books are wonderful ideas that he/she is dying to represent? Is it to sign a book contract with a major publisher who wants to send me a large book advance? Is it to write a book that will remain on the NY Times Best Seller list for several weeks in a row? Is it to have a following greater or equal to Twilight or Harry Potter? Is it to have my books made into a wildly popular film series? Is it to win a Newbery Medal? Is it to make sure that people three hundred years from now remember the name A. R. Campbell with fondness and awe?
Those are great goals. I'll admit my biggest writing goal right now is to just find an agent and get something published. But even that isn't my ultimate goal. My ultimate goal has nothing to do with writing, and I almost missed that because I wasn't thinking along the right lines.
My goal is to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. Everything else pales in comparison to that goal. There are times when I am tempted to think that the things down here are of ultimate importance. In these times, I start thinking my destiny is something temporary--doomed to eventual destruction. I start feeding the god of my stomach--of what I think I want or need at the moment. I start thinking my glory is in something I can do, but when you really think about it, I haven't done a lot of which I should be proud.
It's hard to think along these lines, but when I'm in heaven, all the great works of C. S. Lewis and Madeleine L'Engle are going to be revealed for what they are: dirty rags. J. S. Bach's amazing music: worthlessness. Mother Teresa's generosity: rubbish. Compared to the glory that is in Christ Jesus, there's nothing we can do that amounts to anything.
My goal, my ultimate goal, is not to write something brilliant and have it published for the world to see. My ultimate goal is to lose my life so that I can be found in Jesus. It is He that makes us glorious in eternity--and I think right down here, as well. When we're in Him, that's when the great composer's music becomes beautiful. That's when the acts of love and kindness become notable. That's when the poets words become poetry, the singer's notes become song.
And that's when the scared little girl can take up her pen and slay Dragons.
Not that I've attained this.
I'm...pressing on towards the goal...standing firm and rejoicing in the Lord...striving to be anxious for nothing...praying with supplication and thanksgiving in all circumstances...letting God's peace guard my heart and mind in Christ Jesus...thinking about things which are true and noble, right and pure, lovely and admirable, excellent and praiseworthy...knowing that I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength...trusting that He will supply all my needs according to His glorious riches...
Soli Deo Gloria.
My sister, like a true first-born child, was always the sort of person who knew what she wanted to do. And then she did it. I, on the other hand, like a true second-born child, waited around for someone to tell me what to do and how to do it. If my sister and I had been more alike, maybe that would have worked out for me. Heck, I'd be a rocket scientist. But my sister and I are not alike at all. Not at all. I love her and am very proud of the woman she is (she's a rocket scientist AND a mommy to the greatest kids ever), but she and I are about as different as two sisters can get.
I feel sorry for my parents who had to deal with me growing up. They had my sister who joined the Marching Band and National Honor Society and held leadership positions in clubs and such. She knew what she wanted to do with her life when she was like 15 or something...at least that's how I remember it. Maybe my memories are fuzzy. I, on the other hand, stayed at home a lot. I read books. I watched tv. I moped a lot. I think my parents would have been excited to learn that I was out causing trouble with friends because 1) it would mean that I was out of the house and 2) it would mean I had friends.
And then, I was the kid who stared at her ceiling every night for YEARS (every night, mind you), and I pleadingly prayed that God would just show me what He wanted me to do with my life. I expected a lightning bolt to come out of heaven, and poof! I'd know God's will for my life.
That's not how it works. At least, not with me. I have a feeling it doesn't work that way for a lot of people.
So I went through adolescence and into young adulthood with this vague sense of purpose, not really knowing what I wanted. I dropped out of college, went back to a different school, got a degree I couldn't use--but I got an education, and that's really why I went in the first place. Went to seminary. Dropped out. Now I'm working...
...and writing...
...when I can find time to write.
And lately, I've been feeling a lot like a hamster on a wheel. I'm running with all my might, but I'm not going anywhere. I'm not sure I know where I want to go, and even if I do know, I'm not sure how to get there. So I just keep running. And I'm wearing myself out without making any progress.
A few years ago, it suddenly hit me that the Holy Lightning Bolt theory just wasn't gonna happen. And that's okay. God shows us what He wants from us in the Bible--if we're doing the little things we should be doing (including the hard things like loving our enemies, trusting and obeying), then the rest is going to fall into place. And if there's something that God's given us a passion to do, then we should do it with all our mights and trust God to show us if that's not what He wants. And I have a passion and a talent for writing. I've been given these gifts for a reason. It's time to use them.
For the first time in my life, I have a clear goal. I want to be a published writer. I want God to use me and my writing to do something...I don't know what. I just know I want to be a published writer. So I'm trying to work towards that, but I still feel like that hamster. I'm still running on that wheel trying to work my three jobs, carrying my responsibilities, keeping up with my diet and exercise plan, trying to stay in God's Word as much as possible...
When exactly do I have time to write? When exactly do I have time to figure out the query letters and synopses and sample chapters?
Last night, I had a little bit of an anxiety attack. It wasn't a full-blown one. I've never had one of those where I felt like I was having a heart attack or dying. It was a little one--where I couldn't catch my breath and couldn't calm down and started thinking I was literally going crazy and should ust shut myself up in a loony bin so I wouldn't be an annoyance to anyone else. I've had those small attacks before, but it's been years...
Well, I finally calmed down and immediately went to bed. This morning I went back and read the passage we studied in Bible Study on Sunday morning:
Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 3:12-14)
(skip a bit, Brother Maynard)
For, as I have often told you before and now tell you again even with tears, many live as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their destiny is destruction, their god is their stomach, and their glory is in their shame. Their mind is set on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body. (Philippians 3:18-21)
Sometimes, I get so close to being right that I think I'm right, but sometimes being close to being right isn't close enough. And I missed something big. I'm not sure if it's the first time I've "gotten" this, or if it's just something of which I desperately needed to be reminded.
What is my goal? My ultimate goal? Is it to find the literary agent of my dreams who thinks all my books are wonderful ideas that he/she is dying to represent? Is it to sign a book contract with a major publisher who wants to send me a large book advance? Is it to write a book that will remain on the NY Times Best Seller list for several weeks in a row? Is it to have a following greater or equal to Twilight or Harry Potter? Is it to have my books made into a wildly popular film series? Is it to win a Newbery Medal? Is it to make sure that people three hundred years from now remember the name A. R. Campbell with fondness and awe?
Those are great goals. I'll admit my biggest writing goal right now is to just find an agent and get something published. But even that isn't my ultimate goal. My ultimate goal has nothing to do with writing, and I almost missed that because I wasn't thinking along the right lines.
My goal is to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. Everything else pales in comparison to that goal. There are times when I am tempted to think that the things down here are of ultimate importance. In these times, I start thinking my destiny is something temporary--doomed to eventual destruction. I start feeding the god of my stomach--of what I think I want or need at the moment. I start thinking my glory is in something I can do, but when you really think about it, I haven't done a lot of which I should be proud.
It's hard to think along these lines, but when I'm in heaven, all the great works of C. S. Lewis and Madeleine L'Engle are going to be revealed for what they are: dirty rags. J. S. Bach's amazing music: worthlessness. Mother Teresa's generosity: rubbish. Compared to the glory that is in Christ Jesus, there's nothing we can do that amounts to anything.
My goal, my ultimate goal, is not to write something brilliant and have it published for the world to see. My ultimate goal is to lose my life so that I can be found in Jesus. It is He that makes us glorious in eternity--and I think right down here, as well. When we're in Him, that's when the great composer's music becomes beautiful. That's when the acts of love and kindness become notable. That's when the poets words become poetry, the singer's notes become song.
And that's when the scared little girl can take up her pen and slay Dragons.
Not that I've attained this.
I'm...pressing on towards the goal...standing firm and rejoicing in the Lord...striving to be anxious for nothing...praying with supplication and thanksgiving in all circumstances...letting God's peace guard my heart and mind in Christ Jesus...thinking about things which are true and noble, right and pure, lovely and admirable, excellent and praiseworthy...knowing that I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength...trusting that He will supply all my needs according to His glorious riches...
Soli Deo Gloria.
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