“But it’s like I said before, about writers not really wanting to write. We have to force ourselves to create these scenes. We have to get up off the couch and turn the television off, we have to blow up the inner-tubes and head to the river. We have to write the poem and deliver it in person. We have to pull the car off the road and hike to the top of the hill. We have to put on our suits, we have to dance at weddings. We have to make altars”- p 214.

The above quote is about as preachy as Donald Miller gets in his book. The rest of the book is a much more subtle argument for not wasting your life. He makes you feel like you’re learning about him and his struggle with living an uninteresting life, but you’re really learning about your own life and feeling bad that even his uninteresting life is more interesting than yours. I won’t write a synopsis of the book, but rather a synopsis of the feelings I have now that I’ve finished the book.

The back story of the entire book is that Miller was asked to help write the screenplay for a movie about his life. Following the success of “Blue like Jazz” some filmmakers wanted to make his life into an inspirational movie with the same power and impact as his book. However, his actual life and the stories in “Blue Like Jazz” weren’t interesting enough for a movie plot, so he basically had to re-write his life and make up stories and events that were far more dramatic and compelling than what he’d actually lived. This thought was frightening for him. He realized he was living a really terrible story and he spends the second half of the book telling you how he started to change his story and what he learned about what it means to live an epic story, worthy of a screenplay. As he’s processing his thoughts, you can’t help but use his writing as a mirror. I guess that’s why people like him so much. He’s preaching at you, but you don’t really realize it. You feel guilty, but not the same kind of guilt that evangelical preachers throw at you.

I certainly felt very guilty. I felt ashamed. My “story” is pretty pitiful. I try not to live a “bad” story full of sinning and evil, but I definitely live a boring story. Everything I do is so formulaic, so planned, so uninspired, so half-hearted. I am not conquering life, life is conquering me. I have no excuse for it. The Holy Spirit lives inside of me wanting to write a better story trying to lead me to a purposeful existence, but I’m resistant. My heart is sold out to a million other things.

“I think this is when most people give up on their stories. They come out of college wanting to change the world, wanting to get married, wanting to have kids and change the way people buy office supplies. But they get into the middle and discover it was harder than they thought. They can’t see the distant shores anymore, and they wonder if their paddling is moving them forward. None of the trees behind them are getting smaller and none of the trees ahead of them are getting bigger. They take it out on their spouses, and they go looking for an easier story” p 179.

I have chosen an easier story. When I left college, I felt like I was embarking on an epic journey. I always dreamed of a life void of formula and void of “going through the motions”. Post-college life would be thrilling and spontaneous. The possibilities were endless; I was bound by nothing and no one. It was just going to be me and Jesus. He would lead me every day and my life totally surrendered to Him for the service of others and the spread of the Gospel. Finally, I was free to really live! My life was no longer enslaved to homework, deadlines, and writing care plans. Almost 2 years later, I have very little to show for it. The only epic part of my life is the fact that my church is called “Epikos”, greek for “epic”. I have chosen to follow the patterns of the world, succumb to temptations, and to sit on the couch. I don’t think my life would have been better lived had I lived somewhere else. I think this would have happened to me no matter where I was, who I was with, or whatever job I was working. I think it’s human nature to want to live boring, menial stories. We wouldn’t idolize celebrities and stand awestruck by athletes, if it wasn’t our nature. They’re doing something bigger, better, and more profound than we are. If it wasn’t our nature to be boring and uninteresting, we wouldn’t get so excited when we see another human living out an epic story. We wouldn’t watch movies or read fiction because our real life stories would be fascinating and captivating enough. It’s just way more comfortable to sit on the couch. It’s easier to ignore the prompts of the Holy Spirit and listen to the TV instead. It’s much, much easier to sleep in and say “no” when asked to do something that would require too much effort or setting the alarm for 6:00am. It’s expensive to travel. Asking him out on a date would be putting myself out there too much. Striking up conversations with strangers makes me feel too vulnerable. The gym is just too far. Another job would be so impractical. Calling and saying sorry to an old friend I’ve wronged would hurt too much. Giving my entire Saturday to a homeless shelter is inconvenient. Telling my alcoholic patient that Jesus loves him and wants to save him from his terrible life is too awkward. It’s our nature to live not just boring, but really bad stories too. We disobey, we lie, we cheat, we sin constantly. Some people have decided that it’s easier or necessary to live a really bad story and that’s why there are murders, rapes, child molesters, and alcoholism. Some people have no choice in how their story goes and some people are blessed with too much control of their story and they screw it up miserably. That’s me. I’m probably worse off than the alcoholic or the murders. I claim to follow Christ and I have the Holy Spirit, the author and perfecter of stories, living in my heart… and I have little to show for it. How can I convince anyone that Jesus writes better stories when I haven’t let Him write a better story with my own life? My story looks an awful lot like the rest of the world’s story. It needs to change. I want Jesus to write me a better story. He’s been offering it to me every day, but I keep rescheduling. I keep putting it off. I keep sitting on the couch.

Changing jobs didn’t work out and volunteering every night of the week won’t save my sinking ship. I have to let Jesus do all the work of changing my heart. I can’t fill my life with busyness and hope it feels like a better story. The better story has to come from the Source of ultimate stories. The better story has to be lived with the One who lived the most important story this world has ever heard. I need to start listening. I have to let Him lead me. I need to surrender my plans, my laziness, my TV, my job, and my money to his Lordship and let him do the writing.

Miller talks a lot about what makes a good story. He attended a conference that was solely dedicated to teaching screenwriters how to write a better story. If you have all the necessary components he describes in his books and his lectures, you will have an amazing story. Robert McKee is the guy who led the seminar. This is Miller writing: “Robert McKee put down his coffee cup and leaned onto the podium. He put his hands on his forehead and wiped back his gray hair. He said ‘You have to go there. You have to take your character to the place where he just can’t take it anymore’ He looked at us with a tenderness we hadn’t seen in him before. ‘You’ve been there, haven’t you? You’ve been out on the ledge. The marriage is over now; the dream is over now. Nothing good can come from this.’ He got louder. ‘Writing a good story isn’t about making your peaceful fantasies come true. The whole point of the story is the character arc. You didn’t think joy could change a person, did you? Joy is what you feel when the conflict is over. But it’s conflict that changes a person.’ His voice was like thunder now ‘You put your characters through hell. You put them through hell. That’s the only way we change” p 180.

When he says “hell” he’s not talking about a place for eternally damned souls. He’s talking about a moment, a feeling, a state of being that feels absolutely terrible and unbearable. We go through “hellish” things all the time and that’s what changes us and writes a better story. That last mile of my last triathlon was hell. Missing my great-grandmother’s lonely death by 10 minutes was hell. Telling the truth is hell. Hearing the truth is a worse hell. Giving money I want for myself to the church instead, is hell. Not gossiping at work is hell. Preaching the Gospel to deaf ears is hell. I know there are a lot worse things worthy of the word “hell”. But it doesn’t really matter what kind of “hell” you’re going through. You have to put yourself through “hell” to get better. You have to bear what seems like absolutely terrible and unbearable in order to change. I have to sign up for another triathlon. I have to forgive. I have to give generously. I have to ask him out. I have to turn off the TV. I have to speak boldly. I have to stop gossiping. I have to dance when I feel like dancing. I have to tell the truth. I have to travel. I have to defend the weak and serve the poor. I have to read my Bible every day. I need to learn to listen to the Spirit prompting me to do all these things. I have to stop doing these things on my own strength when I think the timing is right. I need to surrender and let Jesus put me through little hells to make me better. He endured the greatest Hell so I could have the freedom and privilege to go through little hells and actually be better and live eternally in peace and love with Him. He endured the greatest Hell so he could be the Author of a Story where he’s the main character and the moral of the story is always that he is more glorious, more precious and more beautiful than any other story in the world and whatever “hell” we’re going through. I get to be a part of that Story. I need to start living like an active player and not a passive audience member.

“It’s like this with every crossing, and with nearly every story too. You paddle until you no longer believe you can go any father. And then suddenly, well after you thought it would happen, the other shore starts to grow and it grows fast. The trees get taller and you can make out the crags in the cliffs, and then the shore reaches out to you, to welcome you home, almost pulling your boat onto the sand” p 182.

If I could, I would develop a blog called “PeopleWatcher”. It would be like a site like AwkwardFamilyPhotos or Failblog or Overheardin where you’d submit a photo and or a great description of something you just saw while people watching. I make a habit of sitting and reading at a coffee shop at least once a week and I feel I have no venue to share the crazy weird outfits and behaviors I observe while I’m there.

Maybe something like this exists already.. but I don’t know about it.

So this counts as my post for last week because I started it last week (sort of).

I am just about finished with Donald Miller’s “A Million Miles in a Thousand Years”. A review of the book is to come. Well actually, I won’t have a whole ton to say about the book itself, but I’ll have a lot to say about how the book has changed my way of thinking about my life.

Next in line is Love & Respect by Emerson Eggerichs. I’m not really the target audience for the book, but I think I may learn something that may be helpful when/if I become the target audience someday. I’ve heard good things about it. I’m always a little skeptical of Christian self-help, but I will give it a chance.

Any other recommendations for good reads? I prefer non-fiction, but I am always looking for a good fiction to try. I will not read Twilight, sorry.

“Fun. Fun. Fun. Sun. Sun. Sun”.. Not just the theme song to the Milwaukee Boat Show.. It was the theme of our time in Longboat Key, FL.

Some of my best shots of the week. See previous post for explanation why the photos are beginner-esque.

A totally spoiled bird that spent the whole day sitting on balconies waiting to be fed. He got close enough for me to get all paparazzi with him.

When we went to the Sarasota Farmers Market our goal was to find one dog in a stroller. Mission Accomplished. We were pretty certain the whole festival was not for humans at all. There were 2 dogs for every human there.

We ate out a lot. Despite what the cup says, the name of this place is actually “Coconut Joe’s”

This is where we stayed. Can’t you imagine why it was hard to leave?

It was right on the Gulf of Mexico.

We bought obnoxiously bright Sarasota tee-shirts and loved every second of it

We had so much fun joking and laughing. This was a “sea shell” I found on the beach. It’s a salt shaker that I found on the shore. I thought it looked a lot like a crazy new shell no one has ever discovered before.

I had a blast! The week went by so quick, but it was filled with lots and lots of great memories. Sorry there aren’t more photos to share.

I have resolved to resurrect old passions this year. A few years ago I got really excited about photography and even bought myself a fancy camera. I was mediocre at best and didn’t experience the artistic release I had hoped to feel. I always felt frustrated and over-critical of my work. During 2009, two of my very talented friends embarked on a 365 project that they displayed on their flickr sites [Ashley] [Catie]. They have done some incredible work and I am insanely jealous of them. They’re still in love with photography and I am not. They are growing and flourishing in their relationship with photography every day. Me and my camera are distant and uncomfortable. I’ll take him with me sometimes, but most of the time I’m embarrassed to be seen with him. He frustrates me and I don’t feel worthy to be with him. It’s all very complicated and emotional.

I’ve decided to try to love photography again. I need to get past my insecurities and hesitations and just start shooting again. I don’t need to put it on display or try to become a part of the Flickr scene. I need to do it for me. I’m leaving for Florida soon and I hope to embark on my a new relationship with photography during the trip. Ya know, one last chance to make it work.

I have used my camera a little bit, though. The photo below is not “cool” or “artsy” whatsoever. I’m not proud of it and it’s certainly not my best. However, I am very proud of the person in the photo and I wanted to make sure I did my part to promote her cause.

My sister is trying to bring back the babushka. I think it’s a brilliant idea. Let’s get the word out about how cool the babushka is! Here she is posing as an old world immigrant visiting Chicago. Wearing a babushka, of course.