Timely short prayer write some 50 something years ago, or more.
I’m gathering up the energies to write something in long form. Several ideas brewing but not sure of my next choice. For now, the silence.
Prayer of Thomas Merton
I beg you to keep me in this silence so that I may learn from it
the word of your peace
and the word of your mercy
and the word of your gentleness to the world:
and that through me perhaps your word of peace
may make itself heard
where it has not been possible for anyone to hear it for a long time.
The nutshell is this:
I wanted to write a story that captured my story.
Recently, I was intrigued by the phenomenon of “The 6 Word Memoir” idea. I like that idea that you can share a lot about your self quickly.
It’s poetry, really. (But that word scares -some-people.)
I’ve also felt nudged to write a memoir myself. But on which part of my life? There’s a lot of drama!
And really, I don’t have the fortitude to cover the seriously painful parts of my life. It wrecks me. I see why people just hire editors for that sort of thing. But, those are the parts that offer the best memoir material.
Also, any successful memoir is written by a famous or infamous person that has a following of some sort. The other kind of written for family member to read. The only reason I want to create one, or a few (it’s not an autobiography I’m interested in, mind you) is because have so many stories that beg me to tell them. To birth them into the world. But, it’s a lot like yelling into the void or dancing alone in a hall of mirrors.
And then the idea hit me to write a short story that was a kind of universal memoir.
In the same spirit as The Little Prince and Where the Wild Things Are I started writing something and in about a day and a half it was done. It was gestating for a long while. Years. (And of course, I just mean the first draft was done.) But, in truth, the story came out in nearly one whole piece. That never really happens.
So, now, I’m in the final stages with the layout. Gorgeous photos are in place. Illustrations are forthcoming. It’s a passion project and those sort of things have to be done independently–not for the publishing industry Machine.
Since an ebook can be done so easily, that bit should be available semi-soon and I’ll list it for free or a low cost. But, the nature of this book is not good for that format. It’s just NOT the sort of book. It won’t “work” 100% if it’s only digitally available. It should be material.
It should be held and kept by the bed table. Read to children who turn its pages and hear the sounds of the paper, and feel the texture on their little fingers. It should hold the occasional tear puddle like some of my Narnia books, and my Little Prince book have. It should be beautiful and lasting and not just a click away.
And for adults it promises to have the same magic of the classic stories read to them once in the twilight nights of warm summers when the lighting bugs danced, and everything was possible.
So, I’m going to raise money and self-publish with art book quality as a short run. You can join me in this leg of the journey.
Here is the cover. (Stop by within a week and see another spread.)
We don’t just have upon us a crisis of faith, but also a crisis of faithfulness.
We’ve been reviewing Francis Chan’s book Crazy Love. I encourage everyone to read it. It’ll do you good. Also, it makes an interesting and thought-provoking small group study, or Sunday School class.
"Crazy Love" by Francis Chan
This last lesson was on Risk and Faith. Chan asked everyone to do something in their regular life that requires faith. He asked that we abandon the typical planning we do to minimize our risk. We should do something others could think of as silly, and allow ourselves to live and act in a more vulnerable way. We shouldn’t rely in our stuff to satisfy us. We should live bigger lives.
Along the same lines, Rolf Potts leads this sort of recommended simpler type of lifestyle. He calls it vagabonding. (I found out about Rolf through the Tim Ferriss site. Thank you, Tim.)For Potts, a travel writer, his style is not just a method of travel, but a way of life. It’s unlike the American way of life, because it does not trust in stuff.
I’ve wondered if it’s the case that in America we seem to act like “in god we trust” refers to the money itself, or the things we can buy with it.
We do a lot to feel safe. We buy insurance to minimize various kind of threats. We buy things we feel sure will help us, or at least soothe us. What is the lasting consequence of this approach? A false sense of control? Feathering our pillow of self-sufficiency? Other things…
Rolf Potts takes the theme of traveling light to a whole new level, as he now begins hisNo Baggage Challenge: Traveling to 12 countries in 6 weeks—With NO baggage (not even a man purse/satchel). [His blog details his travels, and his packing techniques are also quite useful.]
The journey of faith is the same way. When we seek out the comfortable, and we travel heavy, by preparing (mentally or physically) for every potential event, challenge, or threat–something important gets left behind. Perspective for one thing. But what else?
In the life of faith, “taking nothing for the journey” means that one must trust in God’s provision (and hisway of providing), trust others, and build relationships. It’s not about what we’ve packed (prepared) for, it’s about the trip itself. It’s about being brave, and opening up to others, and the experience of not being weighted down (both literally and figuratively) by our presuppositions: What we think the trip should look like, and feel like.
You don’t like bumps, you say? Sorry, it’s bumpy. You just might have been insulating yourself. For some perspective… Think: padded cell.
The spiritual journey (journey of faith) is undertaken so optimal preparedness is removed as an option: It’s a method of living, not to be comfortable, but to survive, live, and eventually thrive, where you are, as you are. You come as you are. When the going gets tough–and it will–you stay. [The only thing you “plan on” is love and loyalty.] You work it out. You don’t let yourself have but that choice. You live has though you don’t have a chance/option to flee–like we are too often ready to do. We trust others, and God with abandon, despite the risks, or pain that may/will come.
Why? Because it is the surest way to growth, more rewarding experiences, and a sense of being in a Story bigger than yourself and your self interests. In spending ourselves, we gain our lives.
When we take a risk to help or love (without examining the our potential losses, and assessing all the personal risks) we live by and in faith, not by sight.
[Now, realize, I’m not talking about a life of folly, or veritable reckless behavior. I’m talking about being okay with discomfort, and sacrificing the known and manageable, for something greater at stake.]
What could that look like for you? Please-Leave your ideas.
Maybe giving away the extra car to someone who needs it? Opening up your home for someone else to live in? Inviting a family to your home for supper once a week? Using a paycheck to buy someone groceries?
What kind of faith will you live by?
In this sense, a little pain goes a long way. Soon, our sights move away from ourselves in pursing selfless faithfulness.
