It was about 3:30 am, and the dream showed me exactly what was supposed to happen in the novel I’m working on. The map for the whole book floated in the air just above my brain. I smiled (or maybe I just dreamt I did), and reached out to grab that idea.

And as soon as I did, it was gone.

Photo credit: Martin Cathrae via cc

Writers debate the topic of ideas a lot. Mostly to avoid writing, I think. But I’ve seen two pretty distinct camps:

Ideas as mystery gifts

Some ideas are like fog. They’re everywhere, but the moment we try to snatch them up and put form to them, they dissolve as if they were never there at all.

We assign a certain magic to ideas. We expect them to behave—to arrive fully formed.

Whether it’s a title and outline for the perfect blog post or the fully formed set of beautifully interwoven story lines for a novel, we often expect The Muse to deliver it in shiny wrapping paper and a big red bow.

And at the same time, we fear she’ll never bring us another one.

Ideas as precious gems

Some of us think of ideas as diamonds and emeralds and sapphires. We see every idea as the most amazing one ever, and we think everything is an idea worthy of a story.

We believe them to be precious and rare. We invest our energy in protecting them and creating the perfect showcase for them.

But sometimes an idea is cubic zirconia. Fool’s gold. Attractive without depth or truth.

Chasing those ideas is a great challenge and helps us grow, but it takes a lot of practice and no small amount of confidence to pull this off. A weak idea really takes a lot of work and imagination to pull up out of the landfill.

The new paradigm: Curating Ideas

The reality is somewhere in the middle: ideas are abundant, but it takes some work to find the good ones.

So I look around. A lot. And I write. A lot.

For blog and non-fiction content, I mine my Facebook comments and sent emails. I look at questions people have asked and I’ve answered. Questions like “How do you know what to write about?”

Fiction ideas are even more fun. I watch people at the grocery story and airports and restaurants and sporting events. I imagine why they’re there. What they did before they arrived. What they’ll be doing later.

I eavesdrop (such as the extraordinarily creepy conversation about 50 Shades of Gray between two strangers of opposite gender on a flight from Detroit to Philadelphia. Awkward much?)

I see situations and I think “what would one individual in that situation do? What would a totally different person do? What would happen if they ran into each other?”

Ideas are everywhere, and you can practice and hone your ability to set the special ones apart. If you’re constantly watching the world and keeping track of your ideas, you’ll never run out.

But then what? What do you do when your next short story shows up while you’re standing in front of the cheese display at Walmart?

Get practical: Capture those bad-boys.

Well-disciplined writers have a capture system where they can throw thoughts and observations whenever they appear.

I am not well-disciplined.

In fairness, I know the tools. I actually have several ways of doing this, but I absolutely suck at using any of them regularly.

But even through more ideas slip through my fingers than make it into the net, I still have a file with 49 different new blog post titles/ideas. I have over 70,000 words of random freewrites and quotes and observations and thoughts.

So don’t feel like you have to do it perfectly. Don’t give up because you lose a few. But find a place to put them. And start using it.

And don’t worry about how to keep them all organized. Despite my passion for order, my ideas are all in a big tangled pile like a skein of yarn after a kitten has had his way with it. But they’re there. I can skim through it all and sort things out into categories and buckets. Or I can just grab one and start working on it.

Trust in the future

Ideas are not limited. And when you treat them as if they are, you create a box for your imagination and slap a giant padlock on it. Stop doing that.

If you don’t know what to write about, just write. Write about what you see around you. Describe the unique grain in the wood on a cabinet door or the fraying threads on the upholstery of the ottoman your feet are on right now, and how you wish you had cut the fabric just a little bigger when you made the coverings. Then hold onto those things.

Because one day, you’ll be writing a character who needs to demonstrate a particular sense of dissatisfaction with herself, or one who loves woodworking more than his wife. And you’ll know what to write about.

How do you keep track of your ideas? Share your process in the comments…

Have you ever done that? Decided it was time to get fit (or write a book, or declutter, or, or, or…)? I hope it worked out better for you than it did for me.

Photo credit: Fe Ilya via cc

Since it was my birthday and all, I meandered down to the fancy running store. The one where employees all run at least 9 miles a day. Outside. In the snow.

This guy took video of me on the treadmill and then drew lines on the iPad as he played it back. (All I noticed was my chicken-ankles.) He fitted me with fancy shoes and I slapped down my debit card, paying three times as much as I’d ever paid for shoes in my life. But they were an investment in my health and well-being. Right?

For the first week, I wore those shoes. I made a schedule and I put them on and I got up on the treadmill (after clearing off the other dusty exercise equipment and off-season clothes waiting to be donated).

I ran. Well, I’ll be honest. I walked. And then when my hips and knees started hurting, I walked slower.

And then I didn’t walk anymore.

So what gives?

This is a pattern for me. I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in this.

Starting is great. Excitement is rocket-fuel for a new goal. But at some point, the Red Bull wears off and things get harder. We hit the wall. We run out of ideas. We get “writer’s block.”

At this point, a whole lot of people give up. They stall. I stall. My fancy shoes perch at the base of the treadmill and stare at me, all judgy and convicting.

I know I’m not devoid of self-discipline. I work from home and don’t turn on Netflix during the day. I broke my addiction to potato chips (mostly). I turned myself into a morning person, for heaven’s sake.

So why is it so hard to to stick with run—er, walking?

It doesn’t matter enough

Maybe this sounds harsh. I mean, heart disease runs in my family. Those shoes could be a life and death thing for me. Keeping my heart healthy should matter to me more than pretty much anything else.

But clearly it doesn’t.

When I look at what needs to be done each day, there’s always something a little more urgent. Or something a little more important.

Writing. Work. Household chores. Errands. Down-time.

When reality hits, I prioritize all these things over my health. Not in concept, but in practice. Realizing that helps me to begin to adjust my priorities.

I bet your actions show some disconnects in your priorities, too. Be honest with yourself and make adjustments.

You haven’t found a team

I like my alone time. (Mark might say I like it a little too much). But too much of it can be dangerous for your goals.

When you’re alone, it’s easy to say “I’ll do that tomorrow.” (At least it is for me) But—news flash—procrastination is bad. If you have people around you cheering you on and checking in with you, it’s a whole lot harder to put things off.

I’m part of an amazing group of writers who’ve committed themselves to writing 500 words a day, every day.

Some of those writers have been tracking for over a year without missing a single day. Hundreds of thousands of words, a little bit at a time.

On days when I don’t feel like writing, I imagine having to post “Yeah, I watched three episodes of Sherlock instead of writing” to the group. And then I write.

A team of encouragers makes all the difference. Surround yourself with them.

You need the right tools

I like instant gratification. We all do, if we’re being honest.

So when I take on a big goal (I wanna be a writer, I want to run a half-marathon, etc), writing 500 words or walking 30 minutes doesn’t seem like much. In fact, it can be a little demoralizing.

With writing I figured out a better way to measure (and see) progress. For my first 31-day writing challenge, I created a spreadsheet that adds up my daily word count and presents a cool graph showing my overall total.

(Click here to get the template)

Watching that line climb? Priceless.

I need to do the same with exercise. Maybe you do, too?  (FYI: the template will work for pretty much anything you want to measure)

What matters most?

There’s a theme here. I’ve tried a lot of things, and I see a common thread among the things I’ve stayed with.

Perseverence.

Because, if we’re being real, everything gets hard. Every change we want to make in our lives comes with a cost. And when we’re excited it feels worth it, but there comes a time when we get tired.

The people who push through aren’t always the best at what they’re doing. Instead, they’re simply the ones who stuck with it.

A while back, I actually wrote a short eBook about sticking with it when things get hard.

Maybe I need to go back and read it myself. From the treadmill.

What are you tempted to quit? Leave a comment…

Am I wrong? Show me a writer who is totally confident all the time. Can you find one who doesn’t worry that her next book will flop or who cheers when he gets a one-star review? I can’t.

Photo credit: photosteve101 via cc

Much as we’d like to think we’re unique, we’re not. Most of us stress out and obsess about the same things.

So writers (and you who love us and put up with our special brand of crazy, and you who don’t write, but still have that niggling feeling that something else is out there), here are a few things I absolve you of responsibility for.

Am I good enough?

Of course not. No one is ever “good enough.”

Now, before you run away and hide in a corner under a blanket and cry (or is that just me?), hear me out.

If we were actually good enough, then there’d be nowhere to go. We’d stop learning and growing.

We’d never feel that awesome achievement of trying something we aren’t really sure we can pull off and then knocking it out of the park.

So no, you’re not good enough. But you are good enough to get started.

What if I fail?

What if you don’t? Unless you’re trying to write a comprehensive guide about how to perform brain surgery, your failure probably isn’t going to result in someone’s death.

This is my favorite thing about writing. Words have power, but they’re also just words. What other career can you choose where you can just think up a new name and start over if you fail so epically that you can’t continue on?

Does that mean we’ll fail sometimes? Of course it does. Nothing worth doing is easy. See Point Number One.

I don’t know enough.

Meh. Neither do I.

For a lot of writers, technology is a big hangup. I used to be a geek, so I probably know a little more than the average bear. But not that much.

I don’t understand what makes it all work or how to fix it. When something goes wrong, I find smart people to help me. I turn to the community of writers I hang out with to help me.

This goes for anything, really.

Whatever you want to do, you’re not in it alone. Someone else knows what you need and is willing to share it. Even if that someone is just Google.

I don’t have time.

(If you’re not a writer, replace “write” in this section with “exercise” or “study to be a brain surgeon” or “brew beer.” Except please don’t brew beer while you’re on the toilet.)

It sounds crazy, but people with full-time jobs and a house full of kids in every activity possible still find time to write three novels a year.

Do you have time to play Candy Crush or Clash of Clans or whatever game is the thing now? Then quit bitching and write.

Do you wait forever in lines? Do you read trashy romance novels at lunch? I won’t judge your reading habits…but maybe instead, you could use some of that time to read an article or do a 15-minute writing exercise.

Do you sleep? Get up 30 minutes earlier and write 500 words. Every. Day. You’ll have a novel drafted in three months.

Do you have time to go to the bathroom? Write on your phone while you sit on the toilet. (I’m not kidding.)

Whatever it is you want to get better at, you do not need hours of uninterrupted time sitting in a cabin by the lake to do it. You just need to do a little bit every day.

So let’s do this!

OK, I realize all this stuff is easier said than done. In fact, I still struggle with a lot of these, too.

But at some point or other in the last three years, I’ve managed to pull these things off for long enough that I know they work.

You can make changes. Whether it’s to write or cut back some of life’s chaos or eat better…you can do it.

What do you struggle with or stress about? Share in the comments…

A few of the quotable moments:

“Between Mark and God…well, not that they’re really the same, but…well…uh…”

“You find your limit by reaching beyond it, and, well, dropping some balls.”

“You matter. Take care of yourself.” (anyone who knows my affinity for the Burger King Big Fish sandwich with added cheese will understand why this is funny.)

“I found out I’m a morning person pretty much by accident.”

But Tammy and I got serious about encouraging people, too:

“When you’re in motion, you attract opportunities and see new paths.”

“Set yourself aside and serve. Build friendships, not scorecards.”

“It’s more fun to celebrate someone else’s success than your own.”

What’s your big dream?  How did (or will) you build momentum and move forward? Leave a comment…

Photo credit: Happy Days Photos and Art (creative commons)

Jody felt the seatbelt pull tight against his chest and hips. His body’s momentum continued forward against the belt; he heard a low scream as the car fell backward, the undercarriage scraping hard against the pavement.

His view of the road ahead tilted up, the car’s windshield framed the bright sun, surrounded by a few puffy clouds.  Where’s the road? His mind fell just a beat behind reality.

He snapped back in his seat when the car’s tail hit the bottom of the hole.  Jagged pavement, torn re-bar, and broken glass now framed the bright blue sky. Jody whipped his gaze to Jen, dozing in the passenger seat just seconds before. Now she stared toward him, eyes wide, breath frozen.

Feeling her panic, he fumbled with her seatbelt latch, releasing her, and them himself. Gravity held their bodies against the seat backs, and Jody struggled to pull himself up through the shattered windshield.

He climbed up the hot hood, and folded his waist over the car’s grill to lean down and reach for Jen’s hand, but she wasn’t reaching back. Her eyes flitted back and forth, struggling to make sense of what she couldn’t see.  She tried to reach her hand out toward Jody’s distant voice, but her muscles didn’t respond.

Jody heard the sirens in the distance.  It’s now or never, he thought. He looked at Jen and knew that she needed more help than he could give her. She would be better off if the paramedics found her.  She clearly couldn’t run with him; she wouldn’t survive the night in the cold desert.

He scrambled back down to the bottom of the hole and pulled a backpack through the back window, stuffing as much as he could into its gaping mouth. He paused, leaning across the broken glass of Jen’s window, and kissed her on the forehead.  “I’m sorry, babe.  I can’t let them find me here, but they’ll take care of you…”

And then he ran.

Why is Jody running? And what will happen to Jen? Leave a comment…

Now, I’m a huge fan of not leaving my house, so the Internet in general, and social media in particular, have been very helpful in this regard.

Enter: Facebook Groups.

I’m in a few of these. Some are for networking/sharing each others’ content, and more are for encouragement and advice and learning from each other. The smallest group I’m in has about twenty people. The largest one has almost six thousand.

Yeah. You heard it. 6,000 people. In one group. 

And at first, I was excited about connecting with people and learning about their dreams. But then it turned into a giant vortex, sucking me deeper and deeper, constantly checking, fearful I’d miss something, devouring my newsfeed.

Eventually, a group ceases to help if you become a slave to it. 

So what do you do? How do you put the group back into its place and get your newsfeed (and your life) back? 

Step 1: Rescue Your Newsfeed

First, turn off notifications for the group. Do this from the menu bar on the group page; on the right side of the bar, you’ll see a button for “Notifications,” which you can set to “Off.”

You can (and will) still get notified for likes or comments on anything you’ve posted or when people tag you. But killing the general notifications will significantly reduce the traffic in your inbox.

Also, remove the group from your newsfeed. From any group post in your newsfeed, click the little gray arrow in the upper right corner of the post, and choose “Unfollow {GroupName}.”

This won’t remove you from the group, and you’ll be able to get back to it from the list of groups at the top left in your main Facebook newsfeed view. But it will stop delivering a million-and-one posts from the group into your newsfeed, leaving you free to notice Grandma’s post about her new hip or to find out your parents are selling your childhood home.

Step 2: Set Your Priorities

Once you’ve freed your feed, you’ll find yourself clicking on the group incessantly to see the new posts you might have missed. Or was that just me?

Sometimes, especially in a big group, the volume of posts can be overwhelming. I had to let go of the idea of “keeping up.” In a really large or really active group, it’s simply impossible to read every post and every comment.

Learn to be OK with skimming and with missing some posts so you can focus on what really matters to you.

In other words, choose your priorities before they choose you. For me, I have to focus on my writing first. If I open Facebook before I write, I find it much harder to write freely without distraction.

Step 3: Engage Strategically

On days when it works, I set aside specific times to skim through the group, commenting and encouraging other members. (On days when it works not-so-well, I leave Facebook open and look at it three times for every sentence I complete. Not a great role model here, am I?)

If I have enough time available, I’ll pick one or two posts that group members have shared to read through and comment more deeply. But when time is tight, sometimes that doesn’t happen.

Also, I know it hurts to post something vulnerable in a big group and get swept down the feed quickly. So I try to engage intentionally with pieces or people that either really connect with my own passion or who seem to not be getting the attention they deserve.

Are you ready?

On the days when I follow these simple steps, I find I have a lot more time to focus on the right activities. On the days when I let it slide, I look back and ask, “where did the day go?”

So are you ready to make some great connections AND take back your day?

It takes some discipline, but in the end, it’s worth it.

What tips do you have to keep social media from ruling your life? Leave a comment…

Fiction Friday is back, y’all!

Today’s piece is a micro flash fiction — a complete story in 150 words or less. The only setup you get: it’s prompted by the photo below, and it’s “speculative fiction,” which means it falls into the broad category of  not entirely realistic/of this world. Sci-fi, fantasy, dystopian, and horror all fall under this umbrella.

Maw

At this depth, even my spine is slow.

I push off, drifting through cold, thick water toward the cave’s rocky mouth. Simon lost contact two hours ago while charting a section of the ocean floor. The glow in the cave ahead is my only hope to find him.

The current pulls hard. My body is slow to respond down here, but I catch the rocks, pull myself inside, and pray.

Spongy walls lead into a cavern guarded by thick stalactites, walls split by jagged slits open to the ocean. I float feet first toward the cavern, bump into an object floating in the dark.

I glance up and see Simon, his frozen eyes staring through his helmet’s visor.

The floor heaves and the opening snaps shut, stalactite teeth tearing us both in half. Our bodies wash toward the beast’s throat, and I watch until my brain realizes I’m gone.

Where do you think the narrator is? Leave a comment…

(Photo via Splickety Magazine)

The premise: Lots of people make a new year’s resolution to read more books. And science holds that you’re more likely to achieve your goals if you see other people also making progress toward their goals. So Jon is pulling a bunch of people together to share progress and motivate each other.

We start 2014 with an empty bookshelf…could be a real one, or, in my case, a virtual one in Goodreads.

You can follow my #emptyshelf board on Pinterest, and you can join in anytime on Pinterest, if you like.

And every now and then, I’ll share a little bit about the books I’m piling up on my empty shelf. Maybe you’ll like some of them.

So here’s what I’ve read so far:

Title/Author: One Day In Budapest, JF Penn

What It’s About: When a priest is murdered at the Basilica of St Stephen in Budapest, Hungary, and the Holy Right relic is stolen, the ultra-nationalist Eröszak party calls for retribution and anti-Semitic violence erupts in the city. Dr Morgan Sierra, psychologist and ARKANE agent, must race against time to find the Holy Right and expose the conspiracy.

Why I Read It:  Joanna Penn is an independent author with a success story that I admire. Plus, I enjoy well–written thrillers.

Favorite Idea:   Novellas and are quicker to market than full–scale novels, and can still pack in a lot of action and a complete story arc.

Where can you buy it? Right here.

Title/Author: Story Structure to Die For, PJ Reece

What It’s About:  Author PJ Reece takes a fresh look at how award–winning stories are structured.

Why I Read It:  I always want to be learning and growing as a writer.

Favorite Idea: “A writer has an obligation to the protagonist to test in in the only way that proves him a hero.”

Where can you buy it? Right here.

What are you reading right now? Leave a comment…

I could say I focused, or poured into real life, or something that makes me sound all impressive. But the truth is, life just got to be a little much. Living a dream come true is harder than I anticipated. Creativity takes energy. Learning a craft takes energy. Saying “yes” to things takes energy. Failing to meet commitments takes energy.

We find our limits by reaching beyond them; I certainly found mine. We learn by trying things that don’t work out the way we planned. And the lesson is not complete until we — until I  —  commit to behaving differently.

2013 was a year of learning.

Lesson: I learned when I don’t sleep, all bets are off.
Action Step: I have to let go of controlling things (and people) and take better care of myself.

Lesson: I learned I go a little crazy when I don’t write.
Action Step: I’m happiest (and most sane) when I’m writing fiction. So I have to make time every day (usually at 5AM) for fiction.

Lesson: I learned I still let fear and doubt stop me from doing what I’m meant to do.
Action Step: I have to stop being my own worst hater, and trust the encouragers in my life.

I accomplished some stuff in 2013:

• I travelled to Guatemala and my heart broke all over again for the people the world simply dismisses.
• I led a youth mission trip to DC and saw the hearts of 42 kids soften to the poverty and need right here in the US.
• I managed a team of amazing writers as they told awesome stories and equipped thousands of missionaries to be the love of Jesus on every continent (except Antarctica. I think the penguins already know how they got there. They’re smart like that.)
• I helped several people triumph over technology and grammar to share their writing with the world.

But I screwed some things up, too.  I watched a lot of TV. I yelled at my kids. I overcommitted. I worried.

I failed at a lot of stuff.

And I’ll screw plenty up in 2014, too.

My hope is just to screw up different things. New things.

To learn from experiments, and to try things big enough that even if I fall short, I still manage to make a difference to someone, somewhere.  (Tweet that!)

• I’m going to listen more and talk less.
• I’m going to watch Masha graduate from high school and launch into college.
• I’m going to watch Lena start her last year of high school (can you believe it??).
• I’m going to finish and self–publish a novel (and it might not be the one you expect).
• I’m going to encourage Mark as he goes on a mission trip to India at the end of January.

When 2015 rolls around, I’ll be a better wife and mom, a better writer and reader, and a better boss and employee. And I’ll have plenty of mistakes to learn from.

I’m sorry about that, but kinda not. Because I’ve been pouring my time and energy into a team of writers and creatives that I’m super proud of.

These kids are changing the world, yo. For realz.
(yeah, most of them are young enough to be my kids…and yeah, that’s my lame attempt at sounding younger than I really am) 

So, to celebrate Orphan Sunday and National Orphan Awareness Month, I want to brag on them a little by sharing a project that’s close to all our hearts.

Welcome Zi

Over the past month, the team at Adventures in Missions has been sharing stories of orphans and children at risk. Thanks to the Adventures/World Race family, our missionaries have met and loved these kids. Together we’ve prayed for them, sponsored them, advocated for them, and even adopted them.

And now we want to share an amazing story of what happens when people say yes.

Two years ago, we watched as World Racer Jenn Watson met a little Chinese boy with Down Syndrome named Zi. Jenn took a leap of faith when she asked her family to adopt him, and God opened every door to make it possible.

In Psalm 68:6, God promises that he sets the lonely in families. From a month in China to a three-minute Facebook conversation to a single $30,000 day, this is a story written by God’s hand to honor that promise.

Today we celebrate the miracle of adoption.

Grab some tissues, watch this short film, and share it on your favorite social media sites with the hashtag #ProjectZi:

Zi from Adventures In Missions on Vimeo.

This is just one of the many stories the prayers, financial support, and mission trips with Adventures in Missions have made possible. I am proud to be a part of the Adventures family.

Will you share how adoption has touched you? Leave a comment…

As a project manager, I used to joke that I got paid to be a control freak. But when it comes to relationships, my control-freak-ed-ness is…not a gift.

Holding on

I suspect that most parents struggle with control issues from time to time. With wanting their kids to make certain choices, with wanting to protect them from painful mistakes.

And when your kids come from hard places, when they’ve lived through trauma and seen things no kid should see…well, Mama Bear gets even more protective. Raawr.

Seriously, though. As they grow into young adults, I want to equip them to make their own choices, but I also feel like they have experiences lurking in their past covering them with a veil of lies. Past betrayals that could derail them. Hidden pain that might make hard choices harder. Too hard.

In an effort to protect and guide them, I sometimes go too far.

I try to make my choices theirs.

Letting go

Tyler Ward preached on this a few weeks ago, and really slammed me against a wall.

In the time since, I have talked with several friends struggling with a similar desire to protect and guide and speak into the lives of people they love–people who are faced with or making choices that, well, aren’t the ones we want for them.

There were lots of great takeaways in Tyler’s sermon; it’s really worth a full watch. (if you’re a more “on the go” person, you can download the audio and listen, but you’ll miss a pretty awesomely hilarious visual aid. trust me)

But if you only have time to skim, don’t miss this part:

Think about the people you’re struggling to guide or lead or influence…or control? Those people you’re praying for?

God loves them even more than you do.

Yeah. You heard that right.

You love them. You care about them. You lie awake at night worrying about them.

They could be your kids, or your parents, or your best friend’s boyfriend’s cousin’s uncle. Whoever it is, you love and care. Maybe even more than you care about what happens to yourself.

But God cares even more. God loves them even more.

Even more.

So why do you think you can do a better job taking care of them than God can?

Freedom

Seriously, folks, this is freeing me.

It’s not easy. I need reminders throughout the day.

So much so that I hung this prayer up on a post-it note above my bathroom sink. I see it often enough to remind me and reinforce, but not so often that I tune it out.

Trust me, I have to say that “I believe” part a few times. I’m still reminding myself. I’m still choosing to believe.

I’m choosing to trust that God loves them even more than I do.

What do you need to lay down today? Leave a comment…

pps: This really is worth the time to watch…Or to download: trust-god-with-others.mp3  Really.

pps. This doesn’t mean we don’t/shouldn’t/can’t ask for God to intervene in specific ways. It also doesn’t mean that things will always turn out the way we want them to. It’s just helping me wrap my brain and my heart around a horrible cycle of trying to control other people’s actions.

During our time in Ukraine, I woke up without an alarm clock. I made a cup of tea. I sat down and wrote.

and wrote.

and wrote.

I spewed words. I wrote about what happened the day before. I wrote where we went, what we ate. Sometimes I wrote a funny anecdote about a garbage truck or a crocodile bouncy-house.

I wasn’t trying to grow a platform or get blog traffic or launch a book. I was just relaxing and trying to reassure our parents that we were still alive. And let them see pictures of their granddaughters.

Those were some of the best days of my writing life. And I really, really sucked at writing.

The world has lied to us.

(Shocker, right?)

It’s told us that for something to matter–to be worth doing–we have to be epic at it.

And when we’re working as a pro, or when we’re teaching, or when we’re building a business or a dream, then yes, we have a responsibility to bring our best. We are called to grow.

But we also need space for our brains to rest. We need to relax. We need to chill. We need joy and peace.

We need the freedom to suck at something.

After I started getting serious about writing, my attitude changed. I started to analyze as I typed. It became work. Then it became the work I did for money.

All of a sudden, my peace-filled, life-giving passion became my job.

Side note: I’m living the dream. It’s a dream come true. It’s awesome, it’s amazing, it’s filled with joy. It rocks. Truly. I’m grateful.

BUT I am also finding that what used to relax me is now work. It’s hard. There’s an expectation of quality.

I have no hobby. I just have hustle.

Despite what we say, we don’t value rest.

But…your brain can’t run at the redline forever.  (Tweet that.)

You’ll stop sleeping well. Your blood pressure will rise. Insomnia will set in.

You’ll get sick. You’ll get a little crazy. (I know I am.)

It doesn’t have to be this way.

Instead of always striving for awesome in every part of your life, find one thing you enjoy doing, and suck at it.

Seriously.

Pick something that looks fun. Maybe it’s golf. Maybe it’s knitting. Or playing the guitar. Maybe it’s writing.

Do NOT work hard to try to get better. Do NOT analyze or drill or practice or debrief. Just give yourself the grace to have something in your life that isn’t hard work.

There doesn’t have to be a trophy. Just enjoy being awful.

What do you suck at?  Leave a comment…

I met Sirena online through a writers’ group, and she entrusted me and a few others with a beta copy of her first novel, Devil’s Dilemma. (In all fairness, some might call this cheating. I read it last year, and then re-read it really quickly for this year’s challenge. And it was worth reading again. So I’m listing it. And telling you about it. Because this is my blog and I can do what I want.)

From the Amazon description:

Griffin Javensen was born to die–to save a world that sought to destroy her and for a God that had forsaken her.

Griffin is the Chosen, a representative of the human race who will make the ultimate sacrifice in order to preserve humanity and keep the world from ending. It all started the night she was ripped from her mother’s body. One second earlier or later, and she’d have been fine. But she was born at the right time, in the right circumstances, and she is Chosen. It was all downhill from there.

She is tormented through ten events granted to Alaria, a Devil who has been placed as Lucifer’s proxy and who has one foot in Hell and the other in Heaven. Alaria’s job is to convince Griffin that God has abandoned her. If she can do that, there’s a good chance Griffin will Choose Hell and demons will get to rule the world. There’s only one problem: Alaria wants what only God can give her, and what only Griffin can ask for: her humanity.

On her 29th birthday, instead of cake and ice cream, Griffin celebrates with demons and hell hounds. After barely escaping alive, it becomes obvious that she needs protection. Dr. Allen Winslow, the doctor who has saved her life several times, also happens to be from Warrior lines. Who better to protect Griffin than the best Warrior alive?

Enter Braxton–a rough and tumble Warrior with a chip on his shoulder, who has been having visions of Griffin since he was four years old–and Gabriel–an Archangel determined to save the world, desperately in love with the one woman he should never have, and torn between playing by the rules and doing what is right. There is only one goal–survive to January 1st.

Griffin’s duty is to offer her life as payment for the dubious privilege of being Chosen. The choice she has to make is simple: Heaven or Hell. Unfortunately, she is not simply choosing for herself. Her decision will determine the fate of humanity. As her time gets continuously shorter and the danger becomes more and more real, Braxton and Griffin make unlikely alliances and struggle with unstoppable emotions.

As midnight rushes closer and the battle escalates, the question becomes not whether Griffin will Choose, but whether anyone else will survive to see dawn.

Title/Author: Devil’s Dilemma, Sirena Robinson

What It’s About: An imperfect woman carries the fate of humanity on her shoulders, fighting dangerous supernatural forces, and building unlikely alliances to survive long enough to make her choice.

Why I Read It: I was privileged to read a beta copy and share my thoughts with Sirena, but there wasn’t much to criticize. Devil’s Dilemma kept me on the edge of my seat, staying up late, never wanting to put it down. And I enjoy reading new independent authors (I think you’re gonna hear that a lot this year).

Favorite Idea: I love when complex and imperfect people are entrusted with weighty situations and don’t behave predictably.

Where can you buy it? Right here.  (Note: there are adult themes and situations as well as religious themes that some people might not enjoy.  If that type of thing is not your cup of tea, this one might not be for you.)

Do you read books that are outside your comfort zone? Leave a comment…

A cluttered life leads to a cluttered heart.

And clutter chokes out the joy and peace that we are meant to have.

The Bible talks about this a lot, but it’s common sense. You don’t have to believe in Jesus, or anything really, to know this.

So why do we worship at the altar of busy?

It would be really easy to just say “it’s in our nature.” But I want better for me. And if I read the Bible and actually believe what it says, I find out God wants better for me too.

The problem I keep struggling with is kind of a chicken and egg thing. I know better is out there, but somehow I can’t seem to make the time to make the time. I’m too busy to slow down.

I‘m too frazzled to find peace.

The definition of insanity is continuing to do the same thing over and over and expecting different results. The same thing, for me, for now, is clearly not working.

I’m not sleeping well (it’s 2AM as I’m writing this). I’m not eating all that well (because I die a little inside when I think of Wal-Mart).

Masha had her tonsils out last week (ouch). Lena has show choir rehearsals and previews and competitions (they won Grand Champion on Saturday!).

Mark and I have meetings, and ministry, and coffee with old friends, and coffee with new friends, and coffee at home (OK, so coffee hasn’t suffered).

Every week, every day, I say it’s time to do something different, and then busy gets in the way and then the day is gone. And it looked exactly like the one before it.

I beat myself up for what I didn’t get done and for what I wasted time on.

I poke myself when I mess up.

It’s time for some grace.

My friend Joseph released a devotional last Friday (and he’s offering seven free bonus gifts with it this week, too!).

It’s about finding grace and hope. And with grace and hope comes peace.

Ever since I saw an early draft last summer, his words have danced around the walls of my heart, inviting me out. Inviting me to find peace. To make changes. To know grace. To lead me home.

Maybe it’s time to let those words sink into cultivated soil rather than falling among the thorns of my cluttered life.

So what’s the secret??

I’m a writer. I can write a really great search-optimized titles like “Seven Ways to Clear a Cluttered Heart” or “The Obvious Secret To Peace You Might Never Imagine.” I can probably even write 500 words of BS with some made-up answer.

But really, folks, I don’t have it all figured out.

If there’s a secret, I haven’t imagined it yet. Or at least I haven’t let go of the garbage that’s cluttering my life enough to see it. (yes, that was meant to be ironic…or whatever.)

So the simple secret, I guess, is to just let go of some of the clutter.

To focus on what’s important…the hearts of my familiy (and their bellies). the word of God. Rest.

And to let the rest of it go.

Simple, right?

Simple, but oh, so hard.

What’s cluttering up your life? Leave a comment…

Tim Gallen is a writer on a journey of recovery, rediscovery, and irreverence. He appreciates a good laugh, a good beer, and the Oxford comma. Read his musings at his blog, The Daily Gallen or follow him on Twitter @tim_gallen.

Ask 10 writers  the best way to write, and you’ll likely receive 11 different answers.

But they’d all be wrong.

Because there’s only one way to write.

One word at a time.

Whether large or small. Long or short. Simple or superfluous.

The only way to write is one word at a time.

I’ve always been a writer.

That is to say, I always aspired to be a writer.

Instead of writing, I dreamed about writing. I thought about writing. I talked about writing.

The one thing I never did, however, was write.

By failing to write, I lost control of my direction. I lost control of my life. I began to float. Wake up. Go to work. Come home. Go to bed. And do it again. Like a hamster on its wheel and in its cage, I moved and existed, but I wasn’t going anywhere. I wasn’t living.

Losing control of our lives makes it easy for fear to worm its way into our hearts and minds. When fear rules us, we resign ourselves to reacting to the world rather than proactively engaging it.

Like a journey of a thousand steps, my recovery began with one step. Actually, more like one word. Followed by another. And another. And another.

Writing is a lot like life. You can’t do it in your head. Sure, you can dwell on ideas, and think on thoughts. You can craft scenes and phrases and stanzas in your mind, but until you get out of your mind and set down those ideas on paper or on screen, you’re not writing.

The same goes for life. You can plan it, you can think about it. Heck, you can even visualize it. But until you get out of your head to fully embrace and engage the present moment, you’re not living.

For me, writing is life. And there’s only one way to approach it.

One word at a time.

What single step can you take toward your dream? Leave a comment…

I like to sleep. I have structured my life, including my job, around my desire to wear big-girl shoes as infrequently as  possible.

So I like comfortable. I like cozy.

I like easy.

But really, easy isn’t really a good thing for me.

So tomorrow morning, I’m hopping on a plane at the god-forsaken time of 7AM to meet up with a team of folks that are ready to throw off “easy” too.

We’re headed to Guatemala to let our hearts be broken for people the world has discarded.

I’m getting off my couch for a little while. But you don’t have to leave yours.

Where do you come in?

Four simple steps:

Pray. Encourage. Share. Go.

Seriously…this isn’t about me going to Guatemala. It’s about sharing the stories of the people I encounter. Putting faces and names to the abstract ideas of poverty and hunger and pain.

It’s about demonstrating how each of us can share our gifts to leave the world a better than we found it.

Pray

• Pray for our team to remember this trip is not about us, it’s about Jesus.
• Pray for the children we will comfort and the families we will feed.
• Pray for our leaders to teach us ways to serve as Jesus served and to love as Jesus loved.
• Pray for others to hear our stories and be inspired, too.

Encourage

We will be experiencing heartbreaking realities of poverty and hardship, and I’ll need constant encouragement. And nothing encourages me more than knowing that you guys are here.

Join my list to get new posts in your inbox. Then each day, click on “Leave a comment…” at the bottom of the message and, well, leave comments. 

Share

Tell someone about Guatemala. Share these stories on Facebook and Twitter (there’s a link at the bottom of every post) or with your family and friends.

In fact, you can tweet this post to your followers just by clicking here.

Help inspire others to make a difference.

Go

Consider participating in a mission trip of your own.

If you don’t know where to start, Adventures in Missions offers trips (both in the US and abroad) for all age groups. Many local churches and humanitarian groups organize trips, too.

Pray about how God wants to use you to make a difference, ask him to show you the right opportunity, and trust him to equip you.

“When we encounter the needs of the world…we realize we can be part of something more…”
—Jeff Goins, Wrecked

If you change one thing about the world, what would you change? Leave a comment…

This is a guest post from Barry Kerzner. Barry shares experience, strength, and hope at his blog, It’s your Awesome. He writes about various recovery issues, and chasing your dreams because you do deserve to succeed! He also creates “Photoart” and you can visit his Portfolio here. You can also follow him on Twitter @itsyourawesome.

The best thing about recovery is that it works when you work at it.

It really doesn’t matter what you are recovering from. (If you live with someone in recovery, if you love someone in recovery, then you are in recovery too!)

Alcohol and/or substance abuse, gambling, physical abuse, mental abuse, divorce, serious illness, co-dependency; honestly, it doesn’t matter.

Recovery is often a long, and mostly difficult process, filled with challenges.

Challenges require effort. What makes our accomplishments so satisfying to us are the obstacles we overcome.

*Photo Credit: “Brooklyn Bridge” by Barry Kerzner Image is ©Kerzner 2004

It’s Really A Bridge

Like any bridge, recovery is made up of many cables, all working together, and each dependent on the others to give strength to the whole.

There are broken and damaged relationships, lost opportunities, old playmates and playgrounds, crazy sleep habits and patterns. There is apprehension. There is a lack of trust in yourself, and others. There is a sense of what has been lost and “what could have been.” There is an overriding sense of caution as we learn and relearn how to conduct various aspects of our daily lives. And where would our daily lives be without all the drama?

But wait: Aren’t those all negatives?

You cannot go back and relive or undo the past. Much as we would like, that just isn’t not an option.

It is said, “Experience is the best teacher.” The past is our experience. Recovery is not about undoing or trying to change the past. It is about learning from the past. Each one of us has a treasure trove of lessons available to us in our past experiences.

Learning is a positive thing. When we repurpose things, we make them better. Recovery is about repurposing our lives. Each new day gives us a chance to not make the same mistakes and poor choices we have made in the past. This very action frees us from the bondage of the past, and the damage we left behind.

The Common Thread Is You

To make better choices now, healthy choices, we have to be our best advocate. The biggest catalyst in our recovery is what we tell ourselves. The first voice that reaches our ears is our own.

And what a powerful voice it is!

We cannot give power to the negative voices that want us to go backward. Those voices would still have us in our old state.

We must tell ourselves that we have worth. We must tell ourselves that we deserve a happy, healthy life. We do tell ourselves that we will succeed. We should be doing this every day. If we do not believe in us, who will? Make your recovery a strong bridge from your past to your future.

So: Be careful what you say, because YOU are listening.

These are the voyages of the Family Niles….

Its permanent mission: to explore strange new teenagers; to seek out new life and new ways of living; to boldly go where no one in their right mind has gone before. (cue Star Trek theme song…)

OK, so that might be a little bit extreme (and a little lame), but yeah. Life is happening, people. My head is spinning.

We’re stepping into a season where God is proving his faithfulness and where we’ll need to rely on that more than ever. Changes are facing us on every front. And while all of them will ultimately end well, managing them and finding the new harmony are going to take a lot of attention.

Some of these changes relate to some great opportunities for my dream, and they are going to take a lot of focus.

Some of them have to do with family schedule and focus, which always must be top priority.

And…I leave for Guatemala on Saturday morning!

As I’m starting a week that’s going to be insanely busy, I caught a post from my friend and mentor Jeff Goins about the importance of making space for creativity to happen. He reminded me that busy is not a good problem to have.

Mental clutter blocks creativity. (click here to tweet that.)

Because busy is bad, I’m going to be making some changes to the blog for the next month or so:

• You’ll be seeing a few more guest posts from friends that I respect and admire (starting with a great one tomorrow).
• I’ll be posting even more randomly…some more short posts, maybe sharing some photos, or poems, or just amusing thoughts.
• Every now and then, I’ll be putting together a newsletter with sneak peaks into what’s coming up.

I’m also ramping up to release an short Ebook in the spring, so I’ll be sharing little bits and pieces as that comes together.

All that to say, if you’re not subscribed to receive updates via email, I really would recommend it. It’s super-easy, you won’t miss anything, AND you’ll also get a free copy of my first eBook about perseverence as you chase a dream of your own (and about how important it is to take care of yourself when you hit the wall).

Join my email list here:

Sundi Jo is a writer, speaker, and small business owner. She is the author of the free eBook, Step Away from that Diet, sharing tips from her 145 lb. weight loss. You can easily find her writing at the local coffee shop in a pair of jeans and flip-flops. Find Sundi Jo on Facebook or Twitter (@sundijo).

Peer pressure is at an all time high these days.

I can’t prove it, but I feel it in my bones. Despite losing 145 pounds, I still fight it every day.

Turn the TV on and you’ll see sex everywhere. Skinny chicks strut through every commercial. If they’re not skinny, then they’re selling a weight loss program.

There is a new diet peering around every corner.

“Drink this and lose that.”
“Take this pill and you’re life will change forever.”
“Eat bread and you may die.”

(Okay, I might have slightly exaggerated on that last one, but you get the point.)

The world strives for perfection. We’re supposed to do the same, right?

We’re missing the key ingredient to believing the truth: being in line with the One who created us.

You are what you think

Dr. Rita Hancock, author of the life-changing book, Radical Well-being: A biblical guide to overcoming pain, illness, and addictions, says,

“Thinking you’re fat eventually makes you become fat. Your actions affect your attitudes, and your attitudes affect your actions. Watch what you think because it will affect what you do.”

There is so much truth to this statement it’s worth reading again.

If you believe you’re fat, then you will eventually be fat.

This saddens my heart. I think of all the young women and men under so much pressure to fit inside a perfect world that how they view themselves is transformed by what strangers on the TV tell them.

You must know who you truly are

When I spent a year at a discipleship program for women, my mentor would often require us to stand in front of the mirror and repeat out loud who we were in Christ.

I felt like an idiot.

Picture this for a second: I was standing in front a mirror saying things like,

I am God’s child.
I have been chosen by God and adopted as his child.
I have been redeemed and forgiven of all my sins.
I am free from condemnation.

But after I took the focus off myself and stopped thinking about what others would say if they saw me, the truth really started to sink in.

The more I said it, the more I believed it.

Give it a shot. Stand in front of the mirror and tell yourself who you are in Christ.

Who cares what other people think. Just do it. It’s freeing, truly.

You are accepted where you are

Don’t take this statement the wrong way. If you are significantly overweight, that’s not okay. God wants better for you.

Regardless of your decisions, however, the God that created you and knows the exact numbers of hairs on your head (even the gray ones) loves you right where you are – in the midst of your brokenness.

Because of that, he wants to love you through your current situation. Ask him to show you how to move forward without the shame and condemnation that comes with the lies of this world.

Remind yourself again who you truly are, not who you believe you are.

This moment you’re in right now is the time to move forward. Not yesterday, not tomorrow, but right now.

Every new breath is a second chance. Will you take the chance?

Where can you start believing the truth instead of the world? Leave a comment…

*Photo credit: tq2cute (Creative Commons)

Today, I’m visiting the Adventures in Missions offices in Gainesville, Georgia to finally meet the amazing marketing team that I serve with, and I’m also virtually visiting while my friend Jim Woods of UnknownJim.com anticipates the arrival of his new baby boy!

My post for Jim is called One Dreamer’s Map to the Promised Land:

Once upon a time, Christine lived a nice normal busy life. Great career, family, two cars and a house. Living the dream.

Except the dream was a nightmare. Not the “chased by monsters” kind, but the “constant dread of the insignificant” kind.

Rodent of your choice running for the ridiculous disappearing reward of choice.

(click here to read the rest)

I hear about them from bloggers I admire and I fear the day a hater shows up in my comments.

I hear about them from my kids and it leaps to a whole new level. My heart breaks. I want to punch them in the face.

Haters are the black cloud in a clear blue sky. They will bitch and whine about anything. Everything.

“I wanted a yellow Ferrari, not a red one. You suck.”

They hide behind clever pseudonyms and fake facebook accounts; they strike and slither away into deep, dark holes.

They are no one.

The Ugly Truth

I’m a glass half full of scorpions kind of girl. Keeping a positive attitude? Tough stuff. Especially around the kids, and especially in my writing, I work at the positive tone.

But inside, the voice that mocks me is mine.

I am my own worst hater.

I am the one asking, “Who are you to change the world?”

I am the one thinking, “You pretend you’re good, but you’re not. The people reading and encouraging you? They’re just really nice people. But they lie.”

It’s hard to ignore that hater.

The Beautiful Reality

I’m not alone.

Ask a room full of dreamers about their inner voices? Surprise! They all say the same things.

Our inner haters aren’t very creative. So why give them power?

If the haters in our heads all use the same talking points–if each one of us has that in common–we can band together against them.

Together, we can do what alone is too hard. Too scary. Too intimidating.

We can punch our inner haters in the face.

A tribe full of dreamers is an amazing, uplifting thing. Let’s banish the haters in our own heads. Let’s punch them in the face and get on with chasing our dreams.

What does your inner hater tell you? Leave a comment…

*Photo Credit Andrius Petrucenia (Creative Commons)

When I was a kid, I invested hours circling items that I wanted.

The catalog was as big as a phone book and showed a picture of every thing that had ever been made. If it existed, it was available in that catalog. And I circled it.

My family went to church, and I knew Christmas was about Jesus’ birthday.  But it was also about the stuff.  Sneaking down to get my stocking before anyone else was up.  Finding millions of gifts piled under the tree.  Peeking at the one gift that couldn’t be wrapped…the one Dad stayed up all night to assemble.

I didn’t say a lot of thank-you’s to my parents for all the stuff.

As a teen, Christmas became a lot of work.

Singing in the Youth Choir, robing up for acolyte duty, helping the old people.  Advent services.  Sunday Services.  Four Christmas Eve services.  Christmas Morning service.  With the church in our backyard, we worked all of them.

I didn’t hear a lot of thank-you’s from God for all the chipping in.

After I moved out on my own, Christmas changed again.

I broke up with God, and His birthday struck me as an annoyance.  A time to juggle travel and visits to family for the purpose of fighting with them.  They hated whatever boyfriend I brought home (in hindsight, they weren’t exactly wrong).  I hated having to go to every church service offered when I figured it was all a lie.

I didn’t see a lot of reason to thank God for the mess my life was in.

When I grew up a little more, it occurred to me that I might have been, well, not right about a few things.

Life was a little less simple than I wanted it to be.  And I was a little less able to have it all figured out on my own all the time.  An amazing man introduced me to a God that was a lot different from any version of him I had known about.  A God that was patient.  Unconditional.  Forgiving.  Merciful.  One whose birthday party might be worth attending.

I started to thank Him for the good things in my life.

As I gingerly removed each brick from the wall around my heart, God peeked over the edge at me.  He passed me bits of grace through the gaps.

I could only take so much, then.  But as I learned to receive it, to absorb it, to float in it, I was able to let it flow faster.  I began to lean on Him in the difficult times, and not just expect to get stuff wrapped in pretty paper with sparkling bows.  He taught me how to forgive others.  And myself.

I started to thank Him for the hard things through which we can grow.

And then He gave us two amazing, beautiful, scared teenaged girls.

Two girls who experienced so much more pain and loss in their childhood than I could have handled at twice their age.

There was no JCPenney catalog for them.  If they were lucky, there might be a shoebox from the other side of the world filled with dollar-store trinkets and maybe some socks.  Christmas meant something entirely different to them.

I started to thank Him for the lives that I could change for Him.  

Starting with mine.

Continuing with theirs.

This Christmas, our funny little family that God created in a way that I never could have planned…we are shopping and decorating and singing carols and watching The Grinch.

And we’re saying prayers and thanking God for entrusting us with two beautiful young women, and leaning on His wisdom to teach them how to love His way rather than ours.

They are adopted by us.

James 1:27 Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you.

We are adopted by God.

Romans 8:15  So you have not received a spirit that makes you fearful slaves. Instead, you received God’s Spirit when He adopted you as His own children. Now we call Him, “Abba, Father.”

Merry Christmas.

John 3:16 For God loved the world so much that He gave His one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life.

Photo credit: Wishbook (Creative Commons)

I look into the eyes of the woman looking back into mine, and I wonder who she is and what makes her tick?

What gets her riled up?

(Yeah, I’m a little weird, I know. Just humor me, ok?)

What I mean is that every once in a while, I’m prompted to take stock of how I’m living. How well I’m using the gifts that I’ve been given. How well I’m making the world a better place. How well I’m doing with the opportunities that cross my path.

And then I think about how I measure “how well.” And then I get mad at myself.

Because you know what? I can’t say I’m doing enough. There’s always something more I could do.

It’s not always mine to do.

Recently, I found about a need. A pretty big need, in fact.

A friend is taking in two kids that have lived a harder life in their six short years than most of us will experience in our lifetimes.

My friend has never parented 6-year-olds before, so she doesn’t have neatly labelled boxes of hand-me-downs in her attic. She doesn’t have bunk beds. Or extra toys. Or coats and shoes in their sizes.

I wanted to give her all these things, but having never had 6-year-olds myself, I felt helpless. For a moment, I wished for my old job back so that I had piles of money so I could go buy stuff for her.

I got mad because I felt insufficient.

Then I thought “maybe my role here is to spread the word.” So I posted it on Facebook.

Then I got mad that people “like” stupid pictures of cats with hats, and share trite little sayings about Jesus and rants about the war on Christmas, but not one person stepped up to offer one piece of hand-me-down clothing.

I got mad that I couldn’t get others to meet my friend’s need.

But then I got a phone call from another friend who has been unemployed for a year, offering up some things her son had grown out of. And I thought of the hardships this friend has gone through in her life–unimaginable difficulties–and I saw God at work.

I saw one person truly understanding the broken heart of another.

And I saw how my role wasn’t to meet the need myself, or to get lots of people involved, but simply to connect one brokenhearted person to another.

What didn’t feel like enough to me? It was enough for God.

So what riles up the woman in the mirror?

I get mad at “ordinary.”

I seethe at the status quo.

I find myself frustrated when I settle.

We are meant for more. But we’re not meant to be or do it all.

We are meant to live in community. To all be individual parts of a whole body, working together to help each other, to encourage, to inspire, to make this world a better place.

We each have a part, we each have a responsibility. And while each of us has a different role, it’s critical that we all step up. That we say “yes.” That we live out the love that’s been given to us.

So when I look in the mirror, I’ll still get riled up about not doing enough, but I’ll also try to remember that I’m not the only one in the world.

What gets you all riled up? Leave a comment…

*Photocredit: Lovecocozombie (Creative Commons)