A Million Miles: The End!

It's Monday, Monday, Monday... And I'm loving it. I'm one of those strange people that actually digs Monday. It's a fresh start, a new beginning, a chance once more to get one week right. Granted, I've never achieved that goal yet, but I'm always up for giving it another shot. This week feels clean and bright and full of possibility. It might have something to do with the forecast for today: 70 degrees in November, thank you very much.

Anyway, it seems fitting on such a lovely morning to finally draw our A Million Miles in a Thousand Years discussion to a close. It's been a fun journey, and I've enjoyed your participation so much. Some of those early posts logged comments worthy of publication. Your stories and heartfelt musings were a beautiful thing to behold. But it's time to lay this baby to rest.

Instead of directly discussing the final chapters, I want to share a bit of what I've gleaned from the past months of digging deep into this book. We've already talked about so many things, and I'm sure some of wisdom that I'm taking from Miller's words are the result of our own wrestlings instead of his penned insight. Either way, I truly believe I can say this book changed the way I look at my life. I'm so grateful for that.

So, what have I taken from this book, this discussion, this period of wrestling with life and what it means to live abundantly? I've learned that the little things matter: unexpected snowfalls, conversations with strangers, a shared plate of fruit. I've discovered that if I want to live a meaningful life, all I really need to do is be present for it--to not forsake people for my favorite television show, or moments with my children for a couple extra minutes checking Facebook. I believe a meaningful life is in the details, in surprising yourself, saying "yes" when you want to say "no," being kind, opening your heart and your life and your home. It's about allowing yourself to experience every day with the sort of wide-eyed awe of a child, to laugh when God sings over you and take delight in the unexpected. And when life hurts, when it's hard and miserable and broken, I think you have to embrace that, too. Press it tight against you and hold with all you've got until you push through to the other side where you can accept that the light is brighter because of the darkness around it. I think most of all I learned that I don't have to make my life meaningful--it's already full of significance--all I have to do is open my eyes.

How about you? What have you ultimately taken away from this book? Any parting words or wisdom? Also, would you be interested in doing something like this again? Any suggestions for books or other ideas you'd like to throw out there for conversation? I really enjoyed doing this and would be open to doing it again. Thanks for reading!

E-Books vs. The Real Deal

Hi, all. I'm conducting a little online survey. My interest is both personal and professional... I have an idea rolling around in my head that I'd like to explore a bit with you. This is the first step. Would you be so kind as to take a moment and answer the following question?

Do you have a Nook, Kindle, or other e-book reader? Do you like it?

And for those of you who are dyed in the wool paper book fans (like me!), here's a site you might get a kick out of. Thanks to Sherry for providing the link. Too funny!

This is a test...

...of the emergency broadcast system. The Nicole Baart Blogger emergency broadcast system. Apparently it doesn't work because nothing was broadcast here while I was in emergency mode. System failure.

Oh, well. Sorry I've been absent. Last week was one of the hardest I've ever experienced. No, I can't really tell you about it; it's not my story to tell. But I cried more tears than I thought possible, and there was honestly a day when I believed, "We won't get over this. We will never get over this." And you know what? We won't. It'll always, always be with us, but I am starting to feel in tiny glimmers that we just might be better people on the other side. Softer, more compassionate. Capable of deeper love.

Anyway, thanks for being patient with me as I cried myself to sleep and ignored my computer for a week straight. I'm getting back into the swing of things. Slowly. Stay tuned this week for our final Million Miles post and some more thoughts on hurt and waiting and hope. It's there, isn't it? I have to believe that it is...

A Million Miles: Chapters 29-31

Okay, so there is such a thing as beating a dead horse. I think our little Donald Miller pony is breathing his last. It's been a fantastic discussion and I have loved your contributions, but I've been feeling for a while now that things are getting repetitive. I didn't notice that the first time I read the book...? Maybe I was so enthralled with the overall message that I missed the redundancy. Either way, I still believe it's an awesome book, and I'm so grateful that you've joined me in walking through it. Your insights have added immeasurable depth and wisdom to the ongoing conversation.

But we can't just stop. So here's what we're going to do. Today we'll discuss three more chapters just like we've always done, and then next Monday we'll finish the book in one fell swoop. I don't know how many chapters that gives us to finish, but if you're reading along, polish off the book for next Monday.

So, something fresh and new out of the book...

Chapter 30 is called Great Stories Have Memorable Scenes. Why yes they do. Right now I'm completely enmeshed in a story that has been brewing in my mind since I was a teenager. No joke. It's so exciting to finally be able to write this book! Anyway, one of the things that I'm actively working on is creating taut, unforgettable scenes. You know the ones, the sort of scene that keeps you up reading just one more chapter. And then, just one more.

Miller says: "I don't think memorable scenes help a story make sense. Other principles accomplish that. What memorable scenes do is punctuate the existing rise and fall of the narrative." I totally agree. The underlying action of my book will go on with or without the sorts of scenes that make my readers hold their breaths. But, oh, what would a book be without them? (Or a movie, a play... your life?)

I believe heart and soul that memorable scenes happen every day--it's just a matter of taking the time to acknowledge them. Sunday afternoon I took a long, hard walk all by myself. It was kind of dark and drizzly, and I was utterly alone on the walking trail. I could have been the last person in the world, and I felt exactly that way as I pounded out mile after mile. At first, I was so focused on putting one foot in front of the other that all I really noticed was the cement beneath my feet. But at the top of a little rise I stumbled a bit and slowed enough to notice my surroundings. I happened to be directly beneath a towering sugar maple, a brilliant conflagration of crimson and citron that quite literally glowed against a gunmetal sky. I hadn't been praying or even really thinking about much of anything, but all at once it was like I came face to face with God, and from behind his back he produced the most amazing bouquet. Just for me. I stood rooted to the spot, grinning and tearing up at the same time, and feeling like this was one of those precious moments when I was gifted with the ability to truly realize that God sings over me. Wow. I don't think I'll ever forget it.

Is that scene beneath a maple central to the unfolding of my personal narrative? No. But I wouldn't want to live a story without moments like that. And I don't want to write one without that either. So, here's my question for you: What is one of the most memorable scenes you've ever read/watched/experienced? What makes a scene unforgettable to you? Care to share? I'd love to hear what you have to say on this second-to-last discussion on A Million Miles in a Thousand Years!

Grace

Though I love being an author, I would definitely say that my motherhood defines me more than any other aspect of my life (well, after being claimed, saved, and sealed as an adopted child of God). Someone once said that being a mom is like giving your heart permission to exist outside of your body, and I could not agree more with that sentiment. Every day when my eldest takes off for school and my preschooler packs his backpack for a morning of playtime and learning, my heart follows them out the door. And when I lay my baby down for a nap, I can almost feel the ache of the distance between us. I know that sounds ridiculous, but it's true. I wonder if that's why I sit on the far side of the couch in the living room--the side that is closest to his bedroom. Or why I turn up the monitor so loud I can hear every breath he takes.

However, as much as I love my children, I never quite feel confident as a mom. I fail them so much. Yesterday (after hours of hearing them whine and cry--it must have been a full moon), I yelled at my kids so loud I'm sure the neighbors heard. Actually, I am sure the neighbors heard--they were gardening in their backyard and all our windows were open. Bad mom. And sometimes I'm tired and I just can't handle another "Why?" question. Why do we put gas in the car? Why can't I have a friend over? Why aren't we having something good for supper? Why did you put puppy seeds (translation: poppy seeds) in those muffins? So I put on PBS Kids and plunk them in front of the TV for half an hour. Bad mom. And though I try to feed my children healthy food, teach them good habits, read to them every day, and be Jesus for them in each and every situation, sometimes we have Macaroni & Cheese with hot dogs, I let them burp at the table, we watch Funniest Home Videos, and I fall short, fall short, fall short. Bad mom.

But the Lord is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love. He takes my meager motherly offerings and infuses them with his own amazing grace in ways that I will never understand. How can I be such a failure of a mom and still continue to watch my children grow in beauty and grace?

This morning my 1st grader was writing in his journal before school. He forgot it on the counter when his carpool showed up in our driveway, and I was blessed enough to have the opportunity to pick it up for him. It was open to a page with this written on it:

God has a plan for me. And I know it. God tolkt (talked) to my dad. And I thank (think?) God will tolk to me. My dad and mom love God.

Oh. My. Goodness. Wow. That's better than hitting #1 on the New York Times bestseller list. Better than a trip around the world or a million dollars. Better than... well, anything. Thank you, Lord, for moving in wonderful, mysterious ways. And thanks for whispering your grace into my children's hearts even when I yell.

Keepin' it real...

For those of you who think being an author is all fame and fortune (HA!), here's a sampling of some of the reviews, emails, and conversations that have kept me humble.

*     *     *     *

"An intriguing beginning, but the plot soon sinks into predictability and the characters become more shallow and underdeveloped as the story progresses."

A conversation:

Her: "How much did you have to pay the publishing house?"

Me: "Actually, they paid me."

Her: "Well, I know you might get royalties and stuff, but how much did you have to pay to get your book printed? Like, a couple thousand dollars?"

Me: "No, they paid me."

Her: "I don't think you understand my question."

"Boring and depressing."

"Your main character (Julia) has no integrity. I felt nothing for her."

"I bought your book because one reviewer compared you to Lisa Samson. You are nothing like Lisa Samson." (Well, I know that! Who could compare?)

"I will never read another one of your books."

*     *     *     *

Ouch! And yet, I can't help laughing. Don't get me wrong, I didn't always laugh... In fact, some of the above comments brought me to tears and made me think I should quit this writing gig altogether. But hey, maybe three years in the business (my first book came out in the fall of 2007!) has toughened me up a bit. Or helped me to realize that not everyone is going to love what I do. But I love doing it, and as long as they'll keep publishing me I'll keep writing!

And for those of you who are aspiring writers, start toughening up that elephant skin! We can compare bad reviews someday. :)

A Million Miles: Chapters 26-28

Is it just me or were the chapters for today a bit heavy? Okay, a lot heavy. Miller talked about conflict and pain and thoughts of suicide and understanding that our life stories are not about us. Yikes. Heady stuff. And yet so true; so important for us to understand even if the knowledge comes at a high cost.

These chapters are timely for me today. I found out this afternoon that one of my best friends is about to embark on a life-changing crossing. I wept for her this afternoon. I felt hurt and cheated and asked God why, and then I got good and angry. The sort of angry that's helpful--the sort that screams, "You're gonna kick this thing, and I'll be by your side the whole way." I clung to Miller's words in chapter 27: "There is no conflict man (woman) can endure that will not produce a blessing." We will wring a blessing out of this trial if we need to wrestle it from God like Jacob beneath the tree.

And I'm afraid that's all I've got for you today. I'm a bit raw. But I'd love to hear any words of encouragement you have. How do you find joy and blessing in trials? Or do you think that sort of understanding can only come after you've crossed to the other side?