Receiving Correction

Whether I ever have my work published beyond the odd magazine article or two, I am a writer. 

In the core of my self there is a place always thinking of stories and writing poems and outlining topics I would teach. Words are always swirling around in my head.

A few mornings ago, when my husband and I were sitting together on the couch doing our coffee/wake-up thing, he came across this verse the other day in his Bible reading app:

Whoever heeds instruction is on the way to life, but whoever rejects a rebuke goes astray.

~Proverbs 10:17 (NRSV)

Since then that Proverb has been running around in my head in some sort of dance with all the other words in there. When I go to write something down, even if it’s my own private thoughts in a journal, there is usually at least a typo or two or a word scratched out. Even when the words come quickly and easily onto the page they don’t come perfectly. 

In the privacy of my home scratching out a word or idea doesn’t sting, it’s just part of the creative process, the hunt for words that mesh with the verbal picture I am trying to paint. A typo isn’t a reason for embarrassment, but a natural outcome of typing. In the privacy of my home I know I am not perfect, at least not on the first try.

I think of myself as a person eager to learn and grow as a person. Until someone other than myself or God points out my mistakes.

Why is this a problem? It’s not like there are not many who enjoy having their errors pointed out, I’m not alone in this.

Part of the problem is our culture. Out in the larger world there is a less friendly space to err. Typos on a blog are ridiculed. Scratched out words look like a mess. One mistake and you are labeled unredeemable.

But part of the problem is me. I don’t actively work to make it safe to correct me. 

I get defensive over typos and simple errors that do need correction. I’ve never been a great speller. It’s not like I can afford to pay an editor, I have five kids you know.

And while I am eager to learn, I am insecure at heart. I know many of my flaws but am afraid of having others point them out, even if it means I could work on them. I get scared of other people, afraid they will point out a part of myself that is a mess, someplace I've haven't yet begun to pull myself together.

Scared that maybe correction is rejection.

When Jesus walked the earth he talked to the people looking for wisdom about becoming like a child again. Jesus even went so far as to say we need to be born again.

What does that mean? For me, this day, it means I need to take a page from our youngest son. He’s never worried that if he trips and falls I will make fun of him. I know his feet or legs are growing and he’s constantly having to adjust for a changing body. There is no ridicule in our household for honest mistakes, there will be conversation and sometimes frustration, but not anger.

How does my son not walk around afraid of falling? He falls all the time. In fact he seems to relish his bruises.

Maybe it’s because my son also spends much of his day on or very near me. Maybe it’s because cuddled close after a fall he’s sure I love him.

When I’m far from God and I fall or someone corrects an honest mistake I act like a feral child. I snap at the hand that reaches out to help. In my fear I seek independence from everything and everyone.

When I sit on God’s lap, aware I am a child of God, when God’s arms are tight around me there is no room for the embrace of fear.

And I am better able to receive correction as I test out the world and falls as signs of growth.

He who is full loathes honey, but to the hungry even what is bitter tastes sweet.

~Proverbs 27:7 (NIV)

In my writing it’s easy to see this truth. When I’m hungry to learn and grow I push aside fear and submit my work to my peers to be critiqued. Typos don’t even register as something to be up in arms over. I want to grow. I want to make the best use of this gift I have been given.

This is my prayer for the week:

May I always be hungry for you, God. May I never be satisfied with fear and hiding. Grant me the courage to climb into Your lap. In Your loving-mercy, wrap Your arms around me. Fill me with an awareness of Your presence. 

I want to walk on the path of life.

Amen.

5 Tips To Recover After Travel

     Recently I attended the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference which involved five days away from the family.

     Before leaving was busy as I set up my husband to handle the kid’s activities, meals, and still work from home. I had a great week away working on the craft of writing and networking with great people. But it’s also a long week of job interviews and classes, and I came home tired. It got me thinking of our summer travel plans.
    

     Often I find myself frazzled after our summer fun. What are ways to make summer travel easier?
    
     Here’s 5 Tips to Recover After Travel (so you don’t die or kill your family)

1. Set up at least one dinner ahead of time for your return.

     I don’t know about you but the last thing I want to do when I get back from the beach or camping is cook dinner. Even if we get in late, well after the dinner hour, having a meal set up for the next day at home is a Godsend. The first full day back is usually spent unloading backpacks and suitcases, doing laundry and settling back into the home. And I’m usually exhausted.

     Why not cook something ahead of time?

     Meals I like to set up so I don’t have to do more than cook fresh rice or pasta are:

Chili - Chili can be frozen in quantity, I just stick mine into the freezer in a big plastic tub, and tastes great reheated. A simple set up of the rice cooker and 45 minutes later I have a hot meal ready to serve on a day I didn’t feel like cooking.

Soup - Whenever I make a soup I always make a double batch. My husband and I both work to keep at least one meal of chicken noodle for seven in the freezer for these occasions. And because mom-is-sick-of-cooking happens even on a regular day.

Goulash - American goulash is a kid friendly twist on spaghetti. Goulash like this one here: Goulash, can be made ahead of time, just withhold the noodles until reheating. After the sauce is thawed and reheated just add the noodles directly to the sauce to cook. My kids love this dish with our gluten-free brown rice macaroni noodles and sprinkled with shredded cheese.

2. Have a quiet activity prepped for the first day home

     One of the downsides of a return home is everyone is fatigued. And tired kids are kids who pick fights with each other.

     Knowing this is going to happen I prep a simple activity ahead of time. I’m not a mom good at all the Pinterest worthy kids crafts, so by simple I mean I go and get a pack of inexpensive sidewalk chalk, bubbles, or a set of spiral bound art paper and new colored pencils.

     Anything that engages kids for at least a half hour and which I can bring out when people start to get on each other’s nerves.


3. Enforce a mandatory nap time. For everyone. That means you too.

     Traveling is an energy drain so plan time for extra rest on your return. Even if your kids are too old for naps (or think they are) everyone could use more down time after a trip. Set at least an hour or two after lunch your first full day home. Older children can bring books, paper and drawing supplies or a favorite toy, but everyone must be on their bed for the time you set.

     For my kiddos with difficulty not talking and bugging their roommate-sibling I remind them their time doesn’t start until they stop talking.

     Even if reality with parenting five kids is I don’t get more than a power 15-20 minute nap, I can rest, or at least enjoy the temporary quiet and get up ready to take on the household again.


     What things do you do to recover after a trip?

What Does It Take To Win The Lottery?

Doesn’t it sound so easy? 

Just go out and buy a small paper ticket for three dollars, hardly enough to buy a gallon of gas these days, then poof! 

I too could be a millionaire.

Except we all live in the real world where adulting needs to happen and really winning the lottery looks like this:

Feel God is calling me to write a book

Get mad at God about the ridiculousness of that notion because I have five kids. Five! Where would I find the time?

What. The. Heck.

Get stubborn and decide to prove God wrong, that I can’t write a book, and start writing a book.

Realize after four months of writing for two hours once a week that I am in fact writing a book.

Freak out.

Finish writing a book in about nine months. How did this happen?

Sit for two weeks feeling like I am THE American Ninja Writing Warrior-mom for writing a book.

          Take a brief glance at what it takes to publish my awesomeness.

           Freak out.

Start editing book while I absorb the fact the average new writer writes five manuscripts before they ever publish even one.

Still editing.

How much time does it really take to edit?

Two months later ask friends to help me edit.

Start begging for friends to help me edit.

Join a local writer’s critique group.

Eight readers and six months later realize my manuscript will now be rejected in 15 seconds rather than 10.

Go to my first writer’s conference.

Fast forward one year. Still sneaking moments to write and realizing just how much work goes into a winning ticket.

We all wish people would throw money at us, that instant success we didn’t really earn. In order to win the writers-life lottery I have to give up another more sacred dream than my dream of being a published author.  

 

My real dream is this: 

  

Success doesn’t take work.

I’m about to head off to what will be my fourth writer’s conference, the Blue Ridge Christian Writer’s Conference, picking my way slowly toward my dream. By the law of averages I need to finish my two manuscripts-in-progress, and then start and finish another two manuscripts in the next four years before I maybe get that golden ticket: my first manuscript sale. The idea of the wait is daunting, but then so is the idea of the work involved.

These days with the shifting landscape of e-books, self-publishing, and print-on-demand writers can no longer afford to write the solitary novel while sitting in their introverted cave while dreaming up new universes.

These days being a writer means more than being a dreamer, it means being willing to work for a dream.

Being a writer means I have to go back to school, so to speak: The Writer’s Conference. Not just once. Nope. Again and again at $500-800 a pop.

Why? To learn to write better books. To learn how to edit my own work. To learn how to write 30 page reports on my books. To learn how sell myself. To learn how to turn my self and writing into a brand. To learn how to market. To learn…

To learn success isn’t instant and to decide if I am going to apply my stubborn strength to writing or give into my fears.

The easy path would be to sit at home and bemoan the entire writing industry that doesn’t recognize my obvious creative genius. 

Or I can take the road less traveled in walking miles of humility.

How much money has my family sacrificed for me to go back to writer’s schools? Five kids; for us that’s not extra money just lying around waiting for a use. Am I worth it? I’m scared to death of this next writers conference. Even after attending three conferences the idea of having my work critiqued makes my stomach drop and my hands shake. Will I take the extra steps to put myself out there despite my fear?

How patient am I? I have another 15 months of plodding along in my writing until my youngest is in kindergarten. We can’t afford day care for him, which is fine; I can work at enjoying what will be the only fourth year of life he will ever get and writing in stolen moments. Having two teenagers I know how fast this time of snuggles and belly laughs and tantrums and stomping his feet flies. Wait. Oh yeah, still living that last part with the olders.

Someday this time in my life of wanting to write more and not having the time will slowly melt into having the time and facing the discipline of daily writing. I’m sure I will look back with nostalgia at this year and think I had it easy.

Am I willing to give up my grass-is-greener lottery ticket mentality in order to face my future with courage?

Pray for me. I’ll let you know which path I chose after Blue Ridge.

What steps can you take in the next week to work toward your dream?