If I dug ditches for a living, every day I’d show up to work. And whether I felt like it or not, I’d pick up a shovel and start digging. But because I think and write for a living, it’s not that simple. At this moment, even this post is a way for me to avoid getting down to the sometimes excruciating work of writing a sermon. It’s relentless. It’s sometimes mind-numbing. In emotionally difficult weeks like this one, it seems like more than I can even think about.
By the end of my high school public speaking class, we had worked our way up to giving a speech that was a whole ten minutes long. That assignment felt impossible to me. I remember thinking, “How on earth am I going to think of ten minutes worth of stuff to say on any topic? God, please kill me now.”
Last Sunday’s sermon timed in at about 45 minutes. That was longer than I like to preach, but still, every week I’m cranking out about 30-35 minutes worth of material. New insights and perspectives are called for every week. That demands more reading to feed the brain. It demands an uncluttered soul so one can concentrate. And that’s what makes it hard. Sometimes the hardest work in writing (which is the hardest part of sermon prep) is uncluttering the soul before one starts.
That is what I have attempted to do by posting two blog entries. Now if you’ll excuse me…
5. Failing to save kids from themselves. Years ago when our girls were small, I had been burning the candle at both ends, working, going to graduate school, and raising the kids. My wife asked me one evening when I was planning on taking a day off. I brushed her off, but she kept asking, and wouldn’t let it go. Finally I got angry and said, “Why do you keep harping on this?” She gently smiled and took both of my hands in hers, looked me deeply in the eyes, and said, “Because you need me to.” She was right. I didn’t realize it at the time, but she was right. I needed her to save me from myself. Parents, our kids need us to do that for them. We can’t let them set the agenda for their lives. We have to set limits for them: bedtimes, screening certain movies before they watch them, deciding certain movies and TV shows are simply off limits, making them bear down and do their homework, curfews — these things are simply essential if we are going to keep our children from making choices that could mess up their lives. Parents, if you don’t save your kids from themselves, who’s going to? Continue Reading…
This post is entirely selfish. It has nothing to do with any of the things I normally blog about. I’m just proud of my little brother.
My brother Dan is president and CEO of the Akron-Canton Regional Foodbank. He is a model of excellence in everything he does there. This year, finally, he received the recognition he has deserved for years. If you know Dan, you’ll love watching this. If you don’t, I think it will inspire you. I may be the only person on earth who knows how hard Dan has worked not just at the foodbank but on becoming the person you see accepting that award. The love, the humility, the joy, the spontaneity — all of these things come from immense challenges Dan has stepped up to meet day after day. He is an inspiration to me and to all who know him, not because his challenges are unique, but because they are so common to all of us, and he does what it takes to overcome.
The woman speaking at the beginning is Vicki Escarra, CEO of Feeding America, the national network to which most foodbanks belong. Vicki began her career as a flight attendant for Delta Airlines and worked her way up to being a top executive at Delta, before accepting the job at Feeding America. These are quality people doing quality work. I have had the pleasure of meeting many food bank presidents and other employees and have been deeply impressed with their passion for their work.
I’m plumbing my kitchen sink. It’s the worst, hardest, most frustrating thing I have ever done. Seriously. I know these days it’s popular to speak in the most extreme terms possible:
“That was the greatest movie ever.” “That test was the worst.” “I have a headache that is killing me.”
Please don’t think I’m doing that. I hate this with a passion I’ve never hated anything before. I even hate it beyond any interest in finding some kind of spiritual point in it, which I usually manage to do with most things. I hate it to the point where I’m sitting on my kitchen floor almost laughing sometimes (one of those evil laughs like you hear in the movies), because it is a better alternative than crying, ripping my brand new counter-top apart, yelling at one of my girls, getting really, really drunk (which would make it even harder to fix the sink), sticking my head in a blender, etc.
Funny how suffering is relative. I know some people right now who are literally suffering the worst thing that could ever happen in a family – the slow, horrible death of one of the family members. I realize that compared to suffering like that, what I’m going through is barely worthy of mention. Okay, it’s not worthy of mention at all. Normally that realization would put my emotions in proper perspective. Not this time. All I can think about is that no matter how much that situation sucks, plumbing my kitchen sink sucks too. I know it doesn’t suck half as bad, or in anywhere near the same way, but that doesn’t change the fact that it deeply, truly, genuinely, sincerely, completely, thoroughly sucks. [For those of my church brethren who are offended by my use of the word, "sucks," please accept my apologies. It blows.]
Tomorrow I will again spend the day in the official “standing on my head” plumber position. (Of course you don’t know this, but it’s the position from which I’m typing at this moment.) Who knows, some of my family members might even have to start reminding me to say no to crack.
Writing had been going great up until last Wednesday. Suddenly I found myself losing my way. I completed chapter six and was excited, but I got distracted. I started thinking about getting my proposal finished.
“If I could just get this stupid proposal done and get an agent, he/she could be shopping this book around to publishers while I’m finishing the content.”
“It often takes a long time to get an agent. I’d better try to nail that down while I’m on sabbatical.”
“How are you going to get your proposal finished? You don’t have enough writing experience.” So I spent an afternoon writing an article for a magazine and sending it out.
“You read the other day that non-fiction writers often don’t need agents but can go straight to the publisher. Should you try that? How does that work?”
“Your opening chapter isn’t strong enough. It doesn’t grab the reader’s attention. You need to revise that chapter.” Re-wrote chapter one yesterday.
“Your proposal is too weak. You need to prove that you know the market better.” Spent the rest of yesterday beefing up the proposal.
“You’re lost, dude. You need advice.” Spent time last night scouring the Internet looking for written advice, or for organizations that help writers learn the process.
Woke up this morning feeling overwhelmed and paralyzed. Had five minutes to talk to my wife so I shared this with her and she said, “Write your book. Just finish the chapters. You can do all that other stuff later, but the one thing you can do right now is keep getting stuff on paper.”
She was right. And so the solution, again, is to keep writing.
In the meantime I have made some exciting progress this past week. I wrote to a popular spiritual writer and asked if she would consider reading my book (once I find a publisher) and writing an endorsement for me. Endorsements are a big deal for a book. Every endorsement carries with it a group of people who recognize and trust the writer of that endorsement and will buy it on that person’s recommendation. Anyway, a few days later she got back to me and said she is willing to do that. Doesn’t mean she’ll endorse it, but she is willing to read it and if she thinks the book is good she will write the endorsement. That’s exciting.
Also, this past week I secured a name and email address of someone at an agency. I am not ready to send in a proposal yet, but it’s great to have this information on recommendation of someone I trust who knows the business a bit better than I do.
What do you do when you are losing your way? Keep doing what you know. Refuse to remain paralyzed.
My name is David Flowers. I am pastor of Wildwind Community Church in Flint, MI. I am a licensed counselor, and I teach part-time in Spring Arbor University's graduate programs in counseling and family studies. I write mostly about counseling, the church, and spiritual topics, with some pop culture and miscellaneous stuff thrown in. Feel free to join the conversation!
