The Messy Middle

where grace and truth reside

Ending Chapters, Learning lessons, Looming Transitions

Nature’s Classroom: Do I Contradict Myself?

My friend Mikkin belongs to a local Mothers of Preschoolers—MOPS—group. Last December she invited me to share on the role of holiday traditions can enhance your family. Well let’s just say I was memorable, but not because of my subject matter.

I made an absolute fool of myself during Christmas Carol Charades.

Screaming Away in a Manger!!!!!!!!!!!! was a small window into my competitive side.

So, when Mikkin texted this summer asking if I would return and speak on how parents can help their kids with transitions, I lept at the chance to make a new impression. And since I wrote a book on transitions, maybe they would realize I was not a lunatic song screamer, but a calm rational adult.

My plan worked, at least enough. I got a bit over-excited a couple of times. But can anyone blame me? When I think of what is at stake when it comes to transitions, the amount of transitions woven into normal life, and how with a little bit of intentionality they can equip their children for life . . . I start to think of the generational ripple effect for their kids if they learn to navigate and process transitions, well the voice in my head said, “Sweetie, calm down.”

I did. But transitions are back on my radar.

Saturday Shelly Miller, author of Rhythms of Rest: Finding the Spirit of Sabbath in a Busy World, spoke at an event in Denver.

We had met on line when I first became a blogger, but we are now, “in the flesh” friends. During the event, she had us go outside and spend five minutes writing down what we heard and then five minutes writing down what we heard from God.

I highly recommend you try it. Listening with your ears prepares your soul to listen to God.

Unseasonably cold, I braved sitting outside and sat by bushes that were in the process of changing color.Take a moment and scroll through these pictures. Using the lens of transtions, what do you notice?

 

 

Even within ourselves, we will transition at different paces.

One leaf may be mostly green, but then the tip was bright red. Another leaf was green except for one section. Or the leaf that the edge was red. Lessons from leaves.

It’s true isn’t it? When I moved back to the U.S. I found my place at the gym before I found my vocational place. I felt at home cheering for the Broncos long before I felt at home in the church. Even now, parts of me are not the same color. Yet like these leaves, maybe my own beauty is enhanced by allowing the seasons to be what they are. By seeing that one being can hold more than one story. And that God does not write binary stories. This or that. No, his specialty? The messy middle.

Ending Chapters, Faith, Messier than normal

Unlikely Containers Holding Your Story

Years ago, standing in our parent’s basement one of my sisters wondered what it would be like to deal with all of our dad’s paperwork. While not a hoarder in other areas, every piece of paper the man had touched through his life, he kept.

In that moment, the Lord gave me this insight: All this paper is more than paper, it is the container of your dad’s story.

Tax records going back decades were not kept in case of being audited. No, they were kept as a record. A record that said, “I was here, I took care of my family, I held a job, I gave to my church and charities. I invested myself in what matters in this world.” I can tell you this is not what my tax records mean to me because I do not keep my story in tax records.

Oddly, though a non-car person, my story is held, in part, by the cars I have owned.

As a college graduation present, my parents got me a car. It was love at first sight! She was a  red Dodge Shadow and had an air spoiler and a strip down her side. In sixth grade I was cast as Margot Lane in a radio play about The Shadow; so, her name was Margot.

My education program was completed with a year of student teaching and graduate classes. Margot drove me out to Perry Middle School in rural Kansas. We had our first near death experience along those roads. She drove me to South Junior High where I learned to love teaching Algebra. And from South Junior High we hurried to the University of Kansas where I taught ESL to students from around the world as I completed my Master’s Degree.

During the summers we spent hours together driving home to Denver. And then hours apart as she sat in a parking lot while I taught English and fell in love with China. After several years of teaching in Kansas and summers in China, Margot watched as my dad helped load a U-Haul to take my worldly possessions back to Denver to live for two years in my sister’s basement.

Dad headed off to Denver and Margot and I hit the road for a detour through Wichita. A dear friend had donated a kidney to her brother and I wanted to visit her one last time before I moved to China.

Because I was only going to China for two years, it seemed silly to sell her. So I didn’t.

I do not know where my story would have been stored if I had sold her. I am also not sure when she became the keeper of my story. All I know is that she did. Every time I returned to the U.S. she was there to drive me around and provide me with a sense of independence.

In the blink of an eye, nine years passed.

I returned to the U.S. on a study leave. Margot and I were united again. And again she drove me to school, to visit friends, to speak at churches. She heard me sing and bore silent witness to the tears I shed in the months leading up to another goodbye.

In the blink of an eye, three years passed.

I returned to China. My beloved Margot sat once more, waiting for me.

Whenever I returned to Denver, she was there. She provided me the gift of coming and going at will. But then one summer, it was obvious that Margot was aging and the time had come to do the unthinkable.

No one would have paid her true value and I could not bear to have her underappreciated. I called the local rescue mission and explained I had a car to donate. We set up an appointment for me to turn over the title, I had only one stipulation: You cannot take her until I have left for China. I cannot bear to see her drive away.

The pain cut so deep, it went beyond reason. I might have given my left arm to be able to keep her. And that’s when I hit me.

Margot held my story.

I loved living overseas. I thrived. But every now and then as I aged the twinge would come when I thought of siblings and peers who had houses and cars and other “normal” markers of adulthood. I had a passport full of stamps, yes. But I had nothing tangible to point to that indicated “Here is an adult. Here is a ‘real person.’”

Margot had been with me through my 20s and 30s. She was the one constant in a sea of change. While I lived a more nomadic existence, packing up after each year in China (another story for another time), at age 30 having life rhythms I had had at twenty, I would say to myself, “Don’t worry, I am a real adult, I own a car.”

Last week all of this flooded back.

Four years ago I moved back to the U.S. and bought another car. Much to everyone’s shock, after insisting on only buying red computers, red this, red that. She was blue. As a Honda Fit it seemed only fitting that she be called Fiona.

Cutting to the chase, she was pummeled in a colossal hail storm in May. Last week she was deemed totaled. This had not occurred to me when I casually dropped her off the end of August. On the phone with the insurance who went over the details and what I would be paid and steps I need to take, she casually asked if I needed to get an any personal items out of the car before she was reclaimed at the repair place. Of course I do you idiot. (Only part said out loud.)

I still own nothing but a car as a sign of adulthood. And now that which held my story for the last four years, is no longer mine.

My story will go on. God at work in and through me, to be sure.

But I am left wondering who will keep the story now? And why can the cost of the call sneak up? Will Fiona’s new owner know what she is capable of?

Love, Amy is on sale today for only $5 on Kindle because Love, Amy reminds me of Margot. It is a privilege to share these stories.

It may not be taxes, paper, or cars, but in his mercy, God uses ordinary things of this world to help hold your story. What is it for you? 

A version of this first appeared on A Life Overseas.

Faith, Just for fun

Marching Bands and Missionaries: Same-Same

(Hey friends! Robin Reads has the Kindle version of Looming Transitions on sale for .99 TODAY, so I put the Looming Transitions Workbook on sale for $1 for 24 hours. Amy)

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This truth hit me smack between the eyes.

I didn’t see it coming. I’m not sure I like it. (Hello, one seems fun but maybe a bit shallow and the other purposeful, deep, you know, important.)

But the truth is marching bands and missionaries are basically the same.

It is marching band camp season in the US. With an oldest niece as the drum major and a second niece is in the percussion section (her first year), let’s just say that the insight marched up to me.

Here is how marching bands and missionaries are basically the same

1. Regional flavors exist. Here is the U.S. it turns out that band in Iowa, Colorado, and Texas are, um, not the same. Mission work in Ghana, Thailand, and Brazil are, um, not the same.

2. The whole is made up of parts. Like other bands, marching bands are divided into sections. So, sometimes the flutes are off by themselves practicing their little fluty hearts out. Other times, the entire band is together working on their show. You, dear missionary, may be a part of a team, a city team, a region, and maybe even a much larger organization. If you get together for annual or bi-annual meetings, it’s kind of like seeing the show that God is working out through your different efforts.

3. The work is same-same, but different. Every year the marching band learns a new show. They do not pull out the show from the year before and dust it off. No, they learn a completely new show. Now, they are, for the most part, playing the same instruments, wearing the same outfits, and marching with the same marching techniques. Here is where missions can learn from marching bands: are you working on a new show? Or are you pulling out last year’s show? Worse yet, have you been playing the same show for the last four years. If you are bored, of course check with the Holy Spirit, but perhaps, you’ve been putting new wine in old wine skins, so to speak.

4. New members come each year. The nature of a marching band is that the commitment is four years, so that means every year there are newbies in with oldies. There are those who are familiar with what they are doing with those who are just learning. There are those who have never marched before and learning to march is actually harder than it looks. We are in a season of welcoming folks new to the field. It is exciting but,

5. Getting everyone’s feet going up at the same time and height takes a lot of practice. You do about 10 steps over and over. Most common word heard in this phase? “Reset!” Oh that everyone just got it right away. Instead, you reset and do it again. Which leads me to . . .

6. It can be less glamorous than it appears. What do most people see? Your marching band performance. Costumes, props, music, precision. What do they not come to watch? The three hours you were out on the practice field where you might spend a whole morning on 20 seconds of the show. When it comes to missions, what do most people hear about? The dramatic, the annoying (hello visas, I’m talking about you), the moving. Which can perpetuate the myth that everything we do is so fascinating we are basically floating through life.

7. Growing pains. Bands do not stay the same size year after year. Three years ago, the band was made up of 40 members. (Side note: it is impressive that a small band can produce a show as impressive as a band with hundreds. Size isn’t the key factor, committed members is.) Obviously this is a small marching band. This year, there are 70 members. Exciting? Yes. But that means the majority haven’t been a part of the band for more than one year. In a few years it could grow back to 50 or so. Bands do not stay the same size, and chances are neither has your organization or the number in your country of service.

8. The curse of history. Want to know who gave my drum major niece the most problems a few days during band camp? The returning members.

Stop and pause on that one for a moment.

They have won state for five years in a row. They had a beloved band director retire over a year ago. Last year was the first year for the new (and talented) new director. There was a bit of bemoaning the good old days (“Why did you bring us out here to starve? We had it better in slavery in Egypt!.)

9. The blessing of history. With returning members and a history of state championships, the band isn’t starting from scratch every year. Instead they are standing on the shoulders of those who have gone before. They are adding to a story that started before them and will continue after they graduate.

10. In the end, it is worth it. Both marching bands and missions are about something bigger. Something that is living and dynamic. Something that pushes you to the limit physically without guarantees of glory. Something that offers a common purpose, fellow sojourners, and the chance to be a part of something that might not look like much on the ground, but the view from above? Now, that is something to behold.

Were you in a band? What did playing in a band teach you about missions? What instrument did you play?

This first appeared on A Life Overseas

Personality, Summer Reading Challenge

4 ways to respond to criticism

Thank you to all who participated in the Summer 2017 Reading Challenge! This year, we were international baby. People participated from Africa, Asia, Central America, all around the U.S. Maybe more. We clocked over 150 books. Good jus us! Winners have been notified; if you didn’t win, Summer 2018 with new categories will be here before you know it. I had so much fun!

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Last week a friend emailed me this question:

So writer question for you. I am thinking and praying about writing eventually, like as a career or side job, but aside from the fact that I have no idea if I have the talent of course, I am super sensitive to criticism. Not out of ego, more like I just take everything personally, I’m way too insecure! I’m working on it. How do or did you handle rejection as a writer? Or do you have any words of wisdom on that, if you haven’t faced rejection?

If only! Criticism is a part of life. But not all criticism is the same. Part of living well in the messy middle is to create enough space for your brain to kick in and evaluate which type it is so you can respond accordingly.

1. The criticism that is more like indifference. You aren’t important enough to even engage. Some people never respond to something I have written . . . I’ll submit a post or a book proposal and then — crickets. It stings a little, but not too bad.

2. The criticism that is points out a truth I know, but in a humorous way. Not that the critic means to be funny, but I take it that way. Some people will comment on something I’ve written, something like, “Amy, you are a little too . . . “ whatever for that post. Usually, there is something funny about it. Because, yes, yes I am a bit over the top at times, or whatever. These I can shrug off. Larry, will always stand out as my first critic I didn’t know. In response to The Mother’s Day Post he emphatically ended with “My dear, Life is not about YOU.” Um, newsflash Larry, I know that :).

Oh, and on Looming Transitions? The person who said it should be called Transitions for Dummies, not sure why, but this cracks me up.

3. But then, sometimes pa critic hits below the belt. I have been called very selfish, ungrateful, mean, not Godly, and other things that in the context of the comment really hurt. And they bounced around inside of me. On one blog, where I was a guest post, the host did not stand by me while her people treated me like crap. After replying to about 200 comments and taking hit after hit, God said, “Okay, that is enough, you don’t have to engage any more.” I’m working on these voices having less space in my head :). Working on it!!

4. The final category those who give feedback out of support for me or a project. My editor BLEEDS on my work. Oh my word. Everytime I am shocked how many errors or suggestions there are :). With her, I remind myself that every cut or comment is motivated out of love for me and the desire for my writing to be the best it can be. She says nothing out of malice or to hurt me. She is for me and the project and is helping to make it better. When I listen to her, I end up sounding more like me. This is the paradox of criticism.

So, I wrote back to my friend, this is a long answer that not all criticism is the same :). I try to step back and see which bucket it is in and to not give all criticism equal weight.

How do you handle criticism? 

Book, Summer Reading Challenge

Summer 2017 Reading Challenge is Over {Enter and win}

The day that we have all been longing for is here :)! The end of the Summer 2017 Reading Challenge. Like runners at the end of a race, maybe you have stumbled across the finish line and are now collapsed and gasping for air.

But once you catch your breath, HIGH FIVE TO YOU! You made it! I made it! We made it! On Tuesday as I checked into the gym, I chatted with the front desk gal about what I had going on this week. I mentioned writing this post about the end of our Summer Reading Challenge ad told her the goal was 7 books, but that I had read 16 books. A trainer standing next to her looked at me like I am an alien and asked, “Do you have a job?!”

Ha!!! I do. But these challenges help me live into the person I want to be. So, I repeat. HIGH FIVES all around! We made it.

Well, how did it go? Remember, in The Summer Reading Challenge the goal was to read seven books between June 1 and August 17th. You enter for one of the ten $10 Amazon gift cards by leaving a comment on this post. Even if you didn’t read seven, still share what you read! This isn’t really a contest so much as a chance to share and a chance to see how many books we read collectively.

I’m going to put the categories here if you want to cut and paste them into the comments. Also feel free to just list books, whatever works for you.

  1. A book related to professional development (can be loosely interpreted).
  1. A book that helps you understand part of history better.
  1. A book placed in a country you’re not familiar with OR about a country you’re not familiar with.
  1. A YA book.
  1. A book recommended by a friend.
  1. A graphic novel.
  1. A book you’ve been meaning to read.
  1. A book published more than 100 years ago.
  1. A book recommended by a teenager.
  1. A biography.
  1. A play.
  1. A memoir
  1. A book by someone you might not spiritually agree with.
  1. A book that won an award.
  1. A book you read years ago and have meant to reread.
  1. A book that has been translated into English.
  1. A book that is more than 700 pages  (counts for two books!)
  1. A mystery.
  1. A book related to a skill (like cooking, writing, photography, or web-design).
  1. A book by an author you know. 

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1. A book related to professional development (can be loosely interpreted).

Option B: Facing Adversity, Building Resilience, and Finding Joy by Sheryl Sandberg and Adam Grant. Sheryl’s husband dropped dead on the basketball court, dropping her into Option B for her life. Interested in learning about fostering resilience? This book is for you.

The Advantage: Why Organizational Health Trumps Everything Else In Business by Patrick Lencioni. A must read. One of the best reads of the summer. Life is messy and hard, yes. But that doesn’t mean we are helpless. Highly skilled people are not the primary advantage, organizational health is. Again, a must read for your family, team, church, non-profit, or job.

Emotional Agility: Get Unstuck, Embrace Change, and Thrive in Work and Life by Susan David. If you find yourself stuck in a pattern of thinking or behaving that isn’t helping you? This books will help.

2. A book that helps you understand part of history better.

Boxers and Saints by Gene Luen Yang. This two book graphic novels brilliantly tells the Boxer Rebellion in China (1900) from both the side of the Boxers and a Chinese convert to Christianity (Saint). If history really isn’t your bag, maybe try coming in through the side door of the graphic novel.

4. A Young Adult (YA) book. 

Symphony for the City of the Dead: Dmitri Shostakovich and the Siege of Leningrad by M. T. Anderson. From Amazon: “This is the true story of a city under siege: the triumph of bravery and defiance in the face of terrifying odds. It is also a look at the power—and layered meaning—of music in beleaguered lives. Symphony for the City of the Dead is a masterwork thrillingly told and impeccably researched by National Book Award–winning author M. T. Anderson.” Longest siege in recorded history (872 days) and more people died in this siege than all of American and British deaths. Fascinating and disturbing.

5. A book recommended by a friend.

The Road from Coorain by Jill Ker Conway. Okay, so half read in May, half after the challenge began. My friend (and also an author) Kay Bruner recommended this memoir for the Velvet Ashes book club. From Amazon, “Conway spent her first 11 years in the windswept grasslands of Australia, where her father owned 30,000 acres of arid land. Though his ability to understand the land was extensive, an eight-year drought finally defeated him, and he comitted suicide. A few years later, Conway’s oldest brother died in an automobile accident. The two deaths plunged her mother into depression. Out of this tale of hard work, drought, and sorrow, Conway emerges with character and personal strength.”

6. A graphic novel.

American Born Chinese by Gene Luen Yang. From Amazon: “Jin Wang starts at a new school where he’s the only Chinese-American student. When a boy from Taiwan joins his class, Jin doesn’t want to be associated with an FOB like him. Jin just wants to be an all-American boy, because he’s in love with an all-American girl. Danny is an all-American boy: great at basketball, popular with the girls. But his obnoxious Chinese cousin Chin-Kee’s annual visit is such a disaster that it ruins Danny’s reputation at school, leaving him with no choice but to transfer somewhere he can start all over again.”

7. A book you’ve been meaning to read.

Ugh. The ONE book I started this whole challenge last summer to read? Still have not read. Sigh :).

9. A book recommended by a teenager. 

Shackleton: Antarctic Odyssey by Nick Bertozzi. My oldest niece read this last summer and recommended it to me. Bonus, this is a graphic novel and read quickly. If you want a quick, light read about Shackleton, this is a good place to start. If you want more, try Endurance: Shackleton’s Incredible Voyage.

12. A memoir.

Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis by J.D. Vance. Wow. I had to keep reminding myself that J.D. is YOUNGER than me. I was not reading the life of someone from a different era. He writes beautifully honest about the hillbilly culture he was able to escape. One takeaway? Do not underestimate the power of one person (his grandma) to change a life.

Darkness Visible: A Memoir of Madness by William Styron. If someone you know and love has experienced or experiences depression and you don’t, this memoir is for you. Styron is able to verbalize his experience in such a way that you will go, “Oh, wow, it’s like that?” A short, but powerful read.

13. A book by someone you might not spiritually agree with.

Letters to a Young Muslim by Omar Saif Ghobash. I discovered this book in the library trying to find a book by or about the Dalai Lama. Ghobash is interesting because he is half-Russian, half-UAE, studied in London, and is now the ambassador to Russia from the UAE. These letters were written to his sons. He seems more of a moderate muslim. It wasn’t a bad read, but didn’t really help me understand a perspective that different from a western educated person.

14. A book that won an award.

The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry: A Novel by Rachel Joyce. It won the UK National Book Award for New Writer of the Year 2012.“You have to love Harold Fry, a man who set out one morning to mail a letter and then just kept going. . . . Like Christian in John Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress, Harold becomes Everyman in the eyes of those who encounter him. . . . Harold’s journey, which parallels Christian’s nicely but not overly neatly, takes him to the edge of death and back again. It will stick with you, this story of faith, fidelity and redemption.”—Minneapolis Star Tribune. I’m a fan of Harold! If you liked A Man Called Ove: A Novel, this is your kind of book.

16. A book that has been translated into English. 

Speaking of . . . A Man Called Ove: A Novel by Fredrik Backman. I am 75% through re-reading this book. We are reading it for the Velvet Ashes book club and loving it!

17. A book that is more than 700 pages (counts for two books!)

Double UGH. See #7

19. A book related to a skill (like cooking, writing, photography, or web-design).

Is finding readers a skill for a writer? I think so :). The Prosperous Writer’s Guide to Finding Readers: Build Your Author Brand, Raise Your Profile, and Find Readers to Delight by Honoree Corder. 

20. A book by an author you know. 

Flee, Be Silent, Pray: An Anxious Evangelical Finds Peace with God through Contemplative Prayer by Ed Cyzewski. I loved this book. Though I didn’t come out of the Catholic tradition, I found Ed to be a fellow companion in seeking to add contemplative practices to his life.

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You can see I didn’t read in every category and I’m drawn to non-fiction more than fiction. Next summer I’m going to make better categories to encourage novel reading :). Seriously? Why didn’t I read a novel or a play? Why can I not pass up a memoir (I didn’t include all I read because I am an addict and this is embarrassing).

I come back to this not being a contest, if you read four books and that was your goal, great! I just find that I’m more likely to accomplish my goals if I tell people what they are.

I can’t wait to see what you’ve been reading. I’ll pick winners next Tuesday so you have time this weekend to leave a comment.

Thank you for joining in!

Amy

P.S. I have a little something up my sleeve for us in September :). Are you curious? Ha!—That was a clue.

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Faith, Personality

Using my free pass

*I apologize if you get this emailed to you two days in a row. I transferred servers yesterday (blah, blah computer talk) after posting this and then this post disappeared. The only solution was to repost it. But from here on out, blog problems I’ve been having should be solved. And the crowds rejoiced!

When I was a junior high math teacher each student received a “free pass” on the first day of the quarter. The pass was theirs to use when they were not able to get their homework done. I didn’t care the reason, if they had run out of time, had a late night at a sporting event, or simply forgot to do their homework, the pass spared me as their teacher from having to listen to at least a little bit of the junior high drama.

I had some of the students for eight quarters in a row and here is where it got interesting, Without fail, a few of the kids used the pass the very next day. The very next day! What?! Why wouldn’t you want to save it? (You can clearly see my wiring).

Others used it sprinkled throughout the quarter.

A few saved the free pass to the very last day of the quarter and used it like a veteran poker player who was getting away with something.

But a few—without fail—never used the pass.

Responsibility and time management skills are admirable. And no doubt those kids probably went on to become capable and dependable employees.

In many ways I can relate to those kids. What if this is the one math assignment that if I don’t do I will become so lost I’ll fail the test and then my grade will be tanked for this quarter?! I better do it.

A few nights ago I was watching a rerun of Major Crimes and the teenage character Rusty Beck said with disgust after he beat a chess opponent, “You call yourself a specially trained operative, but you only think of two moves ahead of you when you play.”

Lightbulb moment.

Those who live life playing too many moves ahead never use their free pass. That which is a useful skill in chess can hamper you if taken too far in life. It is too risky to stop and smell the roses because you never know what will happen if you lift off of the gas pedal.

I am finding myself in a season of few words.

After the words flowing effortlessly for several years, I sit here wondering what to say. I have ideas, I have thoughts, but I don’t have the drive to put them down. The words I do have are going to Velvet Ashes (especially the book club.Click here to see a list of all the books we’ve read) and A Life Overseas (this ismy most recent post). In one writer’s group, my goal for the summer has been not to start a new book now that Love, Amy released. I actually had to make that my goal! Forging ahead is second nature to me.

Using my free pass and trusting that I will not starve and be homeless when I am old is not.

But I sense God sitting at the far side of the lake, smiling at me, asking me to join Him. Will I use the free pass and trust that if I write here a little bit less, it will all be okay in the end?

I’ll be back for the end of the Summer Reading Challenge. Here is a pro-tip for free: feeling behind? Read a graphic novel. I read four in the time it would have taken to read one non-graphic novel :). So, when you see my numbers later this month, don’t be too impressed. Ha! Graphic novels are good summer reading. August 17th is still a ways off, you’re not too late.

This is me, using my free pass. Apparently I am drawn to animals.

See you in a few weeks :).

Amy

How about you? When teachers gave you a free pass, did you use it right away? Never? On the last day? How does your wiring influence the free passes life offers us?

#DistractedByBeauty, Velvet Ashes

Savoring Life One Firefly at a Time

Hello friends! This week the theme at Velvet Ashes is Savor.

I love the word savor. It evokes a slowing down and presence that counters many of the other voices around me.

So this week I have been trying to savor life and tune into those moments I enjoy. As a girl, I loved to visit my grandparents in Michigan and catch fireflies in the magical time between dinner and bed. My sisters and I giggled as our parents and grandparents enjoyed the cooling of the air. Then we would release them.

Savoring life is like catching a firefly. Enjoy. Release.

This week I savored these moments:

1.  I shared on Facebook that I fixed two broken sprinkler heads. Woot woot! “I just wish I could tell Dad.” I said to Mom. There is no one who would smile larger at the accomplishments of his daughters. I now know how to fix sprinkler head and almost—almost—want another one to break so I can fix it :).

2. Flowers!!! Tis the season to pick and make bouquets. I am savoring the colors of this season. The variety. The beauty.

3. This flower bed. For the last three years I’ve tried different plants and arrangements, but none quite satisfied. Until now.

4. Flavors of a new favorite dish. Ground turkey, onions, and peppers cooked in some kind of fish sauce. Okay, so while I may not be much of a food describer, it is good people. Trust me.

5. The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry: A Novel by Rachel Joyce. SO GOOD. Love this book. It is one to savor (also, the parallels with A Man Called Ove: A Novel. I might have, oh say, stalked my mom and bored her with all of my thoughts. She may not have savored that conversation :)).

6. Birds!! We have recently put up a two-sided bird feeder holder. On the left, chickadees, blue jays, and other birds (yup, not only do I speak pathetic foodie language, my bird knowledge is lacking. Never let a lack of knowledge get in the way of savoring!). On the right, humming birds are now dining. And dive bombing the chickadees, blue jays, and other birds. Who knew these little guys were so aggressive. I took this photo and then almost didn’t share because it isn’t very professional. And then I remembered, “Amy, of course it is not very professional, you are not a professional photographer.” Ah, the ways we hold ourselves to ridiculous standards. The bird on the top left? A chickadee. The one in the middle? A decorative fake bird.

7. Blaster boats. Basically a big inner tube connected to a motor and the ability to spray water on fellow boaters. Blaster boats were a niece’s requested birthday activity. Spraying family members? Celebrating birthdays? Savor, savor, savor. And maybe scream a bit when hit with water. I’m just saying that screams may have come out of me. More like shrieks.

8. Paperwork. I cannot believe it, but there is still paperwork to go through! In all fairness to my dad, the small pile I found this week was mine. I had forgotten how much Dad and Mom did when I applied and was accepted to Denver Seminary. Since I lived in China at that time and the government required FAFSA stuff for financial aid, there was much I needed them to do. It is good to savor a taste of kindness from the past.

9. I work with amazing people! Recently I have been forming and training people to help with Velvet Ashes. Sarah, Bayta, Kathryn, Dorette, Spring, Rachel, Abby, Raven, Hannah, Jen, and Jamie—working with you are real fireflies making Velvet Ashes a brighter place . . . and many don’t know. But I do. (As do others in VA leadership!).

10. I have been working like a mad woman this week because I will visit good friends for the next week. Savoring the sense of anticipation.

Where have you savored life this week? Until after vacation, Amy :)

Book, Summer Reading Challenge

Why you need a challenge

In truth this should be titled Why I need a challenge.

Short answer? To grow and change.

I know, I kind of hate it too. Oh that I would just do what was in my own best interesting without needing the gentle nudge or, if I keep ignoring signs, the harsh slap of a challenge.

I am now far enough into my “health challenge” to see the good that has come from it. Now, mind you, not all challenges come with silver linings, I get that. Some are awful tragedies and no amount of contortionist positive thinking can negate the awfulness. But, real tragedies are more the exception than the rule. Annoying case in point: without my health challenge, I would never have made changes to my diet that will probably pay off for decades to come.

It wasn’t knowledge that stood between me and change. I knew that I probably “should” cut back on sugars and maybe not eat as much bread or bagels as I was. But knowledge isn’t the best motivator. Enter a challenge, and suddenly that change I had been meaning to make was made.

You know this is the second summer for the Summer Reading Challenge.

If you are anything like me, when I announced the challenge I was flooded with endorphins and good feelings.

Yes! Yes! A reading challenge, count me in. I looked over the categories and made a mental plan.

And then I promptly went out and “accidentally stumbled upon” a memoir I must-read-right-now-or-die. Well, ain’t nobody got time for death, so I read it. And then I read another memoir and another.

Clearly I have a type.

Left to my own, I will read nonfiction book after nonfiction book, mixing memoir and other genres.

Joining this challenge myself forces me to read books I DO want to read. I really do. But without the nudge of the challenge, I—sigh—won’t. I wish I would. I want to be the kind of person who does all the right things all the time.

Cue the angelic laughter.

So, I called my niece and asked her about that graphic novel she read and some other Young Adult book she recommended a year ago. People, sometimes we just start somewhere. Armed with the two titles, I set off to the library in search of Symphony for the City of the Dead: Dmitri Shostakovich and the Siege of Leningrad and Shackleton: Antarctic Odyssey.

Looking for Shackleton: Antarctic Odyssey in the graphic novel section I stumbled upon a graphic novel about the Boxer Rebellion in China!!!!! What?! They make graphic novels about Chinese history? On impulse I checked out Boxers by Gene Leun Yang and discovered reading the cover that Part 2 of the series is Saints telling the missionary side of the Boxer Rebellion.

As if that wasn’t enough, I shared the above picture on Facebook and a friend linked this article from Christianity Today

Gene Yang: A Graphic Novelist Caught Between Two Worlds.

In full discloser, I haven’t actually read Boxers yet. But my sister Elizabeth has and then she got Yang’s American Born Chinese and texted me “Really liked it. Quite a fast read. I’ll keep it for you.”

So, I am going to read Boxers, Saints, and American Born Chinese.

And this is why you need this challenge. Left on your own, your thing may not be memoirs or nonfiction, but you have a thing. And you love your thing and that is good. But just look what you may be missing. This challenge has lead my family down a rabbit hole of graphic novels we never knew existed. Will I become a raving graphic novel reader?

Um, no. Not a chance.

But am I grateful that for my own good I’ve discovered an author I didn’t know and will learn about the Boxer Rebellion? Without hesitation, yes.

It is not too late to join in the challenge. It’s not too late for your own reading rabbit trails. It’s not too late to share this adventure with other readers. Challenges are good for us :).

What books have you read during this challenge that you might not have read otherwise? Share and let us check them out too.

Book, Love Amy

Grace and peace and zombies

We had a couple of days to kill after a conference ended  and before we needed to head back home—me to Beijing, and my friend Sherri to Hefei, Anhui, China—and had decided to spend it reading by the hotel pool.

Glorious!

I tend to be one of those readers that has several books going at once and jumps around in my reading.  Now, don’t think me overly spiritual, but I pulled out my bible to get a bit of a head start reviewing Revelation since my small group was going to study it. Seeing as Revelation is near one of my favorite books, I got distracted and read Philemon first.

“Grace to you and peace from God.” Familiar enough. So familiar I missed it. Until I read a variation in Revelation.

That night at dinner I struck up the stimulating dinner conversation on the phrase grace to you and peace from God with particular interest in the prepositions to and from, emphasizing them like that as I spoke . Yes, I even pulled out my bible and started flipping to different books wondering on the variations of the greeting.

Is it any surprise Sherri switched the subject to zombies?

Problem is, I have as much interest in zombies as she does in Pauline greetings. We ended up having the most bizarre, yet satisfying conversation in which I talked about prepositions, greetings, and the frequency in scripture and Sherri talked about zombies.

I don’t come from a tradition that “passes the peace” and though I’d read and studied many of Paul’s letters, I tend to skip over the introduction to get to the meatier stuff, viewing them more as a perfunctory version of “Dear Grandma and Grandpa, how are you? I’m fine.”

Grace to you and peace from God.

I’m ashamed to admit that this phrase has almost become like the teacher in Charlie Brown, “Wanh, wanh, wanh,wuh-wahn, wahn.”

Appearing 18 times in the New Testament, in one form or another, it’s easy to tune it out, rushing on to the good stuff. Turns out, it is the good stuff. The most common rendition is Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. The simplest is in 1 Thessalonians and simply Grace and peace to you. To Timothy, Paul includes “mercy” and Peter in his two letters adds “abundance,” reminding me that they too lived real lives with annoying people, financial pressures, and their own failings.

Paul, in his “I will not play one side against the other and we have got to figure this out. Like NOW” incorporates both Greek/gentile culture (grace) and Hebrew (peace). He refuses to use a separate greeting to each group, and enriches the tradition with a uniting and expanded greeting: both groups, all people really, need grace and peace.

Grace to you and peace from God.

I assumed this is the peace that passes all understanding and lands on us from God allowing us to be zombie-like in our interactions with people. Tra-la-la I can put up with you because I’m in my happy place. Maybe Sherri and I weren’t as far off in our conversation as it appeared.

Simply put, no. It’s not a zombie like attribute to be able to deal with those we encounter, be it friends, family members, foes, or strangers. Ours is a God not of escape, but of engagement.

Since that initial conversation I’ve researched and mulled over grace and peace. The order is significant. Grace and then peace. Grace given by God so that as we interact with one another, it’s not based on our own merit or goodness (Whew! Because if you’re anything like me, we’d be playing Russian roulette with what might come out me when left to my own). But if we leave it at grace, it’s easy to slip into the focus being on ourselves and experiences; adding “peace” brings the relational aspect into the mix as well.

Grace from God so that I can have peaceful interactions with others, with creation, with my possessions. Grace for the days my fuse is short or the internet is slow or someone is sick or someone says something annoying or doesn’t want to talk about what I want to talk about at dinner, wink. Peace in my response to that which God has invited me into.

Almost a year and half have passed since the grace, peace, and zombie’s dinner. Like a good zombie waking from the dead, this phrase is now alive for me, no longer a phrase to skim past, it bounces around in my soul and off my lips.

Grace to you and peace from God.

This post first appeared on Micha Boyett’s “One phrase” series. Love, Amy is a series of letters. While I”m no Paul in my letter writing ability, I am a fan of receiving letters.

Love Amy

Love, Amy: Behind the Scenes

Where does the story of a book actually begin? Does Love, Amy’s story start in 1992 when I wrote my first newsletter, raising funds for a summer in China? Or did she start in 1995, when I moved to China full-time and started writing monthly letters? Or did the book begin last May when I decided the time had come to put the letters into a book form? Or, final option, when I realized in November that Love, Amy would not be all my years on the field, instead, the book needed to end after nine years instead of containing all my years in China?

On this we can agree: Love, Amy did begin at some point. Because every book is different, her “coming to life” story is unlike Looming Transitions. I now see how “easy” Looming Transitions was and why she was a perfect first book for me. You might recall that LT is based on a seminar I designed and presented about six years in a row. Having taught on the content and gathered examples for years, she was a familiar friend. We went way back and were comfortable with each other. Though she contained bits of my story, she didn’t demand too much of me personally.

She let me sleep at night and wasn’t an unruly child. She gave me face and played nice with others. If this is what book writing is like, sign me up!

I thought. No scratch that, I assumed that because Love, Amy was mostly a combining of already written newsletters, she was practically written. The angels laughed and put their arms around me, knowing that I would need to be held in the ways of the well-meaning, delusional fools who walk head long into the ocean and wonder how long until they get to the other side.

Ignorance is bliss.

So, blissfully I pulled out the notebook that held my newsletters.

Okay, first problem, until maybe year six I had no digital copy of any letter. And starting in year six, I had about half of the letters in digital form. Not one year did I have a complete set of digital copies.

What’s that you say? I can’t hear you from the shoreline, asking if that might not be a sign of the choppy waters to come. Nope, I’ve got my back to you and am excited to learn about a dictation service — Rev.com. I love Rev.com. What it turns out I don’t love so much is the process of dictation :).

Starting last May, but really taking off last June, I dictated two or three letters a day. Every day I recorded the letters in a voice memo on my phone, emailed the memo to myself, uploaded it to Rev.com, paid based on how long the recording was, gave a few specific instructions (like “It is ‘Erin’ not ‘Aaron.'” Or “You spell it ‘Chengdu.'”) and waited. Often within a few short hours the transcript came back and I would read and clean up transcription errors. (Side note: cleaning up transcription errors is not my strong point.)

It was through this process that I came to see, “Wait, these aren’t just newsletters, Amy, you kind of wrote this like an unfolding saga. This is more like a memoir than I realized.”

I got excited. Again.

As I went along, I compiled the letters in years and then stepped back, asking what I needed for the book. I wanted the book to be both my story and a resource for others who write newsletters. I truly believe that more information ABOUT newsletters was not the missing piece for those who don’t like to write newsletters. Instead of more information, what they needed was hope and excitement that writing newsletters can be fun.

So, I needed an introduction, conclusion, and short articles for those who write newsletters. I contacted my friend Davita who works with many who write newsletters. Would she share from her experience? She would! Yay! Street cred that Love, Amy wouldn’t just have my ideas, but someone who has read hundreds and hundreds of letters. The intro wasn’t hard to write, but the conclusion?!

The angels saw me flailing around in the water and kindly helped me focus by asking one question. “Amy, why did you write this book? What do you want the read to know when he is finished? What is the message of this book?” I pointed out that they had asked three questions and they gently reminded me I wasn’t really in a good position to split hairs. Did I want to get to the other side or not?

About this time, this was last November, I started freaking out about the cover. Why not? The book wasn’t even done, so instead of focusing on the problem before me (writing the conclusion), I decided to add to my angst by wondering if I could ever, ever, ever love another cover as much I had loved Looming Transitions. Hitting it out of the book cover ballpark, instead of feeling confident when I stepped up to the plate, I was pretty sure I had used up all of my “luck.”

Where does this idea of luck even come from? I believe in the generosity of God! I believe in abundance.

But still I fretted, would my next cover be ugly? Would I love her less? LT’s cover designer was busy so I asked my friend Lynn from Writers on the Rock who she used. She told me about Vanessa in England. I emailed Vanessa and assumed (notice a theme?!) that the process would be long based on the process for Looming Transitions. Within just a few days she emailed four or five potential options.

What?! I wasn’t emotionally prepared for this! I needed time to love another cover. I had only contacted her to “get the ball rolling,” not to have it thrown at me like we were playing dodge ball. I’m pretty sure Vanessa wondered if I was for real, because she asked how many pages the book was and when it was to be published. “Um, it hasn’t even been edited yet.”

But the front cover was done and paid for and I highly recommend Vanessa to anyone.

With the cover in mind, I finished the conclusion and got a draft to my incredibly talented editor Deb Hall. The letters were finally going to be read by someone who had never read them. Up to this point, those who knew about the book had read my letters and thought it was a “great idea.”

What made this a challenge was that my newsletters often contained pictures and in the draft I got to Deb, contained this tension. What do you do with writing that relies heavily on images but you will use no images? You edit, edit, edit, and work on creating a smooth reading experience.

Deb and I wrestled with how much I grew as a writer. I was committed to showing the process of development, even if it cost me in reviews. It was obvious that I went through phases—hello year seven and eight, my subtitle phase—and the first few years have no newsletter titles. How much to alter? How much to leave as is? Where is the “this is supposed to be easy” button?!

I got back the edited draft in January and then spent several months fixing and editing. And editing. And editing.

And then it came time for Andy Bruner to take a word doc that was nearly 100K words long and make it look amazing. He did it. I did not make it easy for him. Love, Amy contains chapters. There are letters within chapters. Sometimes letters have subtitles. Some letters have titles. There are short articles. There are both footnotes and endnotes (because I love notes! I love them!). But he is a saint and a book wizard and anything beautiful in the book is because of Andy.

This is the sexy world of editing, two complete versions and two proof copies:

Finally, Love, Amy was done. I got it to those who had agreed to read it ahead of time and then held my breathe and felt nauseous at the same time. Secretly I wondered if I was asking too much of a book: be both a memoir and an infuser-of-newsletter-hope. But for me, I couldn’t do one without the other.

As I stumble out of the water, exhausted but proud, I have learned so much from writing this book. If Looming Transitions was an “easy” first book, Love, Amy is the second child I was too ignorant to know to be scared of and love her all the more for it.

These letters were not written in isolation. Nor was the book! Thank you for caring about the process, for asking questions, writing reviews, and cheering me on.

Love, Amy

P.S. I want you to be the first to know that Looming Transitions (Kindle) will be on sale for $.99 tomorrow. The winner of Love, Amy has been notified. xxoo

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