Help Is Not a Four Letter Word

Because I am quite sure I look this wise while working.
Or because this is good inspiration, to think about the
greatest novel ever.

Microsoft told me it was 50,010 words. I am sure Bill Gates does not lie. So my consternation was great when, as I plugged in my novel writing word count total for National Novel in a Month the first time I enrolled in it four years ago, their word counter told me I had only 49,909.

Now, normally, 91 words would be a breeze for me. Some of you know this, as you often wonder when my blog posts are ever going to end. But you must realize, it was 11:55pm, and if the word count was not in by midnight, I would not “win.” Faster writing one has never seen. Nor worse, I can assure you.

Some background for the uninitiated: National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo—you just want to be part of it to get to say that) is a month set aside each year (November) in which those who sign up manically attempt to write 50,000 words on a novel. Or, as they put it, “Thirty days and nights of literary abandon.” If they manage, by midnight on November 30^th, they “win.” And I am nothing if not extremely determined to win once I set my mind, or pen, to something.

I did this four years ago because I had a novel sitting since spring that had three chapters finished and no more. It needed finishing. It wanted me to finish it. It sat there every day looking at me accusingly because I had neglected it, and I'm sure it was thinking it just might ask for a divorce soon.

Though I seldom write fiction, and I had not planned to join NaNo again this year, I have changed my mind. I will still write nonfiction. (That is OK. They have made room for all writers and let us participate, even we nonfiction factual sorts.) Why? The outside discipline helps visions become realities. And I need that.

Even at my age, there is nothing like peer pressure to light a fire. Which makes me think abut the value of something like NaNoWri Mo for all of us.

Where Is the Fire?

I don't know if it can be blamed on too many choices in our culture, too little direction, or too much independence. I just know an awful lot of people who want to light a fire in their lives, but they have no idea how to do it. And like my desire to finish my book wasn't going anywhere as long as there were other desires that were far easier to pursue, so their desires sit somewhere in a drawer, looking good, if a little lonely, but not at all productive.

See, pretty sure this did not happen with one guy.

God gives people big dreams in the Bible, and you know what I notice about them? The people who receive them don't seem at all afraid to tell others. Nor do they appear to fear asking for help in accomplishing their dreams. Joseph wasn't shy about relating his dreams. Abraham set right out for the land God sent him to, bringing his help along with him. 

Joshua told the people exactly what they needed to do to see the walls of Jericho fall, and Nehemiah explained exactly what they needed to build their own back up. Mary went to Elizabeth for support when God's dream seemed impossible. Deborah got an entire army behind her.

When God asks something big of his people, he knows they will require both encouragement and challenge to see it happen. Why are we so unable to ask for either one?

Enter me, sitting at my computer all day in 2010, after having slacked off at the beginning of the month and having had unplanned and unavoidable interruptions in the middle of it. Woefully behind in those 50,000 words.

I typed for nine hours. I took two breaks to scarf down some noodles generously made for me by Youngest Child and to watch the Grinch for twenty minutes so my brain could function again. I'm letting you know now, now this is not optimal. For mental health or your writing content. My personal favorite paragraph was the one that went:

"I have to take a nap! I have to pee! I'm not sure which one is more necessary. I am sure I have to sit here and can't do either one until I reach 35,000 words because I'm making myself, I can't get up, no, no, no, no, no--there. All done. Goodbye."

I hope I remembered to delete that one in edits.

And for what? Sure, I got a Tshirt, but we all know another thing to sleep in is not worth nine hours of insanity and carpal tunnel syndrome. No one was going to call me and razz me on the phone because I had fallen short by 4,000 words. So why? Because I signed on for it, I had a goal, and for as long as I have known me (and some days I forget how long that is), I have never been able to admit defeat easily. Plus, I knew if I quit, I wouldn't go back for a long time.

I went to the website at 11:35, ready to plug in my words and claim my fame. And the website said, “NaNoWriMo is over.” What? Hey—I have twenty-five more minutes! You cannot deprive me of my God-given right to twenty-five more minutes! I may have said some things to my computer a pastor ought not say. I was pretty tired.

After about twelve minutes of fiddling, I discovered my personal settings page and the fact that, though I had originally set it to Central Standard Time, it apparently had not taken me seriously. I have no idea what continent it thought I was on, but it was one where midnight had already passed by to the chagrin of unfinished writers in, maybe, Uganda or something. I changed the settings, went to my page, and tried again. Success! The page was open, and the words went in.

At which point I found that our word counters did not agree. I do think Bill Gates should trump in that one, but you can't argue with a machine. Especially with five minutes left until midnight. Went to my manuscript, put in a hundred more words of pure drivel, back to the website, and plugged it in. At 11:58. “Congratulations—you're a Winner!” never looked better. At least, I think so, since my eyes were not completely open.

Help Is Not a Four Letter Word

There is a lot to be said for structure and accountability from outside of you to get that fire going. Its not a thing to avoid but to embrace. This, from a woman who has avoided structure most of her life. There is a reason I get “random” on that personality test so many of us take. I don't like to be told what to do or have constraints put on me by anyone else. But when I avoid it, when I say, “I can do that myself”--I don't. It never happens. Those fires sit there in embers that won't ever make anything warm or burn any evil away from the world around me.

Who wants to say to God, “That dream you gave me? It just asked too much. I couldn't do it alone. So . . . I didn't do it.” He asks us to invest the passions we are given. That means taking them out, refusing to bury them in darkness, and facing the fear of saying, “Hey—this is what I need to do. Can you help get me there?”

Now, instead of buried talents, I have a book I wanted to write. Some of those 50,000 words in 2010 were very horrid, badly written words, but they were words I didn't have before. And that is progress. This year, I hope to have 50,000 more on another book God has given me the dream to write. Some will be dreadful. It will be difficult to admit when I'm behind, or to ask for someone to tell me if any of the words are any good at all. But it will be progress.

Thank you, accountability, for giving me something to shoot for. Thank you, God for giving me a personality that will not give up. Thank you, MacBook Pro, for probably having a more accurate word counter this year. Thank you, three cups of Earl Grey, for making any of those words possible.

Don't Judge Me

Don't Judge Me. It's a popular catch phrase. Usually, we say it when we're joking or admitting to a guilty pleasure. As in, "I watch The Bachelor. Don't judge." (For the record--that is an example. I don't. See--I don't want to be judged.)

Freeee! I'm free, I tell you.

But “Don't Judge Me” has also become our culture's latest universal demand. No matter what I might do, don't anyone dare judge me for it. I'm a free agent. No one has any right to take me to task for any choice I might make. It's the greatest sin of modern America—to judge someone. That is, if we still believed in sin.

To judge, according to the online dictionary, has several meanings. Basically, they come down to this: to form a careful opinion or make a critical decision based on evidence.

Notice what's not in this definition. There is no assessment of a person's character. It does not include a moral determination of whether the person being judged is a good person. It's a clear, evidence-based determination of one case. Did the person do right or wrong?

We've made it into a character assessment. That's why we feel “judged” as people whenever someone lets us know, tactfully or not, that something we did was questionable. We've even called it being judged when someone just disagrees with us. If we can't agree on a definition, how can we know whether or not we are judging someone? Or being judged?

Then, we have to take this all one more step and ask—but what about within the church?

We are confused, especially given current events. What do we do with leaders who have fallen? Forgive and forget? Fire and forget? The Bible says not to judge—is that the standard we need to keep here? That seems to be the opinion of those telling us we're “being judgmental” in taking people out of leadership positions. (Which is kind of funny, since those people then are judging the ones they say are judging the leaders. By their own definition. But . . . oh this is getting really confusing.)

Then wait—the Bible also says that teachers should be held accountable for their teaching. Paul tells us to judge one another (1 Corinthians 5). Which one is it? And how do we know which road to take in which circumstances? What is the difference between accountability and judgment?

I wish there was a clearly marked yellow brick road that could tell us exactly how to do this accountability thing. There, are however, some guidelines in Scripture that help.

How do Christians judge Biblically?

We don't make it personal.

We are honest with someone about a behavior we witnessed. We do not make that into an attack on their character. Jesus told Peter (quite forcefully!) that trying to stop him from going to the cross was a short-term selfish plan. Jesus did not imply that Peter was a selfish being. He turned around and trusted him again with his friendship and ministry. He did not allow mistakes to turn into personal identities.

We judge only on facts we know.

We “just say no” to gossip and slander about another person. We refuse to listen to it, let alone allow it to influence the way we see or treat the person it was about. Matthew says that if we have an issue with a brother or sister, we go to that person (Mathew 18.15-17). Not our best friend, or the youth pastor, or the group of people standing around the coffee pot. Judgment is not to be crowd sourced.

We prioritize love.

Jesus said we must exercise both truth and grace. Too heavy on the first, and we become a Pharisee, wanting to be judge and jury for any infraction we might imagine but with little understanding of our own fallibility. Err too far on the grace side, and it becomes all peace and love with no correction. It's not truly loving to let a person go down in flames when we could have warned them at least. Don't confront someone without genuine love in your heart for them. Also, don't love someone unless you're willing to tell them hard truth.

We recognize when choices are different, not wrong.

Often, when we're upset about someone's choices, it's not that those choices are sinful but that they are uncomfortable. They are different than what we would choose. That does not make them wrong.

I have a painful example of this. Several years back, my daughter wanted to buy a Tshirt in support of the Day of Silence at high school. I said no. I didn't want my child supporting homosexual behavior. The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized—she didn't want to support the behavior. She wanted to support her friends, and their right to go through a school day without being harassed or hurt. It made me uncomfortable, but my daughter was closer to following her WWJD bracelet than I was. Our choices were different, but neither one was categorically wrong.

We cultivate humility.

“Brothers and sisters, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted. Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. For if anyone thinks he is something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself.” (Galatians 6)

Restore how? By first remembering we could be just as guilty just as easily. By thinking of the last time were were tempted to fall just short of the mark. Or the last time we did. Jesus' main quarrel with the Pharisees judging was not that they did but the way in which they did. With pride and apparent enjoyment.

“For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you” (Matthew 7.1-2). In other words, do you really want to judge someone harshly? Do you secretly enjoy being the righteous one? Are you the one on my Facebook feed always posting stories about people's stupid choices and saying how much you'd like to see them punished? Then expect to have those tables turned. 

Rather, “First take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye.” Recognize your own frailty—then things will be much clearer.

We are reluctant to cast the first stone.

If we are eager to be the first in line when we sense a wrong somewhere, we'd better check our attitude. Christians filled with God's grace and truth do not want to judge one another. We do so as Paul did, reluctantly when necessary. Beware of those who take every opportunity to showcase their ability to “cleanse the temple.” That's the work of pride, not Jesus.

We earn the right to speak.

We earn it by being a part of another person's life, not a fly-by critic. We've taken the time to develop a relationship. We care all the time, not just when we want to point out a fault. We don't tell someone we hardly know how to live a better life.

I used to be a “don't judge me” kind of person. I bridled at any attempt at even perceived criticism. I've learned. The disciples needed accountability. The early church leaders needed accountability. I need accountability to become what God wants me to become. It's not a dirty word. I'm grateful for the people in my life with the courage to confront issues that don't bring glory to God.

Being judgmental is a bad thing. Being a good judge, however, is not. We should all be fortunate enough to have those around.

Spiritual Selfies (Why Go To Church, Part 3)

Last week we discussed the question—do you really know the One you're worshiping if you go Lone Ranger worshiper and discard the church as a place to meet God?

Clearly pondering this whole weighty matter.

Today, it gets more personal. Another good question we don't ask is—do we really know ourselves, either? How does the church give us ourselves, our better selves, when we're asking it to do its job? Perhaps more importantly, how willing are we to let it?

Why Go To Church? To See Myself

I have a teenage daughter. In case you don't have one of that species, there is a particular trait of teenage girls you need to know. They take pictures. Of themselves. Constantly. We're not even surprised anymore to see a girl standing in the middle of Target making strange faces into her palm (where the smart phone lies) with no reference to those around her. Not too long ago,we would have found this behavior disturbing enough to warrant concern for her mental health. Now—it's just selfies.

And pondering some more

A funny thing happens when you stare at yourself for too long. You lose all outside reference. Your only compass for what you look like is yourself. At its worst, this turns into eating disorders for girls who see only their flaws. On the other side, it turns into an unhealthy reliance on, and leveraging of, one's looks for value.

When you're the only one in the photo, you have no reference point for who you are and what you're like.

When you're not in a community, you have no reference point for discovering who you are in a larger picture. When you're taking spiritual selfies, you've taken everything out of the picture that could help you measure where you've grown, where you need to, or where you could help someone else.

We're a culture obsessed with taking spiritual selfies.  [tweet this]

And I don't mean we need to be in “community” as in “Sure, I'm I community. I've got lots of friends. (Mostly online.) We talk about deep stuff, dude.They all agree with my opinions, and we all hate the same things. It's great.”

That's cheap community. It's not New Testament community. Not the messy place we see rich and poor, male and female, black and white, coming together and making one beautiful thing out of diversity. The crazy zoo of behavior that needs correcting, correctors who need softening, and grace that needs to cover it all. That's the community of the Bible.

Is this my "we don't like it" face?

We don't like it. It's messy. It challenges us. It changes us. Selfies are infinitely simpler.

But selfies never tell us who we are. Nothing does like wading through the messy stuff with another person--another real person with messy stuff of her own with whom we have to learn our own brand of grace and challenge. Nothing tells us who we are like looking into someone else's perception and seeing what he likes--or doesn't like. Nothing sharpens us like putting down the camera directed at self and taking up the mirror someone else is holding.

It's not comfortable. I've heard those challenging words from time to time. But it's changed me. I discovered things about myself I would have never known if I had believed I had no need of the church to call me out and make me better.

There is a reason grown women do not take selfies.

Why go to church? To see in a mirror what I can't see by myself.  [tweet this].To see a better version of me I can become. To be with people who are trying to become better versions of themselves and help them along the way as they help me. You can try to make a pilgrimage on your own, but why would you? In all of literature, it's done in community. There's a reason for that.

Yes, some churches take advantage of their power to guilt and shame you into changing rather than walk with you into it. But at its best, God intends for it to be the best possible place to journey together because the people there know better than anyone the value of mercy and the power of God's invitation to change.

Continue to take selfies, or accept the challenge to see yourself in the big picture? Change happens in the context of community.

My "I am so done with selfies" face.