Donald Miller's Blog, page 65

Getting Famous Is Not How You Will Change The World

Since I was a kid I knew what I wanted to do: I wanted to change the world. I didn’t know how, and honestly I didn’t know why, but I wanted to have an impact. Or did I?

When I look back I wonder if what I really wanted wasn’t to be famous, to be known and important. Once I got a small degree of that, though, I realized it was fairly empty. The year after I wrote a national bestseller I became confused and depressed.

These days I’d say my motives are mixed. I’ve a sincere desire to change people’s lives along with a seemingly Darwinian desire to stand out and socially survive. It can all be quite complicated and I’m grateful I don’t overthink it. The truth is our motives are mixed all the time and we can lose our sanity trying to “think ourselves” into a purity of intentions.

Still, the evolution from wanting to be famous to wanting to sincerely help people has created positive benefits in my life.

I’d say I’m still experiencing that evolution.

Here’s what I know: Being known by strangers isn’t going to make anybody fulfilled. In fact, it can make life much more confusing and complicated. But finding a role in life that helps others is actually healing.

Every time I speak somebody comes up to me and asks a question about writing a book. Often they just want some advice, but every few times the conversation is different. There’s a desperation in their eyes, a deep desire to be a bestselling author. I recognize this now and it often makes my heart sink. They talk about being a bestselling author the way drug addicts talk about finding their next high. It’s not that they “want” to be known, it’s that they “have” to be known. They believe something magical will happen in their lives if they can only get published and become famous and until they experience it they believe they are living a less-than-fulfilling life.

But this is a sad deception.

*Photo Credit: familymwr, Creative Commons

The truth is, my life got a lot better when I learned to play small ball. I still write books, but not as often. I like the slow, one-one-one work I get to do helping people live a better story much better. It’s more fulfilling.

Having somebody come up to me and say they loved my book is nice, don’t get me wrong, but having somebody come up and say they sold their house, quit their job or adopted a child because of Creating Your Life Plan is fulfilling to me on a much deeper level.

I wish I would have known that when I was younger.

Here’s a thought: What if our desire to be known and validated and even famous isn’t a misappropriated desire to actually be people of significant impact, which doesn’t require fame at all?

Getting Famous Is Not How You Will Change The World is a post from: Storyline Blog

Sunday Morning Sermon — A Child Shows Us The Evidence of God

Our friend Bob has some amazing stories, and this is one of my favorite.

In this video Bob shares a story about a little boy named Charlie, who has the courage to stand in the face of scary witchdoctors. Even high standing judges did not have the courage to stand up to this evil. By doing this, Charlie shows the evidence of God.

The best part of the story is it doesn’t stop there. Not only does God bring justice, but he also brings healing and restoration.

I love stories that point to who we are and point to evidence of the reality of God.

This little “four-footer” can teach us all something.

Sunday Morning Sermon — A Child Shows Us The Evidence of God is a post from: Storyline Blog

This Is How I Overcome Fear

I Fear. I’m good at it.

I fear you. I fear me. I fear God. I fear grace. I fear truth. I fear rejection. I fear the unknown.

So you know what I do with that fear?

I turn it into all sorts of ugly things. Mostly I turn it to worry.

This weekend my wife found a weird lump. She went to the doctor and had it checked and is going back on Wednesday to have it checked again. The doctor said it is a “somelongwierdwordidontknowhowtoprononce”. She said most women get them at some point in their lives.

*Photo Credit: Carlos Whitacker

I didn’t think twice.

But you know what happened tonight?

I let my core sin sneak up on me. Out of the blue, after 3 days of not thinking twice about, it snuck up on me like white on rice.

When I picked Heather and the kids up from Joy’s tonight I was suddenly obsessed with the lump again.

What did the doc say again? What is she doing on Wednesday? When will the labs be back? What did she say before she said that thing she said before the first thing?

Heather looked at me like I was nuts.

She had a piece of prescription paper with the lumps name on it.

When I got home she knew what I was dead set on doing. I went straight into the kitchen and grabbed that little paper. I sat on the sofa to open up my laptop and log onto my sin feeder.

www.webmd.com

That site can take me down faster than a lipsticked pitbull. But no. Heather was not having it. She told me I was not allowed to look it up. I said I needed to in order to calm my fears.

She said bulls#@!.

So with everything I had in me, I ripped that freaking piece of paper into 1000 little pieces and jammed it into my piehole.

I chewed with a raging pissed-off-ness because I knew I was falling into my sin and was not going to let it take me over. When I got done chewing… it was gone. The paper with the name of her lump, and my worry.

Thank You Lord. Take that you stupid piece of blue paper.

This Is How I Overcome Fear is a post from: Storyline Blog

How To Handle A Bad Mood At Home

So I’m just getting used to being married. It’s great. And I’m way better at it than I thought I’d be. All the stuff I worried about before getting married turned out for naught. Betsy is great. And we’re great together.

One thing I’ve had to learn, though, is not to allow my moods to affect the weather in the house.

What I mean is, when I’ve failed at something or missed a deadline or can’t seem to get the words turning in the typewriter, I can’t mope or get defensive like I could when I was single. These days, there’s another person in the house who is affected by that stuff.

Neither Betsy nor I are fighters.

We pretty much talk things out. Perhaps that’s because I got married so much later, I’m not sure. But recently, after I’d had a particularly rough day in fits and false starts trying to write, I brought my bad mood out of my upstairs office and right into the kitchen at dinner time.

I didn’t say anything; I just pitched in to help around the kitchen with a less-than contended frown on my face. I didn’t even want to process it with her; I just wanted to mope.

*Photo Credit: Martina Zani, Creative Commons

Betsy and I ate and then did some work filling our downstairs bookshelves with books we still hadn’t unpacked from the move. After an hour or so of hardly talking, I wondered whether she was mad at me. So I asked. She said she wasn’t, that she wasn’t upset at all. I kept unpacking books, realizing something was wrong with my wife. She’s not the least bit passive aggressive, so I know she’d tell me if something was wrong. Then I realized what was going on. She was mirroring my emotions.

We all tend to mirror each other’s emotions, after all.

That’s how we connect and relate. And because I was in a grumpy mood, all the weather in the house went dark.

Betsy and I finally sat down and talked about it. I told her I was feeling insecure about the book and I wondered whether it was any good and I wasn’t sure how to fix it. I assured her this had happened with every book, but I apologized for bringing the bad mood into the house.

Betsy said bringing a bad mood into the house wasn’t a crime, of course, and affirmed me for talking about it rather than letting it stay a mystery to her.

Anyway, after we talked about it, I no longer felt alone in that place, and felt more confident that, somehow, the words would come. And the weather in the house broke and there was some sunshine again.

That said, I’d say that’s been the biggest paradigm shift for me– that my emotions, my actions, my thoughts, and feelings are no longer only mine; they directly affect the people closest to me.

I want to take more responsibility for my emotions.

When they’re dark, I want to openly process them with friends or teammates to point them toward a more hopeful place rather than drag people into them with me.

Turns out we aren’t islands after all. We are mountains that create our own weather patterns. And that weather feeds or destroys crops.

How To Handle A Bad Mood At Home is a post from: Storyline Blog

One Way to Fix Toxic Relationships

I work in Washington, D.C. I have heard it said that Washington is a city full of Senior Class Presidents and first-born children. The exaggerated caricature is that it is a place where power is exalted and people are expendable. Contacts are currency and loyalty has a news-cycle shelf-life. The truth is that Washington, D.C. is just another city full of people – people with hopes, dreams, fears, and a deep desire to be known.

I was recently at a reception in the city with many people I did not know. Several attendees quickly engaged me in conversation and obtained a sense of my resume and Rolodex. Apparently, I was not going to be of much use to them in the future. To varying degrees, each of them began to look past me to see who else was in the room. They quickly ended the conversation and moved on to greener pastures. One was in such a rush he forgot to finish his thought as he walked away in mid-sentence leaving me only in the company of my bacon wrapped scallop hors d’oeuvres.

*Photo Credit: Dell Inc., Creative Commons

I wonder how often I have done the same thing: been more interested in what people can do for me than the people themselves. Far too often we enter relationships with a consumer mentality. These transactional interactions reduce “relating” to mere “networking.” We seek out the important and influential and avoid those who appear average or of limited utility — we reject C.S. Lewis’ declaration that “there are no ordinary people.”

This behavior is one thing at a cocktail party, but when it creeps into the rest of our lives, it inhibits authentic connections. “Friends” are reduced to “contacts” when we relate to them based on what they can do for us instead of who they are. Even in marriage – the relationship that ought to be the deepest and most intimate – this consumerism is surprisingly common and destructive. Ironically, if my focus is on how my spouse can fulfill me or help me achieve my life’s goals, I will miss out on marriage’s greatest joys.

Sometimes this pattern spreads into our relationship with God.

A transactional faith is at best mere legalism and more commonly painful manipulation. Hopes, dreams, and relationships cannot flourish in this environment.

What would it look like if we approached others without an agenda? What if we did not look past the person we are with but instead tried to hear them? I think our friendships and acquaintances would be transformed. I am not suggesting a complete retreat from healthy boundaries or networking . . . but instead an advance toward the hard work of acknowledging the people that create the connections of our lives.

The truth is when relationships become transactional they become toxic.

Whether we are with an acquaintance, friend, lover, or God . . . filling our lives with transactional relationships will leave us unsatisfied. Regardless of where we live, I think we find surprising fulfillment when we relax and enjoy the people around us without an agenda.

One Way to Fix Toxic Relationships is a post from: Storyline Blog

Here’s a Good Reason To Go To Church

When you see a line of people waiting for the church doors to open, that’s a good sign. That’s what I saw recently at a church in southern Guatemala, almost to the El Salvador border, in a little town called Chiquimulilla.

And they weren’t in line just on Sunday for the worship services. They were there Monday through Saturday, too. They were coming for the water.

*Photo Credit: David Amsler, Creative Commons

The pastor, Salomon Hernandez, used to be a pharmacist in Guatemala. He routinely gave medicine to the children who were chronically sick from drinking contaminated water in their community. But he knew that once the medicine killed the germs and worms in these kids, when the kids drank out of the river again, they’d be back.

The pipes in the municipal water supply were porous and allowed all sorts of bad bugs in. The river was worse – you could see the larvae swimming in it. So people could either boil the water, which almost no one did because of the cost of the fuel, or they could buy it from water companies that gouged them with outrageous prices.

For some families, they had to decide whether to buy clean water or food.

According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, diarrhea diseases kill more kids worldwide than AIDS, malaria and measles combined. And it’s all because of contaminated water, unsafe sanitation, and hygiene.

Pastor Salomon teamed up with Healing Waters International, an NGO out of Denver, to install a water filtration system in his church. They charged a fraction of what the water companies charged. With help from Healing Waters, the church also provided education in cooking and healthy habits.

Now, every morning, a line forms at the church for life-giving water.

And church members take water to the harder-to-reach areas, where sickness is worse and medical care is non-existent. It’s outreach. They’re installing water filtration systems and starting new churches at the water sites. It’s church planting. Other churches are inquiring.

Anne Lamott told me in an interview a few years ago that “Christianity is the wettest religion there is. It’s all about baptism and tears and getting drenched and giving a cup of cool water in Jesus’ name.”

Imagine coming to church for the water. Life-giving, life-sustaining water. Everyone who is thirsty can come. It’s not a metaphor. It really is about the water.

Here’s a Good Reason To Go To Church is a post from: Storyline Blog

Are American Christians Really Being Oppressed, Or Are They Just Whining?

Last night I had family over and at the end of a long day we collapsed on the couch to watch a movie.

I searched through pay-per-view to find a movie and happened upon a temporary category in their download section called “Faith and Family Films”…The list was long and pretty good.

*Photo Credit: flash.pro, Creative Commons

It got me thinking, though, about how often I hear leaders complain about how there’s a conspiracy or a movement against Christians and Christian culture. Personally, at least in America, I don’t buy it. And the fact Comcast thought to insert a category for faith films speaks to the reality large companies are more than willing to cater to Christians, and happily so.

Do certain groups hate Christians?

Yes, just as any group of people is oppressed in some ways, but by in large, Christians are more than tolerated in our culture, they are celebrated and have an enormous amount of power.

In fact, it’s hard to think of any other segment of American culture that has as much power as Christians and yet gets as little push back. What race, sexual orientation or religious perspective gets as little resistance as Christians in America. I’d argue none.

What I think is really happening is a small group of Christian leaders identify themselves as victims of an oppressor, an oppressor necessary to live out their own partly delusional narrative they are the heroic underdog up against an evil enemy.

Recently, a controversial pastor in Seattle was confronted with accusing an Orange County City Council of religious discrimination for not allowing him to plant a church in their city. He beat the drums of war and promised his congregation, and the world, he’d stand his ground. One of his own pastors finally went public saying his boss always knew the building wasn’t zoned for a church, had been warned about it and was being manipulative to get his way.

There were hundreds of churches in the town in question. The issue was a zoning issue.

Of course, actions like this make law-abiding, non-manipulative (who are in the majority in evangelical circles) Christian leaders look bad. Playing the victim when you are not a victim is a form of deception. It’s the kind of game the “Father of Lies” likes to play.

Not only this, but this kind of cultural manipulation takes needed attention and resources away from true Christian martyrs all over the world who are truly being oppressed for their faith. In China, Syria, Iraq and Iran, oppression against Christians is rampant. But in Orange County? Really? Aren’t you just flopping like a European soccer player?

I am a Christian. I follow Jesus. There are people who don’t like that.

They are sometimes rude to me. Sometimes they criticize me online. Sometimes to my face. But that happens to anybody who believes anything. I am not a victim. I am not being wrongly persecuted. I’m fine. I know how to turn the other cheek. I’m not crying about anything.

Are American Christians Really Being Oppressed, Or Are They Just Whining? is a post from: Storyline Blog

Sunday Morning Music — Death In His Grave

Easter is one of my favorite times of the year. It is always good to take a moment to remember the single most important moment in our faith: the resurrection.

I have been listening to John Mark McMillian for around ten years and this song is one I am reminded of when Easter comes each year. If you have not heard this song, take a moment to do so.

These are some powerful lyrics:

On Friday a thief

On Sunday a King

Laid down in grief

But awoke with keys

Of Hell on that day

The first born of the slain

The Man Jesus Christ

Laid death in his grave

Sunday Morning Music — Death In His Grave is a post from: Storyline Blog

3 Reasons My Children Are Happier Than Me

Recently, we were in San Diego, my wife Kari thought we should go to the Aquarium of the Pacific. My daughters love fish. Sahara likes watching seals jump. Dassi is a massive penguin fan. When you ask her what sound a penguin makes, she says, “Waddle, waddle, waddle,” then rocks side to side like a red-headed Weeble Wobble.

I’d been to aquariums before and had moderate expectations. I knew it would be okay: glass and coral and fish and stuff. But through their two-year-old eyes, stepping into the Aquarium was like landing on Venus, surrounded by a flood of angelic voices, serenading us under ribbons of falling stars.

The girls ran inside as if chased by unseen creatures of joy.

As if they were heeding some invisible call I could no longer hear. Every tank – every fish, turtle, seahorse – was not just visited, it was devoured. To them, it was not another selfie photo op, a shallow chance to show off to invisible friends. It was a discovery of life – exploding into a million different colors.

My experience was far less dramatic. I did stop and enjoy some, but found myself impatiently moving our party on to the next exhibit. I missed the opportunity to sit down, forget time and drink deeply of wonder.

My daughters missed nothing. Nor did they rush to the next thing. One moment, both of them were bent over backwards, hypnotized, staring at a wall of fish. They were frozen in place, transfixed by wonder. They were, in the words of Einstein, ‘dancing to the mysterious tune, intoned in the distance by the Invisible Piper.’

I was not hearing the same frequencies. Watching them was beautiful and tragic, as I realized somewhere along the way, I went tone deaf, unable to hear the Great Music.

When did I stop hearing?

What closed me off? What jaded me, made me cynical, doubtful and afraid? Was it broken relationships? Or the frantic pace I live, reacting, moving from crisis to crisis? Was over-familiarity breeding contempt in my heart? Once someone stops hearing the music, can they ever hear it again?

Awe and wonder have been pushed to the far corners of our soul. We live in this tension, and I think it’s really a longing for eternity, ‘the eternity set in the heart of everyman.’ (Ecclesiastes 3.11) We, as mortal creatures, remember it from a distance, when we see ocean waves, kiss our lover, or hear the philharmonic symphony.

Watching my girls interact with beauty made me want to open my soul and be free again. They, with un-jaded perspective, are fully open to all life offers. They simply receive it with joy.

What if I lived like that? What if we all did?

To be honest, I’m not sure how to get back there. I’m not sure how to stop long enough to hear the Music. But when we live open and free, like little children, we are characterized by a few things:

1. We lose the compulsion to criticize others. We no longer live in fear or control or cynicism. We see people for who they really are, immortal and fragile creatures, created in the image of God. We can stop being blog trolls, writing angry ‘open letters,’ and tweeting emotional responses to the manufactured drama du jour. We can embrace gratitude, letting go of hate and cynicism altogether.

2. We resist over-familiarity. We discipline ourselves to see everything for the first time – again. I think sometimes we lose our eyes of wonder when we become too familiar. As the scientist misses the wonder of God in nature; the theologian misses it in the Bible. All the while, God is right in front of us.

3. We live slow. We may work fast and fly a million miles a year, but inside, we’re at peace. Interruptions become less annoying and more about opportunity. We let go of the guilt of our past and the anxiety of our future, choosing to live fully now. We understand our calling is no bigger than the person right in front of us.

I want to live like this again. To open myself for today. To see with eternal eyes of wonder, like a child, fascinated with each new discovery. I hope we all live this way. Life will crush us, be hateful to us, and present us opportunities to close and protect our souls. May we stay open and free. Then perhaps, we may understand Jesus words, “Let the little ones come to me and do not hinder them, for the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as these.” (Matthew 19.14)

3 Reasons My Children Are Happier Than Me is a post from: Storyline Blog

How My Kids Taught Me To Live Fully Now

Recently, we were in San Diego, my wife Kari thought we should go to the Aquarium of the Pacific. My daughters love fish. Sahara likes watching seals jump. Dassi is a massive penguin fan. When you ask her what sound a penguin makes, she says, “Waddle, waddle, waddle,” then rocks side to side like a red-headed Weeble Wobble.

I’d been to aquariums before and had moderate expectations. I knew it would be okay: glass and coral and fish and stuff. But through their two-year-old eyes, stepping into the Aquarium was like landing on Venus, surrounded by a flood of angelic voices, serenading us under ribbons of falling stars.

The girls ran inside as if chased by unseen creatures of joy.

As if they were heeding some invisible call I could no longer hear. Every tank – every fish, turtle, seahorse – was not just visited, it was devoured. To them, it was not another selfie photo op, a shallow chance to show off to invisible friends. It was a discovery of life – exploding into a million different colors.

My experience was far less dramatic. I did stop and enjoy some, but found myself impatiently moving our party on to the next exhibit. I missed the opportunity to sit down, forget time and drink deeply of wonder.

My daughters missed nothing. Nor did they rush to the next thing. One moment, both of them were bent over backwards, hypnotized, staring at a wall of fish. They were frozen in place, transfixed by wonder. They were, in the words of Einstein, ‘dancing to the mysterious tune, intoned in the distance by the Invisible Piper.’

I was not hearing the same frequencies. Watching them was beautiful and tragic, as I realized somewhere along the way, I went tone deaf, unable to hear the Great Music.

When did I stop hearing?

What closed me off? What jaded me, made me cynical, doubtful and afraid? Was it broken relationships? Or the frantic pace I live, reacting, moving from crisis to crisis? Was over-familiarity breeding contempt in my heart? Once someone stops hearing the music, can they ever hear it again?

Awe and wonder have been pushed to the far corners of our soul. We live in this tension, and I think it’s really a longing for eternity, ‘the eternity set in the heart of everyman.’ (Ecclesiastes 3.11) We, as mortal creatures, remember it from a distance, when we see ocean waves, kiss our lover, or hear the philharmonic symphony.

Watching my girls interact with beauty made me want to open my soul and be free again. They, with un-jaded perspective, are fully open to all life offers. They simply receive it with joy.

What if I lived like that? What if we all did?

To be honest, I’m not sure how to get back there. I’m not sure how to stop long enough to hear the Music. But when we live open and free, like little children, we are characterized by a few things:

1. We lose the compulsion to criticize others. We no longer live in fear or control or cynicism. We see people for who they really are, immortal and fragile creatures, created in the image of God. We can stop being blog trolls, writing angry ‘open letters,’ and tweeting emotional responses to the manufactured drama du jour. We can embrace gratitude, letting go of hate and cynicism altogether.

2. We resist over-familiarity. We discipline ourselves to see everything for the first time – again. I think sometimes we lose our eyes of wonder when we become too familiar. As the scientist misses the wonder of God in nature; the theologian misses it in the Bible. All the while, God is right in front of us.

3. We live slow. We may work fast and fly a million miles a year, but inside, we’re at peace. Interruptions become less annoying and more about opportunity. We let go of the guilt of our past and the anxiety of our future, choosing to live fully now. We understand our calling is no bigger than the person right in front of us.

I want to live like this again. To open myself for today. To see with eternal eyes of wonder, like a child, fascinated with each new discovery. I hope we all live this way. Life will crush us, be hateful to us, and present us opportunities to close and protect our souls. May we stay open and free. Then perhaps, we may understand Jesus words, “Let the little ones come to me and do not hinder them, for the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as these.” (Matthew 19.14)

How My Kids Taught Me To Live Fully Now is a post from: Storyline Blog