The Publisher Part V: Conference

Everything was ready by dinner time on Friday.

I had prepared everything from my painted nails to my business cards. I even curled my hair before bed and pinned it up so when 3:45AM rolled around, I could be off like a shot. Everything was ready, which gave me time to think about what could possibly go wrong.

"Am I prepared if the car breaks down? Yes, I have cellphone, money, credit card, food."
"Do I have a map of the conference? Sample chapters? A book summary? Packed."
"Do I know how to get there? The GPS is next to my purse."
"I'm ready. I've prepared for the worst."

When the phone rang, I barely noticed, but I heard my mom's voice grow tight. "Yes, she's right here. One moment please."
I'm the only other "she" in the house, and no one ever calls me at home. Mom handed the phone to me, and gave me an anxious look. "Unicorn Writer's Conference." she shrugged.

Oh boy. This was not a surprise. Thursday night, Connecticut had been hit with a heavy snowstorm, and it had crossed my mind more than once that the conference might be cancelled. I spoke a greeting into the receiver, and a woman's voice reached my ear.

"Samantha, this is ____, I am the editor who is meeting with you tomorrow to discuss the manuscript you sent me."
"Yes, how are you?" I asked.
"Doing fine, but there's a problem with your manuscript. Only the first couple chapters are complete; the rest are fragmented, and its too consistent to be human error. I think you had a technical glitch."

My eyes squeezed shut like I'd been smacked across the face, and I sunk onto my bed. I was wrong. I wasn't prepared for the worst. The editor was holding a chopped-up manuscript. There was something wrong with my work, my baby, and I had thirteen hours before the conference began.

Saturday, March 9th, 2013
Maybe it started when I was working at the bakery last winter, and staying in bed until 6AM was considered sleeping-in. Maybe its the promise of coffee and watching the sun come up that makes me roll out of bed before dawn every day, but I can say without reservation that I love mornings.

3:45 AM is not morning. Don't be deceived by the AM suffix. It's nighttime, and I don't want to see it.

I was out the door by 4:15. Walking blindly into the dark driveway, I thanked God that I don't watch horror movies, and tried not to listen to the eerie cracking of the ice across the street. Hotspur (yes, I've named my car) started up with a growl, the GPS sang its electronic pinging song, and we were off.

As I do when I'm driving, I started to talk to God. I thanked Him for this opportunity, and asked for a good day and safe tra--

I jumped when the GPS fell from its perch with a crash. Crud. I was speeding down the thruway, and pulling over seemed like overkill, so with a free hand I pushed the suction cup back into the windshield. That should hold it.

Now, God, where was I. It was 4:30 now, so please be with me as I travel and allow me to--

Another crash. As I tried to readjust the monitor on the window, my clumsy fingers hit the touchscreen. With all that beeping, I had probably just set myself up for a nice drive to Houston. Gosh, I hate technology. The GPS fell a grand total of five times before I finally surrendered and put it in my lap. That was right about the time I reached a dark stretch of thruway where the DOT had decided it was time to blast threw fifty feet of granite next to the road. What girl doesn't like explosives on an unfamiliar road at five in the morning? If I haven't mentioned it before, I hate to drive. No, I HATE to drive, but I also hate giving up and living scared.

By a miracle of God, I made it to the castle alive. St. Clement's Castle is a Tudor-style estate house built on a river, and it features stables, a grand ballroom, several dining rooms, a library, and a courtyard. It's flawless. As I emerged from my car, a man passing by looked at my license plate and laughed.

"New York? Well, that's quite a drive!"
"Yes sir," I replied. "I started driving at four this morning."
"Four? Wow. That shows some want-to."

Want-to? At this point, it was need-to. I needed to be there; I needed feedback, criticism, connections, some gosh-darn direction for this foggy, isolating art that somehow decided it would be predominate in my free time. The people at the reception desk handed me my name tag, and we went in to mingle and have breakfast in the ballroom. Whoever thought a room full of artistic introverts should meet together to chat was placing quite a bet. We were all shy, as most writers are, but once we started talking about our work we opened up. Business cards were exchanged throughout the day, and I can say truthfully I met some incredible people and writers.

I attended five workshops. My favorite was led by the woman who edited my book; the second favorite was by a business woman with a gorgeous Irish accent and smacking wit. Some workshops were facilitated by glamorous agents from New York with round glasses, angled bobs, and brightly colored pashminas. They shared brilliant stories of successes (and failures), knowing that every member of their audience would only be one or the other. I started to feel panicky. My one-to-one conference was with an editor who had a mangled manuscript. Everyone else was meeting with an agent they could potentially sell their work to. Periodically, a writer would stand up and speak about how they sold their work at this conference last year, and were now signing a $10,000 book deal. This rollercoaster of despair and brutal optimism was starting to wear on me, and I felt more inadequate by the second.

When I finally met with the editor, the first question out of her mouth was: Do you want to be a writer? Do you want this to be your life?"
"Yes, I do." There. Writing and I were now married for life.
"Then let's get started," she said.

In truth, the fact that the manuscript was botched up didn't affect our talk. She was encouraging, but challenged me to do better. I needed to do better.
"Yes, Tom Clancy cheats," she said. "Yes, J.K. Rowling and Dan Brown cheat these rules, but they can. They've sold millions of books. You can't cheat, and why would you even if you could? Why do that to your readers? It is your responsibility to carry us through the story and make us feel everything. If you don't do that, and we have to do everything ourselves, then shame on you. You realize you have to rewrite this novel?"
I nodded.
"And you're ok with that?" she asked. 
"I am. I'm relieved actually. I knew it wasn't ready, but I didn't know how to fix it."
"Well, keep going," she said. "You've got a spark that most of us didn't have at your age."

I left that meeting and felt my stress dissipate. For months I'd known that the book wasn't ready to sell. Like a mom who takes her coughing child to the doctor, I had a sick baby and no idea what was wrong. Criticism and critique had given me some hope. It's not ready yet, but it may be someday.

I left the castle at 7pm, and started the long trek home. No crashing GPS or explosives this time, but Massachusetts you need to do something about your Swiss cheese roads. I think I left Hotspur's undercarriage in Lee. It was a long day, a fruitful day, and I came away with the following understandings:

1. If I want this to be my life, it needs to be a second job. I need to be writing every chance I get, honing the craft, and learning everything I can. Producing second-rate literature is never acceptable even if you are on the NYTimes Bestseller List.

2. This is achievable. I am very young, and I have a lot to learn, but this can be my life if I'm willing to work my butt off.

3. Show your readers a story, don't tell them one. It's my job to carry someone through the story, not give them a map and tell them to have fun.

Thank you Jesus for an amazing day, to the fantastic editor for calling me out, and to the brilliant writers I was able to share time, stories, hopes, and business cards with. What a happy bunch of introverts we are.

LOVE

The Publisher Part IV: Prep Work

At this point, I feel like I should stop labeling these blogs "The Publisher" and start calling them "The Long Unexpected Journey of My Poor Unpublished Book."

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That is too long. We'll stick with the label we've got for now.

As I've mentioned before, this weekend, I will be attending a writer's conference in CT. For years, I had written off the possibility of attending a conference because admission to such events can cost thousands of dollars plus the cost of travel and hotels. Thankfully, this conference does not require me to travel far, and the cost of admission wasn't bad.

So, how does one prep for something like this?

First, business cards. Writing is an art, and publishing is a business. Therefore, be prepared to sell your art to agents. Cards should be simple (i.e. no butterflies or pictures of the ocean), concise, and contain your pertinent information. I ordered two hundred and fifty cards from Vistaprint.com, and it cost me $13.00. Information to include is your name, email, blog/website, and a short tagline that quickly sums up what you write. I'm a writer of historical fiction, so my tagline briefly encompasses the sort of writing I'm drawn to (and keep it short...like four words).

Secondly, writing samples. If you are selling your work, bring some with you. Most agents will want to see the first three chapters of whatever you've written. Why three chapters? If you haven't engaged the audience by chapter three, you've done something wrong. Those are the books you get at the library, start, and then never finish because you "just can't get into them." Bring enough samples for at least three to four agents.

Thirdly, schedule a session if you can. If your conference offers opportunities to meet with editors and agents, DO IT. One of the most challenging parts of the publishing process is getting your book into the hands of an editor. Editors and agents who attend conferences are ready to read your work and provide feedback. The cost for the sessions can be a little expensive (I paid $40), but feedback is priceless.

Fourth, know your work. You need to be able to pitch your book in three sentences or less. It feels impossible, but its necessary. You don't need to divulge every plot twist or minor characters, but the ability to sum up a novel in a few words is critical to selling the work. Bringing printed plot summaries is not a bad idea.

Fifth, dress appropriately. This. Is. A. Business. For a weekend conference, business casual is appropriate. You can dress and behave eccentrically when you are writing, not when you are selling your writing. A portfolio case is brilliant for carrying samples, and wear shoes comfortable enough to move in. You'll either be standing or migrating from session to session, so be comfortable.

Sixth, know where you are going, and be prepared to move. Most conferences are all-day affairs. Having a map of the conference center is a fantastic plan, and knowing how to actually get to the event is even better. Give yourself enough travel time to get there. Conferences will typically feed you at least one meal, but packing food is wise. Granola bars and fruit travel well, and aren't messy. Just be sure to bring mints for those one-to-one editor meetings.

Seventh, please have fun. Great minds think alike, and when the are all in one room it can be great fun. Bring notebooks for the informational sessions, explore the conference center, make new connections. Conferences are designed to aid writers in networking, so enjoy the process of meeting new people who are like-minded and ambitious.

I will keep everyone posted as to how this conference goes. I'll be leaving my house at four in the morning, so prayers are appreciated...ugh...coffee.

P.S.  I HAVE THRILLING NEWS!!!! I just bought tickets to see Macbeth performed at the Globe Theatre in London this coming July. The GLOBE! If you are wondering, yes, I did squeal like a little girl for a solid five minutes, much to the amusement of my family. For a girl who named her car "Hotspur" (Henry IV Part I) this is a big deal. I know I'm a nerd and I embrace it.

LOVE

Love Month: Loving You

Narcissism: inordinate fascination with oneself; excessive self-love; vanity. (dictionary.com)

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I am not going to talk about how we ought to practice such narcissism  If the years of Twitter, Facebook, etc. have taught us anything, it is that we are too interested in ourselves and our activities. Does the wide world need to know (much less see a picture of) what we ate for lunch? Does our relationship status need to be common knowledge? Does anyone care if we are getting froyo with our BFF after the gym?

Gosh no. 

Narcissism is the measure of the day, and how fascinated we are with the person in the mirror! Everyone is a star; we can all be Kardashians (though, I don't think that sounds like a nice or happy life). Yet for being so self-obsessed, we are not very kind to ourselves. In fact, it is to our own selves that we often target our deepest criticism, disappointment, blame, and fear. Just look at the sweeping trends in self-harm, alcoholism, cutting, drugs, eating disorders, promiscuity, and suicide. For a species that is so obsessed with itself, we show excessive amounts of self-hatred. Ourselves shouldn't like us very much.

So, what have we done wrong? 

We've forgotten who and what we are. 
In a culture that likes to tell us we are wonderful, special, interesting little demi-gods, and with internet sites devoted to our every thought and action, we fall into a sham willingly. We speak and dress to promote only a certain part of ourselves; our Facebook page displays an image we've constructed; we create a beautiful facade of poise, cleverness, and success that we then try to believe ourselves. How disappointing it is to realize that we are fallen, foolish, emotional, and we fail daily. We know better than anyone how sad a charade our public face is. 

Romance 7:18 says "For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh; for the willing is present in me, but the doing of the good is not.

We know what is right, but we don't do it. We know what is true, but we don't live it. And in seeking unconditional love from the world, we come to realize we can't even give it to ourselves. Why? Because man and his love is imperfect.

HOWEVER....

"God demonstrates His own love towards us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." Romans 5:8

That unconditional love we grasp for? It sees our attempts at perfection, watches as they fall apart, and then loves us in spite of it all. God knows; He is not deceived by our polished performance. In fact, He is so familiar with our shortcomings that He died to do away with them forever. He took them on Himself. For all the times you've argued that God can't love you because of what you've done, He can and He does. In fact, He knows your sins as well as you do. Your value is in His estimation, and He esteems to call you His.

So, what does that mean?
It means that our days of self-loathing can be over, and our days of self-love should be finished. 
Acknowledging our sin nature makes us honest. We aren't perfect, we can't be perfect, and no one is worthy of unconditional love. Let that put your narcissism to death. However, self-loathing now has no place amongst us either, because Almighty God (who has every right to hate us) refuses to do so. We do not deserve His love, but He gives it anyway. We are unconditionally loved by the Maker of love itself. 

Now what do I do?
"And He has shown you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God." Micah 6:8

We can't be proud. We have nothing to be proud about. However, we also can't inflict judgement and hatred upon ourselves because God did that to His Son. It's over. Now, we are called to live righteously, showing love to one another, and bringing God and His kingdom glory. Do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God. Although its not popular, and it will win you no followers on Twitter, living in the truth of unconditional love is the kindest thing you can do for yourself.


LOVE 

Love Month: Love with Brains

And now for something completely unlike anything I've ever written before!!! 

(Spoilers about to happen)

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Zombie love stories. No one is more surprised by this topic appearing on my blog than me. If monster stories are the talk of the times, zombies have never been a favorite. As a rule, I give apocalypse literature a wide berth, and brains smeared across some scary dead face are not conducive to a restful night's sleep. I'm more of a mummy or werewolf kind of girl, and even then I'm not enthusiastic. However, when trailers for Warm Bodies surfaced, some twisted part of my conscience snickered and said "Fine. Let's give you a go."

A fair portion of my friends are zombie fans. The first time I met my friend Erin, she arrived at my dorm room  in full-blown, startlingly convincing zombie makeup (theater tech majors are very awesome, by the way). Before college, I never knew it was practical to have a plan for the zombie apocalypse.  I am now prepared, in case you were wondering. So this week, I am in Virginia visiting my friend Juwa, who happens to be rather brilliant in most areas of study, including zombie lore. When she surprised me with tickets to see Warm Bodies, I knew the film would either be very good (which we love), or horrendously cheesy (which we may love more). Lo and behold, this film surprised us both, and yes, you absolutely need to see it. Right now.

Why would you pay ten bucks to sit through another yet another teenage-monster movie? Typically, I would insist that you do nothing of the kind. I'd tell you to watch a clever indie film, or read something redeeming! There is, however, a first time for everything, and for the first time in my experience, the monster genre was satisfying and uplifting. I hate Twilight with every mitochondria in my cells, so let's compare this deliciously brainy (har har) film to the worst piece of fiction ever constructed in a peri-menopausal mind, shall we?

First, I need to blow up some assumptions. I would like to assure you that this film is not needlessly gory. Yes, zombies eat brains, but we don't see skulls splitting and guts flying in the air. This is not HBO or The Walking Dead. Also, it is important to note that Warm Bodies (unlike Twidumb) is not about necrophilia. The relationship between R (our zombie friend) and Julie (his human counterpart) begins as a very platonic friendship. He protects her from his goony buddies who'd like nothing better than to chew her face, and she protects him from her shotgun-happy daddy. If that doesn't sound like a typical teenage dating scenario...

Their relationship is not a sexual or lustful one. In fact, they don't even touch each other until halfway through the film, and that is just hand holding while running away from monsters. The relationship doesn't become romantic and politely physical until he becomes (spoiler) human again.

Secondly, on the subject of humanity, Warm Bodies (unlike Twistupid) does not put humanity down. No one wants to become a zombie; there is nothing sexy or mysterious about it. It's rotting, drool-y, gory, and smells bad. R wants to be human. He wants to connect on some level with the people around him, but his condition makes it impossible. Julie is not interested in sacrificing her soul to be like him, and never even hints at wanting to birth his undead demon babies (Bella, you stupid, stupid child). Humanity is seen as a desirable, wholesome state of being that is flawed, but honest and natural.

Thirdly, these characters are likable. R cannot speak, but his internal monologue is delightful. I kind of love him a lot. He thinks like a typical young adult, human male, and is never portrayed as a dark, suave, unrealistic hero. In fact, he's clumsy, awkward, and has severe hand-eye coordination problems. We like that he is earnest, considerate, and wants to do the right thing. Julie is brilliant. Unlike Bella (who can't function on any level no matter how remotely simple), Julie is a capable and funny young woman, and her value does not come from landing a man, dead or otherwise. Her value stems from her ability to better her society and protect the people she cares about it. When her human boyfriend patronizes her, she graciously corrects him, and she shows love and respect to her father without accepting his paranoia and bitterness.Together, these characters are playful, endearing, and genuinely interested in the welfare of others.

Fourthly, their love is not selfish. With Twilight, you have these two people who are so self-centered and self-absorbed I want to punch their stupid faces. They repeatedly put others in danger, and use people they claim to love without remorse. No cost is too high for their nauseating, obsessive co-dependency, and the whole blessed plot revolves around whether or not they will have (ahem) relations. R and Julie want to better themselves, and are concerned with the welfare of society as a whole...well, what remains of it. They realize that their relationship is good for everyone, and put the needs of the other person/zombie before their own. Never do they insist that the other person change who they are to keep the relationship afloat, and when R says he will protect Julie, he actually does it. Chivalry, apparently, is undead.

Finally, this film is a true love story. Let that not freak you out. As I mentioned, R becomes human because of Julie's friendship, and it is their love for each other that jump-starts many dead hearts. This isn't just romantic love; R and Julie love their family and friends. They never say "I love you" to each other (unlike Edward who has a verbal incontinence of cheeseball love metaphors and feigned martyrdom...idiot vampire). R and Julie's love is shown through their sacrifice and selfless respect. They are smart, conscientious people who don't love superficially, but love wholly.

So, yes. The snobby English major is telling you to see this zombie movie. It's freaking adorable, and one of the best portrayals of love that Hollywood has produced in years. Go see it now. That is all.

BRAINS

Love Month: We Need Each Other

First and foremost, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY MAMA!!!!!!!!

Isn't she gorgeous???!

I love you, and happy, happy birthday. I'm currently being a TERRIBLE daughter and am writing from a train that is headed to Virginia. With our school kids on Spring/Winter break, I am taking this vacation to visit friends from school. Hooray for working in education!!!!

Anyway, down to business. I have a question for all my friends who are recent college grads: how are you doing?

That may seem like a trite, routine question, but I'm asking it intentionally, and am looking for an intentional answer. How has life after college been treating you emotionally? Aside from the dismally lame economy and student loans, I want to know how you are. How are you building community? How is your heart?

Why am I prying? I've spoken to many of you in the past couple months. Amid the typical updates about our post-university lives, where we're living, how work is going, I've seen a pattern. Slowly, my college graduate friends will spill the beans about something they are often ashamed to admit: they're lonely. No one warned us about this; there was no "Post-College Life 100" course. Funny thing is, we even think we are alone in our loneliness. Surely, we are the only people feeling this way! We are grasping to build lives for ourselves in a shaky job market, working like steam engines to gain a footing and make enough to survive, and when we punch out for the day, we're lonely.

Maybe college spoiled us. It's not hard to build community when you live in one. There are clubs, fraternities, roommates, and friends just down the hall. We get comfortable, and think that community-building isn't hard at all! We're grownups now, and we can do anything...including making friends. Then commencement happens, and we rejoice and celebrate with this community we've built. It's over! We did it!

Then we go home. We go to a new job, maybe a new apartment or city. Where the heck is everyone? Where are the kids our age who want to go to movies, go grab a drink, go on adventures? Why are we alone? Suddenly, our confidence erodes, and we realize we need to build community all over again. But where? Where do we start? What if our situation is temporary, and we plan to build community somewhere else...eventually?

Confession: I have felt very alone these last few months. I have brilliant, wonderful friends that I get to see, but many of them are moving away, and I get lonely just thinking about that. Some already have moved to take up new jobs, or do silly grown-up things like marry their soulmates and start beautiful lives. It's been hard to be lonely in a grown-up world, but it is getting better. How is it getting better? Hard, brutal work that makes me feel vulnerable, desperate. Like a five-year old on the playground, I feel like I'm walking over to someone my age and asking "do you wanna be my friend?" Talk about humbling. I've often battled with the "what-ifs," and asked myself it if is even worth it in the long run. I don't know where I am going to be next year, or five years from now. What if I build this community, and then have to leave it? It doesn't matter where I may be someday.  I know where I am now. I know we are commanded to be together, to have community, no matter where we are or where we are going.

Hebrews 10:24-25 says "And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.

You can't be alone. It's easier to be alone, but as a friend said once to me "Do hard things." Do the hard things because they are often the worthwhile things. I know its hard, and I am nowhere near where I want to be, but we have to try. Friends, now is not the time to be alone. In this transitional, scary, exciting time in our lives, we need each other more than ever. 

Proverbs 27:17 says "As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another."

You are not alone in your loneliness. Even married people feel lonely sometimes. Building each other up is something we are called to do. I'm not Catholic, but I do observe Lent. This year, I felt called to not just give something up, but to take something on. I've given up recreational computer, and taken on the task of building a community for myself. So far, it sucketh, but I know it has to be done.

So, how are you doing? Do you have any tips for building community? 

LOVE

Love Month: What's Up with Love Day?

I've always had a bizarre relationship with Valentine's Day.

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As a child, I hated it because it was something grownups got to do, and I didn't. Well, let's say I didn't get to fully participate. Of course, my wonderful parents gave us chocolate and cards telling us how much they loved us, but being the shrew that I was, I still felt excluded. It felt like being given dessert at a dinner party, but being sent right to bed while the grownups continued their party downstairs.

When I became a teenager, my Daddy started bringing me home flowers on Valentine's Day. He actually took the time to learn what my favorite flower was, and made sure he brought it home (my Daddy sure knows how to set the bar HIGH). I was more accepting to Valentine's Day then, and decided hostility against the holiday should give way to a gracious apathy. It was also around this time that I began to realize what went on at the party I wasn't yet invited to. HEY! Valentine's Day is for people in relationships!

In late highschool, I gave in to peer pressure, and began calling Valentine's Day "Single Awareness Day" because it seemed completely unfair that only married/dating people got to celebrate a national holiday. I mean, the snobbery of it all! Why shouldn't the singles of the world get to have a national holiday too! In college, "Single Awareness Day" still continued in its own vein, but Valentine's Day is infinitely more fun when you are living  in a dorm with a bunch of girls. Moping about feeling sorry for ourselves gave way to Roomie Dinner. We made berry pancakes, drank sparkling cider, dressed up, and had a fancy dinner by Christmas twinkle lights. I don't think I've ever laughed so hard in my entire life, or had so much fun on a day when, as a single lady, I am cited to be miserable.

Let's say there was a change of heart. I no longer refer to February 14th as "Single Awareness Day." Why? It's not a disease. We have "AIDS Awareness Day," and "Breast Cancer Awareness Month," and "Heart Disease Awareness Day." Singleness is not (nor has it ever been) a disease, and we don't need to be aware of it. We don't need to feel sad because it exists, and God knows people don't need another reason to feel sorry for themselves.

I like to look at the history of holidays, as we so often forget why we keep the tradition we do. So, who was St. Valentine? There are many accounts, and several different versions, of who this man was, but they all follow the same basic plot: he was a man martyred for loving people.

One account refers to a minister who married young couples after Emperor Claudius II outlawed marriage (apparently, he thought single men made better soldiers). He was convicted of defying the emperor and was put to death. Another Valentine was captured after helping Christians escape harsh Roman prisons were they were beaten and tortured. Valentine was put to death.

Call me crazy, but there is nothing in these legends that even remotely resembles a pink teddy bear or cheap chocolate (or feeling sorry for oneself). John 15:13 says "Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends."

Silly humans, we've done it again. We made something all about us, when it was meant to be about other people. What if we revolutionized our conception of February 14th? All you lovely in-love people should probably carry on as before, but what if you did something together that showed loves to others? Break out of your nucleus and love other people together! What if you used the day as an opportunity to volunteer for a worthwhile organization, and then catch dinner or a movie after? Single people, get off your butts, put away whatever crap food you were consoling yourself with, and go show unselfish love to people. You'll feel better, I swear. Want an example? This Love Day, members of my church and community are gathering to hold a benefit dinner for LOVE146, an organization that works to combat child sex-trafficking. I can't think of anything sweeter than to spend this day forged from a selfless man's legacy than to dance the night away with friends and spend time in prayer for those who seriously need it. There are hundreds of opportunities to show love this Thursday.

So, no feeling sorry for yourselves, friends, when you have so much love to give. And in-love people, have fun, be kind, and try to show love in a myriad of ways.

Happy Love Day!

Love Month: Matchless Love

I've often wondered if He's foolish to love us at all.

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We can never love Him the way He loves us. We can love Him with everything we have, and give our hearts and souls with reckless abandon, but we can never match His love. If our lives were books, the reader would hate us, because of how pitifully we return the love of the matchless Lover. I'd hate us. I'd probably throw the book against the wall, declare the protagonist to be an idiot who didn't deserve the One who died for her. She's shortsighted, self-centered, dimwitted, and she breaks His heart every day. I'd hate this character!

Thank God I'm not God. Thank God that He has not thrown His hands up, left us in our muck, and created a new, worthier species to love. That's what makes His love so matchless: it never stops.

Oh sure, God's had His times of righteous rage. Wouldn't you? The entire book of Hosea and most of Isaiah is a furious, grief-stricken lament from God who has had His heart broken too many times. It sounds like an explosive, bitter break-up, but its not. It's a time of anger, then a short separation, but then He comes back. He always comes back because His love cannot end. The remarkable thing is that we, the betraying party, often don't grasp the weight of what we've done to Him. I think we will someday, but we don't get it now.
So, what do we do? What do you do when you are loved like this, but know you can never match it?

You try anyway.

We have to try to not be the character who blatantly ignores the One who is mad for her. We have to try to return the love, even knowing it will never be enough on its own. To love God fully takes everything we have,   and that still only scratches the surface. I believe what He wants more than anything is the surrender of our hearts, and the recognition that He is the only true love we will ever have. Like the man throwing stones at a shut window, He wants us to open the shutters and see Him longing for us.

"How precious and weighty also are Your thoughts to me, O God! How vast the sum of them! If I could count them, they would be more in number than the sand. When I awoke, could I count to the end I would still be with You." Psalm 139: 17-18

Once we acknowledge Him, we listen. Listen to His heart through the reading of His Word. Sit quietly (its hard to do) in His presence, and let Him speak to your heart. Then obey. It's that simple, and it makes that much sense. Christianity is not hard. Humanity is hard, and its the only thing stopping us from being truly great Christians. The only thing stopping us from loving Christ fully, He has given the tools to overcome.

"He has shown you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God." Micah 6:8

Maybe He isn't the foolish lover after all. Maybe we are.

LOVE