Having trouble wearing all the hats you own? Lori Roelveld’s blog hit me right between the eyes. She offered that maybe I should sell some of those hats at the next neighborhood garage sale, because maybe they’re not meant for me to wear.
Ever feel like you’re not enough? Consider this, even Jesus wasn’t enough for some people. Check out Lori’s post as she offers insight on discovering freedom … in all the things we’re not.
Ever find that every step you take you feel like you’re two steps behind?
That’s me. My 2016 goals are in place. I have a plan to meet each goal. And they’re good goals, too! The first week of the year went rather smoothly … pacing myself, telling myself You can do this. It’s a piece of cake!
If you’re like me, something happens to throw you off your game. It could be the simple trip to the store for a few things that turns into buying enough supplies to get through Armageddon. Or maybe your neighbor needs you to watch their kids for a while so they can help a relative stricken with the flu. Better yet, your spouse wants to start on that project you’ve been wanting done for years—only they need your supervision.
Writing is wonderful. And there, you will find darlings–those phrases and word pictures that you dearly love. But we need to watch our relationship with these darlings.
Variations on the “murder your darlings” saying, including “kill your darlings” and “kill your babies,” have been handed down in writing workshops and guides for decades, and almost every major 20th century English author has been cited at one time or another. In addition to the common attribution to Faulkner—“In writing, you must kill all your darlings”—which seems to have been popularized in guides to screenwriting in the 1990s, the advice has also been attributed to Oscar Wilde, Eudora Welty, G.K. Chesterton, “the great master Chekov,” and Stephen King, who wrote, “kill your darlings, kill your darlings, even when it breaks your egocentric little scribbler’s heart, kill your darlings.”
Definition: a state or condition permitting clear perception or understanding
Watching as the US hockey team beat the USSR’s team (Miracle on Ice) at the Lake Placid Olympics in 1980. I was focused.
Watching my firstborn pick up a leaf for the first time. He looked at it, turning it over and over, taking in all its splendor. I had never experienced anything as sacred. I was focused.
Having a doctor hold my hand and say, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Luftig, but you have a tumor on your brain about the size of my fist. Do you want a priest? Could I get the hospital chaplain for you?” Focused here, too.