Lines on faces…

We don’t want them. I guess we’re afraid of time.

But they’re normal. We all get them. The interesting thing is where they eventually show up and how they get there.

Fear, joy, worry, interest, envy, empathy, disapproval… All these things, and more besides, are what make them appear where they do, little by little.

It’s interesting.

In one of the episodes of his podcast, Seth Godin talks about meeting Isaac Asimov, who wrote more than 500 books in his lifetime. Seth asked him how he did it. Asimov said that he got up every morning and wrote from 6:30-12, no matter what. Some of the writing was good, some was bad; he just wrote.

Then he had 500 books.

And we’re doing much the same thing, getting up every morning, writing something every day, no matter what. Some is good, some is bad; we just write.

Writing lines on our faces.

Kaci and I have lunch together in town sometimes. Most often it’s a sandwich from home. I’ll drive in and we’ll sit in the car and chat or take things along to eat while walking downtown if the weather’s nice.

There’s always something to talk about with Kaci. Today we discussed literature and some favorite British and American authors. We talked about complexity and straightforwardness and different approaches to character development.

There’s always something to talk about.

Later I was thinking about sisters. I have a friend in Asia who was just with hers. They were cooking together and posted pictures of all different sorts of fish and vegetables. I doubt they talked about books, at least not about English literature; but it was probably something interesting though, like the way the ingredients grow or the cost of things at the market, or about how different flavors combine or other ways you can use this or that.

But it’s the same thing. Her with her sister. Me with mine. Conversations over lunch.

Different ways of living, but the same kind of life.

I don’t really understand watercolor…

With other kinds of paint – oils or acrylics, for example – you start with darker colors and then work your way lighter. But with watercolor you start with the light and then build the shadows layer by layer after each dries.

Another thing about watercolor is that you have to let it do its thing. If you like details, better stick with another medium. Watercolor is rather guesswork and area-based. You work with a liquid, not control it like you can a solid.

If feels backward, awkward, counterintuitive. I don’t understand it.

But I’m determined…

A life of faith is like this too. While other kinds of life start with must-do’s and problems to solve and then work their way up to the highlights, with faith you start with the light and then your troubles build depth and meaning to it, layer by layer, one at a time.

Another thing about a life of faith is that it’s letting God do his thing. If you like everything to be just-so, you’ll be unhappy. A life of faith is bringing your colors and then letting go. You work with God, not control him like you can a life for yourself.

It feels backward, awkward, counterintuitive. I don’t understand it.

But I’m determined.

“God always gives us what we need. We just have to know the difference between what we need and what we merely want.”

I was sitting with the women in the church in the Philippines last year, after class on a Sunday. They’d let me say some words about about faith and fear. Since there was time before the worship service began, we stayed together afterward and talked longer. They told me about being Christians and being women and what it’s like for them there.

One of the woman who spoke up is a widow raising two grandchildren. She knows about faith and fear. She talked about how in all her life God has provided for her, and she can clearly see that when she thinks about the difference between what she needs and what she wants. The idea of The Difference has helped me often since. Sometimes I remember her and then remember the lesson; sometimes it’s when I’m fixed on something I want that her words come to mind.

I’m still thinking this through, but maybe there’s a connection between what we want and what we fear. Maybe our wants are born out of our fears — fears of insignificance, fears of sickness and aging, fears of loneliness or other kinds of trouble. We want to make a big difference, to look great and be healthy, to be surrounded with people who think we’re doing well, or any other thing. But maybe God doesn’t always give us what we want because he’s there for the fear things.

And maybe trust is the other side of that, recognizing real needs and how they’re being taken care of. Then that leads to contentment which, perhaps, is faith in disguise.

Fear or faith? Want or need? We just have to know The Difference.

Sunday.

I’m sick again so I stayed home from church and stirred the soup until everyone came home.

I never thought I’d live in Alabama, but I like it. It’s especially quiet out here, off the road. It’s good for thinking and for being something.

Mamma Cat sits outside my window when I’m waking up in the mornings. Red cardinals come through the yard every day. And there are deer.

There will be flowers to plant when it’s warm again; there will be things to paint and repair. Small flowers, little things to make the place better.

It’s not forever, because seasons change. I know. But I feel it now. I’m happy to watch the sun come up, to work with my hands, and to notice small things.

It’s good to know places that let you be something.

There’s a writing mode in WordPress that I find helpful:

“Distraction Free Writing”

In this mode the sidebars fade so that only the writing field is visible. If you use the full-screen function within your browser as well, the combination leaves you with a minimal toolbar and a screen of white space.

No distractions.

WordPress sidebars are where you find your publishing options. They let you customize and present your work. How would you like to format your post? When would you like to publish? Would you like to set a featured image?

These options are nice when your post is ready to present, but the people at WordPress knew that when it comes to writing itself, you need a minimal toolbar and you. Everything else is a distraction.

Sidebars are everywhere in life. We collect them because it feels like they’re there to help us customize ourselves and our image. But while it’s true that these presenting options are great, it’s the difficult, creative, clarifying work that happens a little at a time that makes a life at all.

There are times we need to let the sidebars fade, to sit down with a few tools and some white space and do real work.

Distraction free.

While I’m at Dad and Mom’s I’m going through my belongings and paring down. There are a few things still to sort, but for the most part I’m down to a small closet which holds hang-up clothes, favorite art pieces for someday, a bike helmet and guitar, a smiley-face rug, and my trusty travel backpack. The folded clothes are in canvas totes under my bed and are pulled out as needed.

Downsizing has made me think a lot. Most surprisingly, it’s made me glad about the useless things I’ve kept.

This week the weather warmed up and we worked on prepping the flower beds for spring. I was happy I’d held onto my worn out jeans and oldest sweatshirt. It was nice to still have that pair of shoes with no tread left to grab on my way out the door. I didn’t have to worry about them and worked on the work.

I thought keeping them was just being sentimental, but they ended up saving my nicer things.

It’s hard to know what to keep and what to throw out. You shouldn’t keep everything, but you don’t have get rid of everything either.

Maybe when thinking about simplifying your life the same applies. You don’t need everything that’s taking your time and attention, but you might be glad you kept some favorites.