Recently I started reading Donald Miller's new book that Shane picked up earlier this summer. I loved Blue Like Jazz, one of his previous books. I think I read it in a couple sittings and couldn't wait for the next witty chapter that unfolded his stories of inadequacy, faith, and doubt. Like most of us we could relate to many of his inner thoughts and personal battles that many spiritual books leave out, leaving us feeling alone in our struggles and misunderstood in our journey.
I thought that his newest book A Million Miles in a Thousand Years would read similarly for me, but like any book you have read numerous times or author you have returned to, you never read it with the same eyes or as the same person, so the words seem to fall on different ears. True confession-I am only a third of the way through the book so I am not at all trying to offer some sort of lowbrow book review, but more a commentary on how a story can show a reader who and where they are.
As I started reading the book I found myself hoping the story would start to "go" somewhere soon. I am usually a pretty patient reader and can finish a "bad" book with hopes that the last page will somehow redeem the entire thing-but I soon found myself getting annoyed. The subtitle of the book is What I Learned While Editing My Life so I should have known this was going to be an introspective journey right? Still I found myself frustrated and becoming critical of the author (which is easy to do when I don't have to stare him in the face but can simultaneously read his deepest and most fearful thoughts on the page). Partially I think I was frustrated because I wanted to tell him to buck up, have more confidence, not be so hard on himself, and ultimately to stop sounding so darn pathetic. This wasn't just some character in a book it was a real guy, someone I thought I had once connected with but was dealing with the reality that maybe we had grown apart? There were many things I said under my breath and to myself but what frustrated me most of all was all the constant talk about himself and how he was feeling, or what he was thinking, or what he was thinking about what he was thinking. He was so stinkin' self aware and it was driving me crazy! He even asks in the beginning of one of his earlier chapters "When did I become one of those people that writes about themselves"? He was getting annoyed with himself an I could only feel the same. I soon realized that the person I was really annoyed with was not Mr. Miller, but myself.
Lately I have become so annoyed with myself. Have you ever had that feeling? No one has to spend more time with me than me, and let me tell you sometimes enough is enough and I need to sit myself down for a good old "Lord of the Rings' Smeagol vs. Gollum" talking to. Living with myself wouldn't be half as bad if I weren't constantly aware of it. My own self awareness only ever leads to despair. I spend so much time over analyzing and despairing over my seemingly less than sanctified behavior and thoughts. I am always wondering how my circumstances are shaping me, if I've allowed them too, and which areas are still needing improvement. Its exhausting, and while I try to become who I think I am supposed to be I end up missing the mark completely as I try to take the reigns from God and micro manage my own journey of sanctification.
Like most of us, I would do well if I simply took my own advice most of the time (or at least advice I have at one time or another stolen from someone wiser and passed along). It's not that I am just passing along empty hopeful sounding words I don't believe in to make someone feel better. They are words that I once trusted and lived out and passed along because they sincerely transformed me. My pastor once said in a sermon that if you are feeling out of sorts, depressed, or in a funk (my hand is raised at this point), stop thinking of yourself, get your focus on others and you will be surprised how your feelings change. That was my paraphrase-but its never let me down. Instead of thinking about myself I am called to keep my eyes focused on Christ, abide in Him and let him take care of the rest. Abiding is such a tricky little thing-it sounds so easy because its simple, and I wish it could just be both.
I thought that his newest book A Million Miles in a Thousand Years would read similarly for me, but like any book you have read numerous times or author you have returned to, you never read it with the same eyes or as the same person, so the words seem to fall on different ears. True confession-I am only a third of the way through the book so I am not at all trying to offer some sort of lowbrow book review, but more a commentary on how a story can show a reader who and where they are.
As I started reading the book I found myself hoping the story would start to "go" somewhere soon. I am usually a pretty patient reader and can finish a "bad" book with hopes that the last page will somehow redeem the entire thing-but I soon found myself getting annoyed. The subtitle of the book is What I Learned While Editing My Life so I should have known this was going to be an introspective journey right? Still I found myself frustrated and becoming critical of the author (which is easy to do when I don't have to stare him in the face but can simultaneously read his deepest and most fearful thoughts on the page). Partially I think I was frustrated because I wanted to tell him to buck up, have more confidence, not be so hard on himself, and ultimately to stop sounding so darn pathetic. This wasn't just some character in a book it was a real guy, someone I thought I had once connected with but was dealing with the reality that maybe we had grown apart? There were many things I said under my breath and to myself but what frustrated me most of all was all the constant talk about himself and how he was feeling, or what he was thinking, or what he was thinking about what he was thinking. He was so stinkin' self aware and it was driving me crazy! He even asks in the beginning of one of his earlier chapters "When did I become one of those people that writes about themselves"? He was getting annoyed with himself an I could only feel the same. I soon realized that the person I was really annoyed with was not Mr. Miller, but myself.
Lately I have become so annoyed with myself. Have you ever had that feeling? No one has to spend more time with me than me, and let me tell you sometimes enough is enough and I need to sit myself down for a good old "Lord of the Rings' Smeagol vs. Gollum" talking to. Living with myself wouldn't be half as bad if I weren't constantly aware of it. My own self awareness only ever leads to despair. I spend so much time over analyzing and despairing over my seemingly less than sanctified behavior and thoughts. I am always wondering how my circumstances are shaping me, if I've allowed them too, and which areas are still needing improvement. Its exhausting, and while I try to become who I think I am supposed to be I end up missing the mark completely as I try to take the reigns from God and micro manage my own journey of sanctification.
Like most of us, I would do well if I simply took my own advice most of the time (or at least advice I have at one time or another stolen from someone wiser and passed along). It's not that I am just passing along empty hopeful sounding words I don't believe in to make someone feel better. They are words that I once trusted and lived out and passed along because they sincerely transformed me. My pastor once said in a sermon that if you are feeling out of sorts, depressed, or in a funk (my hand is raised at this point), stop thinking of yourself, get your focus on others and you will be surprised how your feelings change. That was my paraphrase-but its never let me down. Instead of thinking about myself I am called to keep my eyes focused on Christ, abide in Him and let him take care of the rest. Abiding is such a tricky little thing-it sounds so easy because its simple, and I wish it could just be both.
Well there ya go Donald Miller.....a whole blog....all about me. . . sigh.
-M.W.
-M.W.
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