THE WEAKER VESSEL

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. - James 1:17

In an effort to pray more consistently for my church family, I developed a system that helps me remember to pray for every person at Grace Pres. at least once each month. I have a list of Grace members (and others for whom I want to pray regularly) next to my computer, and I have a sticky note "pointer" that I move down the list each day. In the morning, I look at the list to get my new assignment for the day and make a mental note: Pray for Frank and Wendy today! I check the list again in the evening, to remind myself for whom I am to pray in those sleepless wee morning hours that come with being 50-something.

Of course, I pray for some folks more frequently than once a month. Perhaps a medical condition or a family issue or situation at their work comes often to mind, prompting me to pause and pray for them. But the point of my little system is that I want to pray regularly for these precious people, every one of them, and I want to keep praying for them.

I am not a prayer warrior. I have a long history of being irregular, undisciplined, and unintentional in my prayer life. In short, I have a long history of not actually praying very much at all. That's why I am so thankful for the list on my kitchen wall:  it has radically altered my prayer life.

Last night/dark-thirty this morning, I woke up and thought, "I need to pray for Will and Alex." It had been a month since I last prayed for this young couple. They do not regularly attend Grace, but they are still family. They have unique life circumstances that I can only imagine make the day-to-day challenging. I should be praying for this young couple more than once a month.

As I lay thinking about and praying for Will and Alex, I was a little sad that it had been an entire month since I last prayed for them. "Father," I prayed, "please bring these two to mind more often throughout the month. Remind me to pray for them more frequently!"

Which got me to thinking...

I was a pretty prayerless Christian for many, many years. I eventually felt convicted about my prayerlessness, but how was I to change? Based on my experiences in so many other areas of my life, I was confident that no real positive, lasting change would occur in my prayer life unless God himself made the change. So, I asked God to please help me to pray. To pray more often. To pray more thoughtfully. To pray more consistently. To pray more in line with his will.

I am still not a prayer warrior, but my prayer life has definitely changed. Disciplined prayer is no longer a burden, but a delight. God is so good and so faithful!

So, back to Will and Alex...

As I prayed for this young couple and also prayed for God to bring them more often to mind throughout the month, it occurred to me:  Prayer itself is a gift from God. I don't mean the ability to pray, or the opportunity to pray, or the desire to pray (although those things are also gifts from God), but actually praying. From my perspective, it seems like I initiate prayer - like I begin the conversation, take the first step toward God. But last night, it struck me that I would not even be praying at all if God in his goodness had not awakened me and reminded me and given me the desire and drawn me into his presence in the first place. The same is true during the day, whether I am sitting at the kitchen counter with my prayer list and my Bible or driving down the highway.

Every single time I pray, it is like I am unwrapping yet another gift from God.

I lay in bed thinking what good gifts God gives his children, gifts like prayer - It's perfect! Just what I wanted! Thank you so much! - and, given that this is the season of gift-giving, I began thinking of other good gifts He has given me.

Gifts like:

Scripture. Not only has He given me his written Word, but He himself gives me the desire to read it. (On my own, I did not read the Bible regularly. But, just as with prayer, when I asked God to please give me a desire for his Word, He did just exactly that.)

My family - Steve, my awesome kids, my sons- and daughter-in-law, my grandkids, my parents,...

My church family.

My friends, especially those who are also brothers and sisters in Christ.

Health, vigor, and productivity.

After a day out shopping with The Chicken yesterday, I must add to the list of God's good gifts:  sunshine, laughter, food, and Scotty McCreery on the radio,

So many, many good gifts!

But this morning, I got to thinking about gifts that God has given me that I wouldn't initially label as "good"...

Gifts like:

Broken relationships.

Financial challenges.

Chronic pain.

As I considered several of these not-so-good "gifts," I had to repent of my wrong thinking. Broken relationships forced me to rely on God as my true Father and Christ as my dearest and most faithful Friend. Financial stress has been an impetus to new endeavors. Pain gives me empathy with so many others who are hurting and keeps me ever mindful of and eager for Glory.

Again, I am overwhelmed by the realization:  God gives his children such good gifts, only good gifts.

And God's gifts, they are every one perfect.

EVERY GOOD AND PERFECT GIFT

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. - James 1:17

In an effort to pray more consistently for my church family, I developed a system that helps me remember to pray for every person at Grace Pres. at least once each month. I have a list of Grace members (and others for whom I want to pray regularly) next to my computer, and I have a sticky note "pointer" that I move down the list each day. In the morning, I look at the list to get my new assignment for the day and make a mental note: Pray for Frank and Wendy today! I check the list again in the evening, to remind myself for whom I am to pray in those sleepless wee morning hours that come with being 50-something.

Of course, I pray for some folks more frequently than once a month. Perhaps a medical condition or a family issue or situation at their work comes often to mind, prompting me to pause and pray for them. But the point of my little system is that I want to pray regularly for these precious people, every one of them, and I want to keep praying for them.

I am not a prayer warrior. I have a long history of being irregular, undisciplined, and unintentional in my prayer life. In short, I have a long history of not actually praying very much at all. That's why I am so thankful for the list on my kitchen wall:  it has radically altered my prayer life.

Last night/dark-thirty this morning, I woke up and thought, "I need to pray for Will and Alex." It had been a month since I last prayed for this young couple. They do not regularly attend Grace, but they are still family. They have unique life circumstances that I can only imagine make the day-to-day challenging. I should be praying for this young couple more than once a month.

As I lay thinking about and praying for Will and Alex, I was a little sad that it had been an entire month since I last prayed for them. "Father," I prayed, "please bring these two to mind more often throughout the month. Remind me to pray for them more frequently!"

Which got me to thinking...

I was a pretty prayerless Christian for many, many years. I eventually felt convicted about my prayerlessness, but how was I to change? Based on my experiences in so many other areas of my life, I was confident that no real positive, lasting change would occur in my prayer life unless God himself made the change. So, I asked God to please help me to pray. To pray more often. To pray more thoughtfully. To pray more consistently. To pray more in line with his will.

I am still not a prayer warrior, but my prayer life has definitely changed. Disciplined prayer is no longer a burden, but a delight. God is so good and so faithful!

So, back to Will and Alex...

As I prayed for this young couple and also prayed for God to bring them more often to mind throughout the month, it occurred to me:  Prayer itself is a gift from God. I don't mean the ability to pray, or the opportunity to pray, or the desire to pray (although those things are also gifts from God), but actually praying. From my perspective, it seems like I initiate prayer - like I begin the conversation, take the first step toward God. But last night, it struck me that I would not even be praying at all if God in his goodness had not awakened me and reminded me and given me the desire and drawn me into his presence in the first place. The same is true during the day, whether I am sitting at the kitchen counter with my prayer list and my Bible or driving down the highway.

Every single time I pray, it is like I am unwrapping yet another gift from God.

I lay in bed thinking what good gifts God gives his children, gifts like prayer - It's perfect! Just what I wanted! Thank you so much! - and, given that this is the season of gift-giving, I began thinking of other good gifts He has given me.

Gifts like:

Scripture. Not only has He given me his written Word, but He himself gives me the desire to read it. (On my own, I did not read the Bible regularly. But, just as with prayer, when I asked God to please give me a desire for his Word, He did just exactly that.)

My family - Steve, my awesome kids, my sons- and daughter-in-law, my grandkids, my parents,...

My church family.

My friends, especially those who are also brothers and sisters in Christ.

Health, vigor, and productivity.

After a day out shopping with The Chicken yesterday, I must add to the list of God's good gifts:  sunshine, laughter, food, and Scotty McCreery on the radio,

So many, many good gifts!

But this morning, I got to thinking about gifts that God has given me that I wouldn't initially label as "good"...

Gifts like:

Broken relationships.

Financial challenges.

Chronic pain.

As I considered several of these not-so-good "gifts," I had to repent of my wrong thinking. Broken relationships forced me to rely on God as my true Father and Christ as my dearest and most faithful Friend. Financial stress has been an impetus to new endeavors. Pain gives me empathy with so many others who are hurting and keeps me ever mindful of and eager for Glory.

Again, I am overwhelmed by the realization:  God gives his children such good gifts, only good gifts.

And God's gifts, they are every one perfect.

IT'S A BEAUTIFUL LIFE

It happened again last night.

I woke up about 1:00 a.m. to the sound of some distressed critter screeching outside my bedroom window. Then, my eyes started burning.

Another skunk bombed the air intake of the heating system.

I climbed out of bed and turned on the outside lights. No, it wasn't Geoffrey the Glamour Skunk. It was one of his little cousins, a cat-sized black furball with one tiny pouf of white on the top of his head, toodling around in the back yard next to the HVAC unit.

Sigh.

Turning off the outdoor lights, I climbed back into bed and hoped the ladies at my morning exercise class wouldn't be offended by any residue of my new household air freshener.

I love life in the country!

Why?

The varmints. Okay, I am not particularly fond of skunks nosing around the heater or 'possums on the porch or snakes in the hen house, but it is pretty cool to watch deer grazing in the field next to the house in the early morning mist. I love the bunnies that venture timidly out of the woods to nibble grass, and the chipmunks that keep house in the woodpile.

The stars. With no ambient light from shopping centers and street lights, the night sky out here is as black as coal, and the stars - especially in winter - shine so brightly that I almost believe they are alive. Honestly, on a moonless night, a person could get drunk on the starlight out here.

The birds. Even now, in winter, the air is filled with birdsong in the early mornings. Tiny juncos have flown in for the season, their sooty gray bodies peppering the driveway. Sunny yellow goldfinches, saucy blue jays, brilliant cardinals. There is something magical about coming up on a lone blue heron back on the pond, about a flock of wood ducks rocketing off the water in surprise or a red-tail hawk keening overhead.

The trees. I love, love, love the trees in winter, their bare branches stretching skyward like impossibly thin fingers, weaving a lacy veil between me and the far hills.

The sun creeping over the hay field in the morning, turning it from gray to gold to green. The sunset in the evening, setting the entire field on fire.

The smell of mouldering leaves, the earthy aroma of cows and horses, the sharp tang of cedar and of smoke from the chimney.

A cup of hot spiced tea at the end of the day, while I curl up on the couch under a fuzzy blanket to read. Marshmallows toasted in fireplace. Hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and a dash of nutmeg. Christmas cookies! Mmmm!

FUNERAL PLANNING

"Wow. This is like the season of death," my daughter commented.

Within a matter of days, a sweet friend lost her son, a second friend passed away unexpectedly, a third friend lost his father, a fourth friend lost her mother, and another friend was in the hospital fighting for her life.

Seems like we have been attending funerals almost weekly. Maybe it's the funerals, or maybe it's being 50-something, but I've been thinking a lot lately about my own funeral, too.

When folks are sitting in the pews at my send-off celebration, what do I want them to hear? What do I want them to take away when the service is over?

Most emphatically, I do NOT want folks in the pews to be given a litany of my virtues:  "She was a faithful wife, a devoted mother, a prayerful Christian, a godly woman..." No, no, no, and no! Please, no! I do desire to be all of those things; but I am more painfully aware than anyone of how far short I fall of being any of them. Please, at my funeral, just don't even go there.

Rather, I want those gathered to hear about my faithful God and my devoted Savior. I want them to be reminded that Dead Camille is eternally secure not because of anything that I did, but because of what Jesus did on my behalf.

Anything that might be labeled as a Good Work - sacrifices for my family, homeschooling my children, loving and praying for my church, ministry to others... - roll all that stuff in a wad and toss it in the Filthy Rags bin. Don't waste time talking about those things.

Instead, talk about the grace of God. Talk about how God, in his great mercy, pursued this sinful, broken, messed up woman, pursued her and wooed her and won her to himself, and is keeping her for eternity.

Talk about how God was faithful in my life, even when my faith was weak. Talk about how God was good and kind and patient, even when I proved repeatedly how very wicked, unkind, and impatient I could be - both toward him and toward others.

Please, if you love me, I'd rather you not talk about me at all. Talk about my beautiful Jesus instead.

When my funeral is over, I don't want a single person to walk out thinking, "Camille was such a wonderful woman," because I know the truth, and I wasn't.

No! I want every single person - whether they know and love Jesus or not - to walk out saying, "What an amazing God, to love sinful Camille so completely!"

(And after my funeral, if folks want to have a pot-luck with fried chicken and chocolate pie, followed by a jam session and singing, I'm totally okay with that - just in case you're wondering.)

PSYCHOLOGY OF CAN'T

Don't let success go to your head. Don't let failure go to your heart.

- Tim Keller

In some ways, I feel like I have been living in the Land of Can't for longer than I can remember. On bad days, I wonder if I have ever lived anywhere else. What is it that you want to do or think you need? Ummm, nope, can't do/have that.

Think you need some face time? Too bad - can't have it. Too busy. No time. Want to finish the upstairs bathroom? Can't. Nothing in the budget for household projects or repairs. Think maybe you should have the doctor check out that strange lump? Nope, can't afford the deductible. You want some consistent time in your day to sit down and write? Too bad. Can't.

The sad thing about hearing or experiencing "can't" so frequently is that I begin to think that "can't" is the only possible answer, ever, always. And so I quit asking, quit trying, quit entertaining any thoughts at all about what I think I want or need. I can't imagine any possibility except "can't." Too much "can't" for too long, and I completely forget there is such a thing as "can."

I was keeping one of the grandbabies recently. She was following me from my bedroom to the laundry room. As we walked through the bathroom, she pointed at the toilet. "No, no!" she said. Then she toddled over and rested her hand on the toilet tissue dispenser. Smiling up at me with her big blue eyes, she repeated, "No, no!"

When we reached the kitchen, she pointed at the tall kitchen trash can. "No, no," she piped.

Then she crossed the room to a cabinet containing plastic storage containers and proceeded to empty its contents onto the floor.

Helping Grandma in the kitchen!

My granddaughter understands that some things are off limits. She doesn't bother those things. She also knows that some things are okay for her to have, and she enjoys those things enthusiastically.

I have learned "No, no!" well. I've probably learned it too well.

Now, I need to learn "Yes." Now, I need to learn "Can."

WRITING AND FINANCES, PART 3

Speaking of Great-grandmother, that extraordinarily industrious, resourceful, straight-forward, vigorous woman who provided for her six children after her husband's untimely death...

Sometimes, a legacy of such strength and industriousness is inspiring. Sometimes, it makes me feel remarkably weak and, by comparison, abysmally unproductive.

So, back to this week's theme:  Camille's Squirrelly Address on Financial Aspects of Being a Writer...(You thought yesterday's post about Great-grandmother's obscene phone caller was a bit random? No, actually, there is a connection!)

In Part 1, I wrote about the very conservative goals I set for my first year in the writing business and about how God graciously allowed me to meet those goals. In Part 2, I told how a friend once challenged me concerning giving, and I shared how Year 2 allowed me to step out in faith in this area in a small way.

As I work at this new little enterprise, I have additional financial concerns on my mind as well, besides business expenses and tithing and Christmas presents and ministry support and gas for the van. I have actually been mulling these other concerns over for years. Today, I am going to try to articulate these concerns in Part 3 of Camille's Squirrelly Address on Financial Aspects of Being a Writer.

For the nearly 30 years that I have been a mother, I have made a full-time job of cooking meals, washing and folding laundry, sweeping and mopping floors, nursing and diapering babies, and schooling my awesome children. When I have worked outside of the home, it was always at jobs that allowed me to work at night, after dinner was cooked and Steve was home from work and the babies were tucked in bed.

(I once worked nights at Kroger as a cashier. My supervisor accidentally scheduled me to work days one week. I explained to her that, with six little kids at home, it cost me more per hour to pay for a babysitter than I was making per hour at Kroger. Every hour I worked during the daytime put me in the hole several dollars. Graciously, my supervisor immediately redid that week's work schedule!)

While I do not regret one tiny iota of the time and energy that I have poured into my work at home, one regret that I have long struggled with is that I have not been able to help my family more financially. The few jobs I worked and the little income I earned were only intended to provide temporary financial help during specific emergencies.

Others have helped our family financially over the years in too many ways to list. My in-laws paid closing costs for the first house we purchased. My brother and sister-in-law paid to have air-conditioners installed in our air-conditioner-less house one hot summer. My sister and brother-in-law helped repeatedly with car repairs. Friends from church actually paid for and installed a new roof on our house one time, and others kept our big family fed and clothed during lean times. I am so very thankful for all of the precious people who have helped us over the years - thinking about each of them has me sitting here smiling and crying tears of gratitude!

I am thankful, too, that all of our children have grown up to be hard-working and resourceful. They have paid for their own clothes, their own college educations, and, if they have them, their own vehicles. They each know how to stretch a dollar. They know how to ferret out really good bargains, and they aren't ashamed to shop at Goodwill. I occasionally hear other parents talking about how their kids are constantly asking for money - for school field trips, for gas, for cell phones, etc. Our kids have never done that. On the contrary, they have often been the ones to help Mom and Dad out in a pinch!

I do not feel like a failure as a parent because we didn't give each kid a car when he left for college or because they paid for their own cell phone plans. I also don't feel like my kids think of me as a second-class mom because I couldn't buy them trendy clothes or the latest technology. I suppose some sour children might complain that their parents don't do enough for them financially, but not mine - rather, my kids honestly make me feel like a Queen Mother.

I have long wished that I could give to my family with the kind of generosity with which they have given to me. Scripture nowhere tells me that, as an adult child, I should expect or demand the kind of generosity I have received from my parents and my in-laws. Scripture nowhere tells me that, as a parent, I should expect or demand the kind of generosity I have already received from my own children. Scripture nowhere authorizes me to look up the family tree or down the family tree and say, "You owe me this!"

Scripture does, however, speak to me about my own responsibilities, both as an adult child and as a parent of young adults. God's Word admonishes me to provide for my parents if they need my help in their old age. God's Word admonishes me to provide for my children and to endeavor to leave an inheritance for the next generation. Emotionally, mentally, spiritually, I have worked very hard for many years to do just exactly that. Financially, however, I have not provided generously for either my aging parents or my children.

We are all familiar with the Proverbs 31 Woman, right? She's The Perfect Woman, the one that so completely intimidates messes like me. I once heard a sermon on Proverbs 31 in which the pastor explained that the Proverbs 31 Woman was an ideal:  all that was good and best about an exemplary woman's entire life painted into a single portrait. The pastor went on to explain that women experience different seasons of life, when they are called to different tasks.

Some seasons are heavy on nurturing babies and educating children. Some seasons are heavy on household maintenance and management. And then some seasons provide opportunities for enterprise outside of the home. We are not called to do all of these things all of the time, working with exceeding excellence in every sphere simultaneously; rather, we are called to make the most of the different opportunities given to us during the different seasons of our lives.

My children are growing up and starting lives and families of their own. I have much less laundry and cooking to do these days, and Helen and I are nearing the end of the last set of school books. I am hoping that in this new season of life, my little writing business will grow into an enterprise that will enable me, finally, to financially bless my family - both my parents and my children - in the years ahead.

I am amazed at and grateful for the Great Big Little Things God allowed me to accomplish in Year 1 and Year 2 as a writer. I am jumping into Year 3 with prayer, determination and excitement, eager to see what He has in store for me next.

And I am thankful for strong women like Great-grandmother, women who have lived out before me what it means to be faithful with little and faithful with much. Great-grandmother was a beautiful woman - I am grateful for the legacy she left me.


But if anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever. - 1 Timothy 5:8

For children are not obligated to save up for their parents, but parents for their children. - 2 Corinthians 12:14b

GLAD I'M NOT A MIDDLE-AGED MAN!

My name is Camille.

French origin. In the past, typically a man's name. In modern day America, more often a woman's name.

I am guessing it is my name that serves as a cue for internet businesses that send out bulk spam-mails, because it's certainly not my internet usage.

Based on the subject bars of my email junk box, the greatest challenges confronting middle-aged men in America right now are: hair loss, erectile dysfunction, a shortage of young leggy Russian internet brides, and the high cost of divorce.

Seriously?!!!

I always delete these messages without reading them. "Empty Junk" is such a wonderful tool. But secretly, I wish I had some way of responding that actually punched back, that knocked the wind out of the spamming sails.

Maybe I feel this way because I have some of Great-grandmother's blood running in my veins.

Great-grandmother gave birth to and raised six children. Her husband died when their oldest child - my grandmother - was only sixteen, and Great-grandmother was left to manage and provide for that big family on her own. She was smart, tough, resourceful, and direct, and she didn't take nonsense off of anyone.

I remember visiting Great-grandmother when she was on up into her 90's. She still kept up her own house and yard, she maintained a flock of chickens for eggs and meat, and she cultivated a huge vegetable garden. She made the best fried peach pies and cornbread I ever ate.

Great-grandmother lived in the day before internet and home computers and cell phones. She did, however, have one of those old black rotary phones - you know, the kind with a thick black cord, that connected to a land-line. That rotary phone, the local newspaper, and the beauty shop were her windows to the world.

One day, Great-grandmother got an obscene phone call. That's the old-school equivalent of today's trashy spam. Obscene phone calls were less common and vulgar than the garbage dumped into our email junk boxes today, but they were still offensive and a nuisance.

The phone rang. Great-grandmother answered it, but heard only heavy breathing coming from the earpiece. She simply placed the handset back on its cradle, which disconnected the call.

Some time later, the phone rang again. Great-grandmother answered it. Once again, she heard only heavy breathing from the caller, so she simply hung up the phone without saying a word.

The third time this happened, Great-grandmother held the handset to her ear for a minute, and then she addressed the caller:  "I don't know who you are, or what kind of jollies you're getting from calling this number, but listen here young man," she snapped, "I am a 92-year-old great-great-grandmother. My tits are so long I can tuck them into the waistband of my skirt without even leaning over. I'd sure like to know what kind of a buzz you're getting from calling a 92-year-old woman, mister."

Well, this time, it was the prankster who terminated the phone call. And he never called back again. Ever.

If Great-grandmother were still alive today, I'm sure she'd find a way to put a stop to the trash in my email junk box. If Great-grandmother were alive today, she'd probably know how to take care of this so effectively that I wouldn't even need a junk box at all.

WRITING AND FINANCES, PART 2

Yesterday, I wrote about my personal financial goals my first year as a paid writer and how that first year worked out for me. I encouraged you other budding writers out there to set thoughtful personal financial goals (it's okay if they are small!) and to make giving a part of your plan.

To recap:  Year One, I published a book and a few magazine articles and had a few speaking engagements. I met my goals of tithing and buying Christmas gifts for my kids, covered all my book-business expenses (transportation, marketing, etc.), bought gas and groceries a few times when household funds ran low, and ended the year with about $200 in the bank. According to my economic philosophy, that was success.

Today, I want to continue Camille's Squirrelly Address on Financial Aspects of Being a Writer by telling you about Year Two in my writing-for-pay adventure. This part of my story may sound like somewhat of an upside-down tale, but for me, it has been an exciting journey.

Long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away, I was challenged by a friend who lived a lifestyle of generous giving. She had lots of money at her disposal, so of course, she could give lots of it away. I admired her generosity and wondered:  if I ever had the resources, could I follow her example?

We all know people who, no matter how much money they make, never seem to have enough. But my friend, unlike these other folks, consistently and deliberately practiced the discipline of living on only a fraction of her available income and of being content with that smaller portion. Her philosophy was not "How much more can I afford to buy/spend/live on if I have a bigger paycheck?" - but - "How much more can I give away to support Kingdom work/ministry?"

Just on the off chance that I might someday strike it rich, I asked my friend for advice on the discipline of giving. First, she encouraged me not to wait until I struck it rich, but to develop a habit of giving from whatever small portion I might be allotted. Her advice was something like this:  "If you have a little, give a little. If you have a lot, give a lot. If you wait until you have 'extra' to give, if you give only out of what you have left over, you will never feel like you have enough and you will never give in a meaningful way. Give from the beginning, even if it's only a small amount."

Second, my friend encouraged me to research ministries I wanted to support, to invest in ministries with which I had a personal tie and with which I could maintain ongoing personal relationships.

Those conversations about deliberate giving happened several years ago, so I've had plenty of time to meditate on my friend's advice. When I published Book 1, I did not have dreams of Grand Income and Grand Giving. I had modest expectations and I set modest goals. God very graciously allowed me to realize those expectations and to meet those goals. Nothing big...I was taking baby steps. But still, I ended Year One excited about the year ahead.

Year Two, I published Book 2 and a few more articles, and I had a few speaking engagements. Maybe Year Two would be the year I made the Big Time? Maybe?! Just in case, I began researching ministries in which I might want to invest.

I continued to tithe. I set aside a little now and then for Christmas gifts for my kids. I started saving up to have my website (hopefully!) revamped by a professional. And, after quite a bit of research and prayer, I had a list of three ministries that I knew I wanted to support...when I was making more money, of course.

Half-way through Year Two, however, I had saved only a fraction of the amount budgeted for the website revamp, and I felt like Big Giving (or, in my case, Not-so-Big-But-Still-Very-Exciting Giving) was never going to be a reality.

I was selling books, but I felt like a hamster on a wheel. No matter how many books I sold, it would never amount to much:  whatever money I earned would need to go right back into the book business, so that I could hopefully sell more books, so that I could spend more on marketing, so that I could sell more books, etc. I realized that there would never be any extra left over from my little writing enterprise to devote to things of eternal value.

I was enjoying writing. I was selling books. But I felt discouraged. I prayed for the three ministries I wanted to support financially, and I asked God week after week, "When will I be able to give?!!"

Well, after several frustrating weeks, God answered my prayer. He simply said, "Now."

No, book sales did not increase dramatically. No, I did not get an offer for a Tatum County movie contract. Rather, I simply remembered my friend's advice from years ago:  "If you wait until you have 'extra' to give, if you give only out of what you have left over, you will never feel like you have enough and you will never give in a meaningful way." In waiting until I had 'enough left over' to give, I discovered the paradox that enough...never is.

The challenge I faced was not having enough to give, but caring enough to give out of what little I did have. God didn't give me a lot of money, and He wasn't calling me to be faithful with a lot of money. Rather, He gave me a little bit of income and then challenged me to be faithful with that little bit.

In a peculiar, round-a-bout way, I became aware of pressing needs of one of the particular ministries for which I had been praying and which I desired to one day support. Was this God urging me to step out in faith? If I committed to supporting this ministry, would I be able to stay faithful to that commitment? What if my book sales dropped? What would I do then?

I spent a day wrestling through these and other questions. Surely it was not time to expand giving yet, not on the little income trickling into my book account. But I came back over and over to one question:  "If not now, when?"

I took a deep breath and stepped off the hamster wheel.

I wrote a letter to the ministry - the first one on my list - and explained my situation and that I wanted to commit to supporting their work with a certain amount each month. It wasn't a huge amount, but it seemed huge by my economic standards. I enclosed my first payment in the letter, and, with trembling hands, put the envelope in the mailbox.

I was more than a little scared. I was even more excited. Is this what it feels like, walking by faith?

After nervously mailing the letter, I sat down in the kitchen with my writing-business record books. I had enough money in the bank to meet this new financial commitment for several months (the website revamp could just wait), but then what? How could I be sure I would have the funds needed to continue to support this ministry?

If I wanted to honor my financial commitment, I needed to sell books, plain and simple. Marketing is not my favorite aspect of this business - I'd rather just write! But, with a new reason for wanting to sell books, I resolved that afternoon to try to schedule at  least two book events each month. Book fairs, speaking engagements, book-signings - I needed to get out and pound the pavement!

And this is where the story of Year Two gets really interesting....

I already had two book events scheduled for July and one event for August. Before the end of the week, I was asked to speak at a second event in August and I received an out-of-the-blue invitation to address a civic organization in September. Then came an email asking me to give a writing workshop at an out-of-town library and the opportunity for an interview on a talk-radio program.

Since mailing that letter back on the first day of July, I have consistently had at least two book or speaking events each month - and, amazingly, most of these opportunities have come to me without my even looking for them!

Thankfully - hallelujah! - I have been able to consistently support a ministry that is dear to my heart.

At the end of Year Two of being a paid writer, I have around $200 in my book account, about the same as at the end of Year One. Doesn't look like I'm making much progress financially, does it?

But, I have met my goals:  I have been able to support my awesome church through tithing, I'm wrapping gifts for each of my kids this Christmas, I bought groceries and gas a couple of times when household funds ran short, AND I have given to a ministry that I love in a way I wouldn't have thought possible only a year ago.

God has not given me a late model vehicle or a new wardrobe or a big movie deal, but He has given me something better:  through my little writing business, He has given me an opportunity to be a blessing in some small way to someone else.

I am totally stoked! And I am super excited about Year Three!!!

WRITING AND FINANCES, PART I

I had the privilege of speaking to several local 4-H clubs a couple of months ago. For the current school year, Agent Anderson is inviting various folks to tell students about their jobs, and she asked me to talk to students about being a writer.

One very practical question asked by a couple of students was:  "How much money do you make as a writer?"

My answer? "Enough."

Of course, what these young people really wanted to know was:  "Can I make a lot of money quickly/easily as a writer?"

Well, maybe so...but probably not.

My experience (which, according to the little bit of research I have done, is pretty typical) has been that it takes time to develop markets for my writing and to build a readership. This is a slow process. If my goal had been to get rich quickly, I would have thrown in the towel long ago. Thankfully, the pleasure of writing itself is enough motivation for me to keep plugging along, even without substantial financial rewards.

However, the financial aspect of being a writer is something to which I have devoted serious thought. As a writer, do I have specific financial goals? If so, what are those goals? Are they realistic and obtainable? Am I making progress toward meeting those goals? What can I do to better achieve my goals?

Today and in the days ahead - as I have time to write here at the blog! - I want to share a little bit about the financial aspect of my own journey as a writer. I want to look at questions like:  Do I really want my writing to generate an income? If so, why? And, how much income is enough?

Why on earth do I want to tackle this particular topic? And why right now? First, several issues related to a personal philosophy of income/money have been percolating in my brain lately, and here at the blog is where I often work through my jumbled thoughts.

Second, as a person identified as a member of various communities (family, church, homeschooler, politically conservative, etc.), I want to clarify and articulate what I believe as an individual, because I have found that others - even those very close to me - can make wrong assumptions about what I think based on the opinions of those around me.

Finally, I truly hope that other just-getting-started writers will be encouraged and challenged by some of the things I have learned thus far on my writing journey. So, let's get started!

A little back story...

Since giving birth to my first child 25+ years ago, I have worked outside the home only when financial crises demanded:  to help make ends meet when my husband's job as an intern architect couldn't support a family of eight; to cover medical bills; etc. Everything I earned at these temporary, part-time jobs was tagged for specific bills. I never entertained the question of what to do with any discretionary income, because I never had any discretionary income!

Then I wrote and published and began marketing my first book. No, I was not raking in the big bucks, but, for the first time in nearly 30 years, I was able to ask, "What do I want to do with this $20?" I wanted to answer that question - and spend that $20 - very thoughtfully. After several decades with no discretionary income, twenty dollars felt like a tremendous privilege and a not-insignificant responsibility!

The year I published that first book, I set two modest financial goals:  I wanted to support the ministry of my church, and I wanted to buy Christmas presents for each of my kids. (Yes, I know experts advise you to set specific financial goals - such as making $60,000/year - but I simply was not that brave or optimistic!)

The beauty of the tithe is that it is a grace you can enjoy no matter how much you earn. Whether I sold two books or twenty in a given week, whether I made two dollars or two hundred, I was delighted to be able to give back ten-percent to the work of my local church!

Randy Alcorn once described tithing as the Christian's "training wheels" for giving. Tithing helps us to develop a proper theology of material wealth. Tithing gives us a tangible, very sweet reminder that our security is in God, not in our finances, thus liberating us from the tyranny of wealth. Tithing is where we learn to use our income (however small!) as a tool for kingdom work, and it enables us to participate in something much larger than ourselves, something eternal. Tithing also fosters a deep sense of God-centered gratitude.

That first year, I was also able to buy Christmas presents for each of my kids. Nothing extravagant - only about $20 per person - but being able to give even small gifts made me feel rich.

Amazingly, I sold enough books to also help support a couple of young people serving in short-term missions, and I was able to occasionally cover the cost of gas, groceries, and music lessons when our household funds ran short.

Did I make a million dollars with the publication of my first book? No. Did I consider myself financially successful? Absolutely. I finished out that first year as a "paid writer" with just under $200 in my book account, but I felt as rich as Solomon. I had paid all my writing-related expenses, I met (and exceeded) my financial goals, and I still had money in the bank. I was eager to see what would happen in Year Two!

To conclude Part One of Camille's Squirrelly Address on Financial Aspects of Being a Writer:

If you are a beginning writer, I encourage you to set thoughtful financial goals for yourself. Personally, I'm a fan of modest goals, at least at the outset. I suppose my goals that first year sound paltry to some folks, but those goals gave me something to work toward without being unrealistic or completely unobtainable.

I also challenge you to make giving a top priority right from the very beginning. You don't have to be on the New York Times Bestseller List in order to give a portion of what you make. Do not be tightfisted - what resources God places in your hands, hold loosely. Start with the tithe (training wheels, remember?). Learn to ride that bike, and who knows where it will take you!

I can't wait to tell you about Year Two - will try to post that info tomorrow!