S.D. Smith's Blog, page 40

We got to hear this gent sing along with Andrew Peterson’s “Behold the Lamb of God” tour at Christmas. Amazing.

It was a good one. Yes, 2014 was a wonderful year for us for so many reasons. There was pain and darkness, like always in the world as it is, but overall it felt like a year of healing and hope, of rest and new life. It was a year of surprising adventures and, as the man who loved cliches once said, dreams come true.

Last year was a year of lasting goodness. I loved it. May I have another, please? So many years end with a butcher’s bill of carnage, a catalogue of hurts that goes on and on and on. The previous few years had been heavy on hurt. 2014 had those too, but they were less effective at wrecking our hope. And we were given heaps of goodness!

I’m deeply grateful to have been on the receiving end of so much light and love, so much generosity and grace.

Thank you, whoever you are. You were probably a part of making it a special year.

Glory to God the Father, the Holy Spirit, and King Jesus who makes all things new.

I know. I know. The New Year means new heartaches. Old wounds will revisit us. New pains await us. New hurts coil in the darkness.

It is what it is…but it is not what it shall be. 

May the living God bless you all in the New Year and beyond, all the way to Kingdom come and the dawning of the True New World.

Cheers!

This was our family at Easter, about to burn a box of regrets. Because Jesus is alive and welcomes us into his family. We are beloved of God. 

Note: This is the first part of a post that’s up over at For the Family, so go ahead and go there if you want to skip this tease…

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I peruse twitter and, despite my half-hearted efforts at censoring them, the ubiquitous quotes on maximizing success just cannot be stopped. These success quote manufacturers must be reading their own material, because it is impossible to escape their indestructible mission to inspire us all to death.

They use words like maximize, success, power, strategy, synergy, quotient, and sometimes even “impactful.” Impactful is probably one of the top five most impactful words that don’t exist.

I sometimes engage in a parody of this Twitter Phenomenon with my highly-rated #successing tweets. Here are a few:

Top executives in the game get after the flow of business and POWER to the quotations of EXCELLENCE. Dream money achieve it!   # successing

Lead everyday in the LEADERSHIP to WIN and find the glory to gut it out of the EXPERIENCE to power on success.  # successing

Success means believing it to the fight take all the momentum and DREAM IT and power through! Sell it every day money!  # successing

OK. You get the idea.

There’s a sometimes shady bridge between the #Successing Industry and the #churching industry. Entrepreneurial church planters with young, type A, CEO/Lead Pastor guys love to maximize some impactful quotients.

[Insert all those caveats you’re thinking of.]

How Do We Define Success?

I have a friend who is an incredible songwriter. His name is Andrew Peterson. I like to try to work in calling him “my friend” in as many situations as possible. I feel like it lends me the stank of legitimacy. Anyway, one of my favorite stories that Andrew tells about one of my favorite Andrew songs, is this.

He and his wife Jamie were at a retreat teeming with intellectuals and artists. They were in small groups, going around in turn talking about how they were shedding light in the darkness. As each artistic intellectual spoke of his grand idea to fight the darkness, followed by each intellectual artist, Andrew grew nervous about what pressure Jamie might be feeling. This was his crowd, and he knew the language, but she hadn’t been to as many of these kinds of things because she spent most of her time at home taking care of their family. The question finally came to Jamie.

What are you doing to shed light in the darkness?

“I’m shedding light in the darkness by raising these three children in the Lord,” she said.

Andrew said he believed it was the best answer, and one that humbled himself and the others present.

He talks about how he hears from people who have been blessed by his music, but began to feel how wrong it was that no one ever emails moms to tell them that what they’re doing is beautiful and pushing back the darkness. So he wrote Planting Trees to them all, but especially Jamie.

You don’t have to change the world, only the little part of it in your care. Change the world slowly. Small is the new big. Slow is the new fast.

What is really lasting and what is really passing away?

Read the Rest at For the Family…

Today I’m super happy to be featured over at my friend Sally Clarkson’s blog. (And yes, I’m bragging about being friends with such a cool person.) She very generously asked me to write a post and do a giveaway at her site. As a big fan of Sally’s work, and that of her whole family, I’m really grateful. (By the way, have you ordered her new book yet? Get that!) Since Sally’s ministry is aimed at the hearts of moms, I wrote something on that theme. Also, if you’ll pop over to her site, you’ll see she’s giving away signed copies of my novel, The Green Ember, to 10 of her readers. Go on over, or read the beginning of the post here. –Sam

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The Man Who Saved Narnia & the Woman Who Saved The Green Ember

We almost never made it through the wardrobe and into Narnia. It was a close call.  Stung by the strident criticisms of his close friend, J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis was ready to abandon his Narnia series before it was ever published. Lewis was deeply hurt and discouraged because he respected Tolkien’s opinion so much. For his part, Lewis had been a longtime proponent of Tolkien’s own work. If not for the entrance of Roger Lancelyn Green, we would never have found our own way into Narnia.

Imagine that.

So what magical power did Roger Green exert on his friend and former tutor? What elixir was mixed or what castle stormed to save this magical tale from oblivion? I’ll tell you. Roger Green had words, words of encouragement, when they were most needed. Green’s enthusiasm and encouragement, by Lewis’s own admission, saved the whole project. What potent power lies in encouraging words.

My own story was, to borrow an expression, saved by childbirth. Specifically, my story would not exist were it not for the woman who gave birth to me and first read to me of Narnia. My mother believed–well, believes–in me. I have lost count of the encouraging encounters I’ve had with my mom related to my own writing dream. But it was when I was a child that her encouragement took root. I had never met an author, and you might as well have told me I was going to go to the moon as write books. But Mom convinced me it was possible. She encouraged me. So I worked on stories as a boy, and dared to dream. She always believed, even when I didn’t.

I’m 37. It’s been a long road, but my first novel is out in the world. The Green Ember is the fulfillment of a lifelong dream. More, it might be a gateway to light for a child somewhere, perhaps one I don’t even know. That’s an incredible thought to me….

READ THE REST AT Sally Clarkson…

This is my regular (from now on) email update. Blast to Smithereens! If you aren’t signed up for my newsletter, why don’t you correctify that? I would greatly appreciate it! Also, if you can think of a better name than what my brother Will came up with, I’d love to hear it. As Shakespeare once said in an email, “Have a blast, ya’ll.”

–Your friend and mine,

Sam

Greetings Urflings,

For a person who writes at at least three blogs and engages in the morally iffy activities of Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter, I’m still pretty uneasy with self-revelation. So, it’s with some fear and trembling that I begin this venture into a regular update.

November was a good month, and, since we’re catching up from the previous months, I’ve had a pretty good life. Thanks for asking.

The launch of my first novel, The Green Ember, was incredible. We had an amazing experience, one we’ll never forget. We are so grateful to everyone who gave us this gift. I wrote a bit of a summary of our experience here.  

My beautiful wife Gina wrote a lovely post about our packing and shipping adventure here. All I can add is that it was an incredible privilege to see those names and addresses from all over the world go on boxes piling higher and higher. It was delightful, humbling, and fed our gratitude like a feast.

Many people wrote to us afterwards to lament that they missed the Kickstarter. You will be punished by having pebbles thrown at you by infants, with nothing to protect you but full suits of medieval armor. But there is one way to escape this torturous trial.

You can order the book right now at our store. It will ship immediately. Also, if you’re looking for multiple copies for gifts, we are selling The Green Ember in discounted bundles of 5 and 10.

You may also order it at Amazon:

Speaking of Amazon, would you please rate and write a review of The Green Ember there? Again, it helps so much. Thank you!

If you share your experience with the book, please use #RabbitsWithSwords and/or #TheGreenEmber as hashtags. Thank you!

I got to speak at The Rabbit Room’s Hutchmoot conference recently and as always it was an incredible privilege. Far better than speaking was the privilege of being there and being around such wonderful people. It’s something I am astonished at every year. This year, I was asked to read from The Green Ember. What an honor. I’m so grateful for Andrew Peterson and the community he has gathered and fostered at The Rabbit Room/Hutchmoot. (Catch him on tour now in a must-see Christmas show.)

Our site for families, Story Warren, is chugging along nicely. I really love being a part of this project and, even more so, love the connection point this has been with wonderful partners and our heroic readers. In my tireless quest to drive up blog traffic by any means necessary, I wrote about how wise it can be to take breaks from blogs and social media here: The Virtue of Unread Blog Posts. Thus we are taking a breather during Advent/Christmas. We’ll see you again in January!

Speaking of Story Warren, we are seriously scheming about our second ever Story Warren Family Conference, Inkwell. Stuff’s happening. Excellent stuff. Hint: If you have plans for late in June, 2015. Cancel them.

Something our family loves is practicing Advent. I hope yours is a time of anticipation and reflection, a time to be together around the growing light to focus on the amazing tale of the Light of the world.

Book of the month? Behold the Lamb of God, by Russ Ramsey. Russ is a friend, and this book is a wonderful Advent read and excellent preparation for Christmas.

Health food of the month? Cake. God made grass that becomes sugar. Enjoy!

I’ve got a few speaking engagements lining up for early in the new year. If you want to talk about that kind of thing, I would be delighted to do so. I do not give health advice in these talks.

Please pray for us. We feel grateful, but stretched. I know many of you do too. We are asking God for clarity on when to say yes to exciting opportunities and when to say no and refocus at home & rest.

Okay, those of you who are still with me, thanks. Mom, thanks. I’ll try to be shorter and less boring next time. Also: more explosions.

[BLAM!] 

I’m on a G.K. Chesterton kick again lately, so I’ll leave you with this gem from him:

Happy hunting,

Sam

A favorite by a favorite. This is from Andrew Peterson’s Light for the Lost Boy, one of my favorite records.

I’m often tempted to be envious of friends who make music in community. The harmony on display is so attractive. I have friends in Nashville who have the kind of creative community people like me dream about. Also, singer/songwriters perform regularly and get instant feedback. They might hear clapping and see smiles the day after they write a song. It’s an endeavor so closely connected to community.

Making a book is a solitary act, by comparison. Countless hours spent on writing, rewriting, and rewriting, and rewriting. It’s an insane amount of alone time.

I always knew it would be this way. Making a book is a solitary act.

Except when it isn’t.

In my journey toward the publication of my first book, my eyes have been opened to just how much it involves others. I could never have done this on my own. If I tried, it would have been an awful experience.

One of those people who helped me tremendously was Helena Aman (Sorensen). She is an incredibly gifted writer, songwriter, singer, and on and on. She spent a lot of time editing my manuscript (and yelling at me in all caps to BE BRAVER). Recently, she and I were discussing the often disappointing world of publishing. And she said something that stuck with me. She said, in all the disappointments she has had, all she wants is to make art for, and with, people she loves.

Yes. That’s it.

In the old world of publishing, you begged and waited to be picked by a gatekeeper (publisher/agent) and you hoped they would care. There was no other way. With the flattened world of the internet, connections are available everywhere and finding your audience is now possible. Not easy, but possible. Connecting with those people you feel called to love and serve with your creative work is available if you have the passion to work at it and the luck/grace to be given lots of gifts along the way.

I have been given so much. The Rabbit Room community? My goodness, what a gift. Story Warren’s little tribe of families fostering imagination? An incredible gift. Facebook has connected me with old friends from my little high school in Huntington, WV, and the other high school I attended: Hoerskool Ferrum in Newcastle, South Africa. Amazing. Because of the era we live in, it really is possible to make art for, and with, people you love. Of course it always has been.

“You don’t have to change the world. All you gotta do is show up…” sings Jill Phillips.

You don’t have to change the whole world. You can just start with your “little” one. Little is the new big. You don’t have to be a NYT best-selling author to change your world. Your world might be three little kids, or a small school, or a rural community that church-planting books don’t talk about.

The internet does provide a vehicle for expanded connection that I’m grateful for. I’m afraid of what we sometimes trade when we look for intimacy on-line that’s designed for true incarnation. “Flesh and blood needs flesh and blood,” as Johnny Cash sang. But that’s not to say that the internet can’t be a launching point for incarnational endeavors, including art.

There will always be people who don’t care. You can tell by how quickly they become disinterested when you stop talking about their money, or their pleasure, or their pride. The texts/emails stop being returned. There’s a transactional nature to relationships that’s hard to avoid. We’re all guilty of using relationships for our own ends. It’s lousy but it’s true.

But what a pleasure it is to have the chance to connect with people you love, to serve and be served in some creative endeavor. I am astonished and grateful at the chance I’ve had through publishing my first book to be on the receiving end of all kinds of loving community. It’s something new to me. I feel like I was given the chance to make art for, and with, people I love. Is that really rare? It feels like it is. I feel spoiled. I feel special. I feel deeply loved.

I’m probably a little naive. But as little innocence as I feel like I have left in life to experience, I’m going to try to enjoy this.

And I’ll keep on working toward projects that allow me to do this again.

Because no matter what ever changes for me, more or less readers, more or less money, I think what I want most of all is what Helena said.

I want to make art for, and with, people I love.