Archives for 2010

I have a new blog.

It’s called Look In Your House. I invite you to check it out, subscribe, and tell your friends. Every new subscriber from now until January 31 will be entered to win a great Winter Survival Kit, full of my favorite Melaleuca products.

I’ve been wanting a more niche-focused blog for almost a year now. It’s just taken this long for me to figure out exactly what it would be. It’s not 100% perfect just yet, but I’m giving up perfection! I want it to be in full swing by January 1, so I’m just going with it. (Aren’t you proud of me?)

I’ll still be here writing from time to time, but the bulk of my efforts in the new year will be at Look In Your House.

See you over there! (Leave me a comment and let me know what you think.)

Photo credit: cohdra from morguefile.com

Last week as I was working on my MacBook, it froze. When I tried to reboot, the computer offered me a white screen. I couldn’t get it up past the white screen.

I didn’t panic because I knew the guys at the Genius Bar at the Apple store could help me.

And this is the primary reason that I psychotically love Mac products: those Geniuses at the Genius Bar.

Oh sure, I could tell you that I love the sleek, clean, and streamlined look and feel of my MacBook and my iPod Touch. And I do. Oh, I do. I could also tell you about my love for the intuitive navigation around Mac OS. I may also bring up the fact that I don’t worry about viruses. And, it’s true. All of these things endear me to the Mac camp.

But it’s access to unparalleled customer service that makes me so satisfied.

The Genius at the Bar last week helped me with my MacBook and its white screen. A few checks and he pronounced: “a failed hard drive.”* The computer was out of warranty, so  replacing the hard drive and restoring it to factory settings (now almost 4 years old), would cost about $230.

“But,” he said, “you could change out the hard drive yourself, and I’ll show you how.”

Would you believe, he totally walked me through everything I needed to do to order the hardware, install it, and order, upgrade, and install memory? All of that for $100! He said that once I had all of the new upgrades in place, I’d have the equivalent of the latest and greatest machine.

I was blown away at his forthright and candid help, his patient instruction, and his keeping my best interests at heart.

As I thanked him profusely, I declared loudly, “This is why I’m a Mac customer. And this is why I’ll always be a Mac customer.”

And you know what? I did it. I replaced (and upgraded) my MacBook’s hardware and memory—and saved $100-something doing it myself!

Thanks, Genius Bar.

*Post forthcoming on the importance of backing up data on a regular basis because hard drives will fail. Thankfully, we do back up on a regular basis.

I was not compensated by Apple in any manner for writing this post (I wish!). I simply adore this company and these products and think everyone should convert to Mac. And when I experience good customer service, I like to tell others about it.

I majored in broadcast journalism in college. I spent oodles of time working on my voice and fretting the fact that everyone thought I looked 12 on camera. But I had the good sense enough to chase after the thing that really mattered: becoming a better writer.

I didn’t land on the nightly news (which is a topic for another post entirely), but I do write every day. In fact, I’ve made some money writing over the years. I still have the very first “book” I wrote from the first grade. I have always been a writer and will always be a writer.

When I interned at WSMV Channel 4, I’d tag along with reporters on their news stories. More than anything, I wanted to mimic their good habits so that I, too, could become a better writer. On the way to a story, riding in the news car, I’d wait for a break in the conversation and ask, “What advice do you give for being a better writer?”

I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately. This past weekend, I attended a blow-your-socks-off conference on apologetics (I’ll post more about the conference later). Among the things that astounded me was the level of scholarship these speakers exuded. The men I heard were smart. Very smart. Extremely well-read and studied. Quite articulate, excellent story-tellers, compelling wordsmiths.

I was confronted with my steady diet of Spongebob, CNN news headlines, and Seinfeld re-runs. Really. Just soaking up the knowledge in these men’s brains and being asked to track with them was invigorating and convicting.

So what makes a good writer? I offer my suggestions (from a mix of that aspiring television journalist in the early 90s and a worn-out mother of three in the 21st century):

• Live. Writing must be authentic, born from life experiences. You gotta have something to say before you can say it.
• Learn. Read. Research. Open books. Immerse oneself in classic literature and in the great minds past and present.
• Listen. Train one’s ear to listen for beautiful language, great storytelling, weighty words with meaning, and foreign words needing more explanation.
• Expose oneself to other art forms to find inspiration. Great music, theatre, or film often jump start a creative notion inside. Hang out with creative people and tap into their muse, too.
• Don’t settle for life at the surface level. That’s easy. Life is offered to us on a paper plate every day. Go deeper. Ask for the good china and the steak and lobster. Spend some time mulling over the weightier matters of philosophy or theology. Everybody’s good at the surface-y stuff. Don’t be like everybody else.
• Write.

What makes you a better writer?

photo credit: tech no logic

I spend a lot of time online. I work online. I play online. I gather information online.

You do, too. I’m pretty sure if you’re reading this blog, then you’re also probably online a lot.

In case you’ve been under the proverbial Internet rock (or have just procrastinated way too much), I want to make sure you do two things before you again shut down your Internet connection.

Sign up for Groupon and Swagbucks.

Groupon offers a deal each day. If enough people buy in, then the deal is “on.” And these are incredible deals. All sorts of services, retailers, and restaurants offer Groupon deals. Chris and I have eaten a $40 dinner for $20 at Amerigo. We have another Groupon worth $25 for Bria Bistro that I got for just $2. Referring friends gets you Groupon credit, which can be applied to future Groupons. It’s just a brilliant set-up and rewards you for doing what you’re already doing anyway. The hardest part is not jumping in to every Groupon offered. I have to be quite deliberate about which ones I buy.

Swagbucks is a search engine. As you use the Swagbucks search engine to do the searches you’re already doing anyway, you accrue points. You can then redeem points for prizes. My favorite “prizes” are gift cards. You’ll find your favorite retail gift cards there: Amazon, Target, Starbucks, iTunes. My goal with Swagbucks is to use those gift cards for my “fun stuff”: books, coffee, Target therapy.

I know there are all sorts of great online deals vying for your attention and many are worthy of it, I’m sure. But if I could highlight the two most-basic “no-brainers,” it would be Groupon and Swagbucks.

What are you waiting for? Go. Go now and sign up.

“For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” —Matthew 11:30 (ESV)

I’ve spent much of this year feeling as if I was walking through molasses. I have a tendency to finagle (isn’t that a great word, by the way?) events to the best possible outcome, which causes me the least amount of energy, interruption, or discomfort. I can latch onto a great opportunity, idea, or endeavor and throw myself at it full force. I’m so good at working hard, capitalizing on a “good idea,” and employing every tried-and-true strategy.

There’s just one problem with my working so hard in my own strength.

It’s not the way God wants me to work.

And so, when I do, it’s hard. So hard. So tiring, so long, so complicated. My best efforts are met with resistance. My best attempts are fraught with failure. My energy depleted, I ask God over and over and over to bless “the plan.” And I work harder. And a little bit harder.

Earlier this year—when I was working four part-time jobs and so exhausted—a good friend pointed out to me the obvious fatigue my efforts were yielding. She reminded me that God says his yoke is easy and his burden is light.

I often think about this verse in terms of having some grave worry that’s bringing me down and that if I just “give it to God,” I’ll have the burden lifted. Of course, that relates. But the application from my friend is appropriate, too.

When I’m doing what God has called me to do, created me to do, and prepared me to do, it’s easy. Just the opposite of dragging myself through molasses.

I don’t mean that there are not times in life when God calls us to walk through dark places or tough situations in order to teach and refine us. I’m talking about the times when we take charge and try to forge ahead in our own strength for selfish motives and within our own wisdom.

But when we rely on Christ alone for wisdom, strength, and direction, even daily cross-bearing is easy and light. In a real sense, it feels good.
photo credit: technicool

photo credit: busbeytheelder

I noticed bags of cranberries in the produce department at the grocery store last week.

It’s not even Halloween, and already holiday meals are anticipated. Most people may not even notice the bags of fresh cranberries in the store. Most people, after all, get their cranberry sauce or jelly from an Ocean Spray can.

That’s how I knew cranberry sauce growing up: a red blob with the tin can shape intact. It didn’t look appealing, nor did it taste all that good. I vaguely remember it being a very tart goo. After trying it early on, I never did again. Why ruin an otherwise savory meal of turkey and dressing?

And then I began cooking my own holiday meals. Inevitably, somebody wanted “something cranberry” to go with the turkey. A few times, I’d purchase the obligatory cans. I never even thought homemade cranberry sauce was a feasible option. I thought it must be too difficult or too messy or something.

But one day—probably inspired by a cooking show—I decided to turn over the back of a bag of fresh cranberries. There was the recipe: sugar, water, cranberries, heat. It was so easy, so simple. And it produced something so fresh, so tasty.

I couldn’t believe I had been duped all these years by tin cans of red goo. (Mom, really, why didn’t you just make your own cranberry sauce?)

Earlier this week during a Bible study class, my friend and pastor talked about the fact that we are “resurrection people.” We possess the same power that raised Jesus from the dead. Our dead bodies will be resurrected at the last day. We are new.

What does it mean to live as a resurrection people? I wondered.

As I tossed this question around in my mind, I came back to the cranberry sauce. The dichotomy between what I knew to be—and had settled for—as cranberry sauce and what cranberry sauce can really be.

The surprise in all of this to me was that homemade cranberry sauce is really, really good, yet I had never known it to be.

The canned sauce is merely a shadow—almost an imitation—of the real thing. It’s like boxed mac ‘n cheese or instant iced tea. The shadow retains some of the trappings and characteristics of the authentic, but is ultimately a hollow representation.

The cranberry sauce in a can? It’s a shadow of the feast that is to come. Homemade cranberry sauce? It’s nowhere near the banquet that awaits, but it’s a good reminder that canned cranberry sauce pales in comparison to the “real thing.”

Life in this world is full of shadows of that which is to come. To live as a “people of the resurrection,” we must not become too cozy here in the shadows. We mustn’t look to the things of this world to satisfy only that which Christ can. We must allow the shadows to prepare our hearts and offer anticipation for that which is to come.

And while I don’t think it’s necessarily a requirement, I heartily recommend eating homemade cranberry sauce every chance you get.

I’m up to something over here at The Writer’s Block. Stay tuned.

I’ve moved my blog from Blogger to self-hosted WordPress, and I’m having a few glitches as I get the blog settled here.

Anyway—welcome. I’m excited about new directions for my blog.