Juggling Life

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The definition of juggling reads "to keep several objects in continuous motion; to hold, catch carry, or balance precariously; almost drop and then hold on again".

Many days in my life feel just like that definition--a precarious balancing act trying to keep the spheres of home, work, and ministry all in the air, spinning continuously. I have a feeling you're like that too.

One day this week I felt pretty spectacular about everything I'd accomplished. Until I heard about a man who just completed a triathlon. In under two hours. Juggling.

He juggled while swimming on his back for a quarter mile, biking 16.2 miles (he juggled one handed!), and running four miles. I'm sure I could do that. Well, maybe not the juggling part. Or the triathlon part either.

As a teacher, mother, farmer's wife, and volunteer youth sponsor, summer brings the end of lots of things that keep me juggling: school, sports practices and games, piano lessons, planting season, weekly youth meetings. It also brings a new kind of busy: professional development,  play dates, sleepovers, bonfires, art classes, cooking classes, camping trips, camp, youth trips, re-planting and fieldwork, graduations, and weddings.

I'm hoping in the midst of all this summer busyness that I'll find some quiet moments to read and to write. But I know it won't happen unless I'm intentional about scheduling it in or looking for opportunities. I think I will set a reading goal and a writing goal for myself.

So, I'm curious about you? Do you have a summer reading goal or a writing goal? What do you do to keep yourself motivated to write when the long days and the great outdoors call to you? What books will you be reading by the pool or at the lake?

And while we're talking goals, anyone competing in a triathlon this summer or learning to juggle?

Nikki Studebaker Barcus

What I've Learned As A Writing Contest Judge

Sometimes it’s hard to fathom that I was sought out this year to be a judge in a writing contest. It was a case where I received a personal invitation by e-mail (as opposed to when I volunteered in the past). I was flattered and accepted with deep gratitude. The way I look at it, judging a contest is an honor and privilege. In some ways, I don’t like the term “judge” and it’s not something I take lightly. While we were told we only needed to make one or two sentence comments in each of the categories, I took my time and wrote what needed to be said, trying to balance the good with the perhaps not-so-good. I’ve been on both sides of the contest circuit now, and I know the blessings and the pitfalls. You may have personally experienced what I did the one year I entered the same story in three contests: it finaled in one contest, in another, it earned 100% from one judge, a middling score and a third lukewarm score. In another contest, it didn’t make it to the second round of judging because one judge scored it very low with comments such as, “I needed to know more about what the conference room looked like.” That one made me rant a bit since the conference room description really had nothing whatsoever to do with moving the story forward. So, I’ve been on the receiving end and know what it’s like to receive scores and can certainly empathize. On the flip side are reviews when you’re a published writer, sometimes from not-so-understanding or sympathetic “judges."

Below are my overall impressions as a writing contest judge:

1      The level of talent is outstanding. I was encouraged and uplifted by the level of talent. With some of the entries, the spiritual influence or emphasis was quite pronounced, and in others, it was not in evidence at all. But that’s indicative of the widespread spectrum of Christian fiction these days—something for everyone, and that’s a very good thing. Just as we’re all at different points in our own spiritual walk, so are our readers.

2      The difference is in the mechanics as well as the details. Out of the six entries I judged, about half were near publication level. With a little polishing, others were close. As is usually the case, there was one entry that stood out among the rest. Here are some of the primary things that made this one so good:

A.    The first sentence hooked me. I heard Liz Curtis Higgs speak once and she said if the first sentence (or paragraph at most) doesn’t hook her, she moves on.

B.     The story flowed with no awkward sentences.

C.    No typos or grammatical errors. Proof, edit, proof, edit. Then do it again.

D.    The use of strong, active verbs and varying sentence structure.

E.     Descriptive, almost lyrical passages. This can be difficult for some authors (me included), but work on it and read it out loud (one of the best suggestions I ever heard and I employ this one all the time).

F.     Good use of alternating dialog and narrative. Keeps it from being boring, and imparts just enough backstory to fill in the holes or blanks.

G.    I identified with the main character and felt her anxiety of what was about to happen in her world. If the reader can’t identify, he or she won’t care and you’ll possibly lose them.

H.    Well-drawn secondary characters. Don’t treat them like second best. Make them interesting but not to the point of overshadowing your main characters. If you’re writing a series (like me), these secondary characters will take a turn in the spotlight and given their time to shine.

I.       A touch of humor interspersed with the drama. Making the reader smile is always a good thing and lightens the tension and the drama.

3      Every story has value. The writer has spent a lot of time and effort, prayers and maybe even a few tears, on his or her story. It’s the product of their imagination, the Lord’s guidance and perhaps input from critique partners. It’s my responsibility as someone evaluating the story to make comments and try to see what the author was trying to accomplish. What is the purpose? What is the spiritual takeaway from it?

As a published writer, I personally do not enter contests. Why? (1) My books don’t follow the tried-and-true formula for contemporary romance; (2) Contests take up precious time I’d rather devote to actual writing; (3) Contests cost quite a bit of money in terms of donated books and entry fees; and (4) I’m more focused on writing to plant seeds and maybe win souls, not awards. Sure, if I’d enter and actually win something, I’d be thrilled, but—at this point in my career, it’s not my goal. I’ve seen authors with pages upon pages on their websites of awards earned, and deservedly so, but I have to wonder at what cost? I work a full-time job and simply don’t have enough writing time. What time I do have is spent indulging in that passion. The reward is receiving an e-mail or message from a reader telling me how much one of my characters, or one of my books has touched, impacted or even changed her life in some way. That’s heady stuff, but it’s not praise for me, it’s a gift. The Lord is the only "judge" I need, and I want to always write stories that make people think and impart a message of His hope and overwhelming love. I give all the “credit” to the Lord from whom all good and perfect things come indeed.

Blessings, my friends. Matthew 5:16

שׁוּב, to return, to restore

Returning is life changing. In Ruth, Loved Redefined, author Paul Miller points out that the biblical author of Ruth uses the word shuwb, translated return, turn back, go back, and brought back twelve times in his opening scenes. (Its uses are easy to spot via blueletterbible.org.)

When judges ruled Israel a Hebrew man and woman and their two sons left Bethlehem to go to Moab. The two sons married Moabite women. Tragedy struck: all three men died, leaving all three women widows.

Naomi, the mother-in-law, hears that the LORD has visited His people by giving them bread and decides to return home. Her two Moabite daughters-in-law begin the return with her. Along the way Naomi urges them to go back to their mother’s houses. Ruth and Orpah refuse, determined to return with Naomi to her people. Naomi entreats them twice more to go back to find husbands. Orpah does turn back to her people and her gods and Naomi urges Ruth to follow her. Instead, Ruth vows to bind herself to Naomi. When they arrive in Bethlehem, and the village women wonder at the sight of her, Naomi declares that she had gone out full and the LORD had brought her back empty. She no longer wants to be called “Pleasant” but “Bitter.” The scene closes with a double underscore of Naomi and Ruth’s return together. They had arrived, just as the barley was ready for harvest.

After Ruth has married Boaz, an honorable man of Bethlehem, and they have borne a son, the village women announce to Naomi that this child would be the restorer of her life. The Hebrew word for “life” is nephesh, also meaning “soul.” The word for “restorer” is again shuwb. Obed would return Naomi’s life. He would turn her life back to God. He would restore her soul.

The language reverberates decades later. Obed’s grandson David writes that the LORD, his shepherd, “restores my soul,” good reason to “return to house of the LORD forever” (Psalm 23:3,6).

Returning change writers’ lives, too. We might do well to question ourselves today.

Do I need to return?

What has captured my attention and trust? Projects, contracts, sales, connections, talent? Blogs even?

Is it worthy to be trusted?

If I turned from it, what would I return to?

Is returning appropriate for me now?

Turning back may prove painful as emptying. The women of Bethlehem marveled at the negative change in Naomi. But as Naomi remained in Bethlehem, the “house of bread,” her soul was restored. The nearness of God was her good. And His nearness is the writer’s good, too.