Thought this would be a good post to follow the last one . . .I read this today in Donald Miller's new book, "A Million Miles in a Thousand Years" (chapter 26)
It's like this when you live a story: The first part happens fast. You throw yourself into the narrative, and you're finally out in the water; the shore is pushing off behind you and the trees are getting smaller. The distant shore doesn't seem so far, and you can feel the resolution coming, the feeling of getting out of your boat and walking the distant beach . . .But the truth is, it isn't going to be over soon . . .The reward you get from a story is always less than you thought it would be, and the work is harder than you imagined. The point of a story is never about the ending, remember. It's about your character getting molded in the hard work of the middle. At some point the shore behind you stops getting smaller, and you paddle and wonder why the same strokes that used to move you now only rock the boat . . .The shore you left is just as distant, and there is no going back; there is only the decison to paddle in place or stop . . .You paddle until you no longer believe you can go any farther. and then suddenly, well after you thought it would happen, the other shore starts to grow, and it grows fast. The trees get taller and you can make out the crags in the cliffs, and then the shore reaches out to you, to welcome you home, almost pulling your boat onto the sand."
I think as a ministry, and me personally to some extent, are in the "hard work of the middle" of our story. But we have come way too far to stop paddling. I'm not sure I believe that the other shore will start to grow fast, but I do believe it will start to grow. So, we will keep paddling! I'm just so thankful there are so many people in the boat paddling with me!
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