Story Unfolding, Part One

I have a weakness for ideas.

Nothing jazzes me more than a good philosophical discussion, one where the parties need to define terms and stretch their minds and take tried-and-true beliefs and dissect them to keep them fresh and authentic.

It’s the reason why 90% of the books I read are nonfiction, why I listen to podcasts that challenge me intellectually, why I read blogs that probe the profound.

So it was natural for me to tune in to the discussion on Story Unfolding last week. Picture a round-table conversation between some of the most thoughtful Christian artists of our day (Margaret Becker, Anne Jackson, Natalie Grant, Shaun Groves, Pete Wilson and more), and you’ll get a feel for what went on.

As you might expect, this group didn’t stay in the shallow end. They dove right into the deep. What does it mean to be a story-teller today? How was the church not done a good job of empowering the story-tellers? What does relevant mean? How are you refining your story-telling skills?

Heady concepts. It was fascinating to listen to the exchange of ideas and opinions. They weren’t dealing with details. They were dreaming big, trying to see outside of the frame.

And honestly, it left me feeling a little marginalized.

In my pre-kid life, I used to swim in a creative environment, where ideas were exchanged and discussed and sometimes even battled. I also used to dream big. It’s the reason I was producing a newscast for NBC when I was 26. I wanted to have influence. To be excellent. To be relevant. To have a voice – preferably, a powerful one – that was heard in our decibel-breaking culture.

But these days? The exchange of ideas looks more like, “I don’t care that you want to eat marshmallows for breakfast. It’s Cheerios or eggs and that’s final.” And dreaming big might mean that I hope to get an hour by myself in the afternoon to write or read or think without interruption.

It can be discouraging. Being a stay-at-home mom to three young kids leaves me little time to do anything outside of change diapers, make meals and plan activities to keep these little bodies active and engaged.

Watching the discussion on Story Unfolding made me feel like I have no voice, no impact, no story to tell. (Unless you want to talk about babies who eat Polly Pocket shoes.)

(To be continued tomorrow ... or maybe later today, if that hour to myself materializes.)

(Continued ... umm ... two days later. You can read part two here.)