STORY: Imagine Nation
Those of you who’ve been around for a year (or more) know that I’m a huge fan of of Ben Arment and the STORY conference.
I had the amazing opportunity to be at last year’s event, and I got so much rich goodness from it. Unfortunately I can’t be there this year, but I would love to see you go.
That way I can live vicariously through you.
And get copies of all your notes.
Thankyouinadvance.
STORY is a conference for creatives, fueling the Church’s artists, writers, and producers to communicate the Gospel message in the most compelling way.
I absolutely love the theme for this year: IMAGINE NATION.
In Exodus 36, the artists of Israel came together to build a dwelling place for the presence of God. The job of these artists was to envision God and His throne room, and use their gifts to create a masterpiece that would heighten people’s spiritual imaginations.
An Imagine Nation.
Such powerful imagery for what we are called to do as His people.
The STORY conference is going to be in Chicago on September 15 – 16th.
If you’re a writer, filmmaker, artist, performer, entrepreneur, communicator, or any other type of creative, you need to be there.
Join a tribe of creative artists to learn more about your craft, story-telling, and imagination.
I want to introduce you to one of the story-tellers at STORY this year: Naima Lett.
Naima is an actor, producer, writer, and minister who has appeared in several major motion pictures. She is on a mission to inspire, equip, and propel fellow artists to find their purpose and follow their dreams without losing their faith.
We asked Naima a few questions to give us a sneak peek into her heart and her imagination…
: : :
What is your best personal definition of a STORY?
I love Robert McKee’s definition of story: “Good story means something worth telling that the world wants to hear.” I just finished my first book, and this quote is ever before me.
What is one way you have found to grow or engage your imagination?
I journal daily. I write. I dream. When I have the time, to give my imagination a boost, I go meditate at the beach. The magnificence of God’s creation frees me to be creative.
In your experience what is the best nontraditional form of STORY-telling you have seen, heard, or experienced?
Nontraditional? Hmmm… Alvin Ailey’s Revelations is pretty incredible, in terms of ‘nontraditional’ storytelling. When I first experienced Revelations as a child, I was transformed by story through movement. Even now, when I see it, I want to leap and run. My soul dances. I’m literally dancing in my seat (my apologies to the patrons seated next to me).
If you could encourage a creative person with one tip on being imaginative, what would you tell them?
Let go of people-pleasing and give yourself permission to be free.
What is one thing you are excited about sharing with the tribe attending STORY 2011?
As an artist, embrace the courage to change your initial question from “What can you do for me?” to “What can I do for you?”, and see how your STORY and life transforms.
: : :
Seriously, friends. If you can be there… GO!
I assure you, you won’t be disappointed.
I’d also love to hear your response to one of the questions we asked Naima…
What is one way you have found to grow or engage your imagination?
hi
Tell me something…
Anything…
grace runs
“Avoid the appearance of evil.”
We’ve all heard it said before.
And while it comes from the Bible, I think we may have warped its original intended meaning. More often than not, I’ve seen it used as a weapon of divisiveness and judgment and condemnation…
Read the rest of my post over at
Deeper Story
my now and my not yet
Lately, I just keep thinking about the phrase “the now and the not yet”.
For some reason, I thought it was in the Bible. But despite all my Googling and Bible-Gateway-ing, I came up empty-handed. Apparently it’s not directly in Scripture.
Waddayaknow!
That’s okay. It’s still renting a room in my head for a reason…
The now and the not yet.
I’ve been in a long season of transition.
Change.
Limbo.
Still trying to figure out what’s next and — now more than ever — learning to trust in the in-between.
Because I can’t really trust God with and for whatever’s next if I’m not trusting Him now—in my raw, unpolished, uncertain in-between.
I fool myself into believing I can trust Him with my tomorrow, but not my today. My eternity, but not my present. My not yet, but not my now.
But I can’t.
Trusting the God who was and is and is to come, means trusting that He fully holds who I was and am and will be.
Past, present, and future are in His hands. And I can’t trust Him with one and not another.
If I am His, I must be wholly His.
If I trust Him, I must wholly trust Him.
I need to learn to trust God in my now, in order to fully trust Him with my not yet.
Because trusting God means trusting His timing.
Even when I don’t understand it. Maybe especially when I don’t understand it.
So once again, I find myself praying…
Lord, I believe. Help me overcome my unbelief.
And the real, honest cry of my heart:
Lord, I trust. Help me overcome my distrust.
besides Jesus…
…Who could you say this to?
Why?
circle YES or NO
I hated dodgeball when I was a kid.
Not so much because of the actual game. (Although I wasn’t too fond of the painful sting that followed being pelted with that stupid rubber ball.)
I hated it because of the pre-game team selection process.
Two team captains, handpicking teammates in order of the coolest to the… not coolest.
Seriously… So awful.
I’m sweating and cringing just thinking about it.
The Facebook lingo of “like-ing” pages rushes me back to elementary school gym class and those dreaded dodgeball games. And that awful wait and wondering, hoping I get picked sooner rather than later.
::Shudder::
Okay, let’s try not to think about that.
And instead, picture me passing you a handwritten note that says:
Do you like me? Circle YES or NO.
A slightly less painful piece of our wonder years…
So while we’re tripping down memory lane, if you’re the Facebook like-ing type, feel free to like the Grit and Glory community page.
We can be one big, happy, non-dodgeball-playing family.
And your homework? (We’ve transported back to elementary school—Of course there’s homework!)
Leave a comment with a link to your facebook profile or page so we can all like you back.
And tell us one wonderful or horrible grade school memory.
Go.
i’m sorry
When my husband confessed to his affair, my world began crumbling out from under my feet.
Actually, the crumbling started almost two years before, when the infidelity and incessant lying began. With each piece that shattered, I withdrew into myself a little bit more.
When all this started, and all I had was a gut feeling and doubts and stories that didn’t seem to line up, we were the leaders of a non-profit organization. I didn’t know how to deal with what I feared might be going on, and I certainly didn’t know who I could talk to.
So this quiet girl grew even quieter.
Then doubts gave way to undeniable proof…
And then the bombshell was dropped that he was done. With me. With ministry. With all of it.
And he walked away.
And while it didn’t seem like it was even possible, I withdrew even more.
In the past few years, I have fought through divorce, depression, chronic health issues, the closing of our ministry, the loss of my home, the seeming loss of me… And while I am ashamed to admit it, I haven’t had the energy, strength, time, or resolve to pour into my friendships. Not like I used to. Not like I’d want to.
I simply haven’t had it in me. Leaning into people seems to demand more of me than I’ve had left.
So emails and Facebook messages have gone unanswered. Calls have been unreturned.
In a lot of ways, I fell off the face of the earth when it fell out from under me.
And in the process of that, I know I’ve hurt some people. Some people I care deeply about. People who mean very much to me. People who infused me with strength through their emails and texts and voicemails, even if I didn’t know how to reach out and respond.
My lack of communication has communicated that I don’t care, and that’s the farthest thing from the truth.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry for any way I may have disregarded, dismissed, or ignored your gestures of love and friendship.
I’m sorry for not speaking up, even if it were only to say that I have no words.
Please forgive me.
Anything YOU want to get off your chest?
other than fear
Fill in the blank:
Love > ________
any, all, or something else altogether
I recently got back some of my shoes and clothes that I haven’t worn since I livd in Africa.
Most of which I’ve had for a very long time.
Some of which moved to Africa with me.
In 1998.
The pragmatic sentimentalist in me has held onto things longer than I probably should have. Beyond them going out of style or wearing thin or not fitting anymore.
But, somewhat begrudgingly, I weeded through my things and pared down.
It’s a good thing.
It is.
And for the things I’ve chosen to keep, I just run the “Does this make me look like a missionary” test first.
So far everything’s passed the test.
Even my jean skirt.
Phew.
I did toss my Tevas though.
It was time.
And a matter of public service.
You’re welcome.
Feel free to answer any, all, or something else altogether:
Are you sentimental?
What’s your favorite piece of clothing?
Do you need to do some spring cleaning? (Even though it’s summer…)
What’s the hardest things for you to get rid of? Why?
Is there something you wish a loved one would finally part with?
Is it time to clean out your fridge? o_O
Have a question for ME?
