So here’s what I think: The best thing you can do right now is to finish what you started last year and not let those good intentions grow stale. Your heart’s been in the right place all along. You’ve got what it takes to finish it up, so go to it. Once the commitment is clear, you do what you can, not what you can’t.
~2 Corinthians 8:10-12 (The Message)
Dear Mead Five Star Notebook,
It’s me, your best friend! It’s early morning and I’m sitting at my desk, eyes drawn to the splashing purple sunrise outside my writing room window. And I’m thinking about…you.
I do this every August, reminisce about that time of year when school supply lists resulted in a trip down my favorite-est Wal-Mart aisle. And you, my dear friend, were always the highlight.
Yes, while others were drawn to glossy folders with photos of puppies and kittens and the Justin Biebers of our day (that’d be N*SYNC and Ricky Martin), while they insisted on Lisa Frank pencil bags and neon-colored eraser tops, I always sought you out first.
Oh sure, I might have had a one-year fling with a zippered trapper keeper. Might’ve gone a little gaga over mechanical pencils. Possibly even gave in to the high-tech wonder that is the solar calculator. (Didn’t last long, though. You know me and numbers. Sorry Sandy and Danny, we don’t go together.)
But you, oh Mead Five Star Notebook? We’re a match made in a dreamer’s heaven. For. Real. My love for your blank pages? Endless. Before the word MacBook ever entered my vocabulary, your college-ruled blue lines and folder-divided five subjects were the pillows on which I laid my story-filled head. Teachers might mean for us to take notes in class—but who needed all five subjects for that? Oh yes, one glance at you in the school supply aisle and plans to fill your latter subjects with Nancy Drew and Boxcar Children copycats flourished.
Then again, that’s a sticky subject between us, isn’t it? My stories, I mean. I never quite finished them, did I? The back pages in each section always felt a little neglected, a little…blank.
What you don’t understand, Mead notebook, is this is a common malady for me…and possibly many writers. And dreamers. And on-and-off Type-B personalities. And believe me, you are not alone: this battle with follow-through extends further than my writing life.
Big ideas, fancy dreams, adventurous goals—stories I’ll tell, people I’ll invest in, causes I’ll throw myself into—hopefully all God-inspired…they spill and spread in my mind and awake all sorts of excitement and energy. But those double-e’s don’t always last. Excitement lapses and energy fades and I’m left with half-started projects.
Half-told stories.
Half-developed friendships.
But you, Mead notebook, and God have something in common, I think, and that is this: you call me to more. Just like Paul, encouraging the Corinthians to follow through on what they started…
Now finish the work, so that your eager willingness to do it may be matched by your completion of it. ~2 Cor. 9:11 (NIV)
I like being a dreamer, you know. I like stories and ideas and turning imagination into creation. I even feel, pretty strongly, these are characteristics passed down from the ultimate Creator.
But that Creator finishes every story. Completes every project. Fully follows through in every relationship.
His willingness is matched by completion.
And that is a truth I love. Even in my sometimes-failure to follow through, He is faithful. And when I look to Him, when I count on Him for energy—not just a dream or desire or momentary passion—that’s when I find the determination, the staying power, the grit to finish the big things.
So, thanks, Mead notebook, for the memories. And the inspiration.
Sincerely, Melissa
p.s. Yes, I do love my MacBook, too. Please don’t be jealous.
Yes, while others were drawn to glossy folders with photos of puppies and kittens and the Justin Biebers of our day (that’d be N*SYNC and Ricky Martin), while they insisted on Lisa Frank pencil bags and neon-colored eraser tops, I always sought you out first.
Comments 3
Melissa, such a profound truth wrapped up in your trademark Melissa-style.
Oh, the dreams wrapped up in you. The ones you have completed–look over your shoulder and you’ll see–and the ones waiting up ahead. So excited to be your friend now and get to watch!
Love the letter and can relate on every level, although InSync was not in my day. More like, New Kids on the Block. 🙂
Thanks, Beth! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I’m blessed to know you!
Jessica – I have Step by Step in my head now! 🙂