Clearing Away
Of all the things I’m learning to leave behind, one of the
heaviest is the opinion of others.
One of the peculiarities of being a writer is that your
work is judged and measured publicly all the time. This
many stars. This many books sold. Reviews and criticisms,
detailed speaker evaluations. There is no shortage of
opinions.
Writing is such good training for the rest of life, if you
allow it to be, because it forces you to get comfortable with
failure, with the wide range of impossible-to-meet
expectations and standards. I hear all the time that I’m both
too conservative and too liberal, too shallow and too deep,
too casual and too formal.
When our closest friends gather around our table, we do
not all agree about theology. Or politics. Or education. Or
almost anything at all, and that’s just as it should be.
Friendship isn’t forged out of sameness, and anyone who
has in-laws knows that family isn’t either.
If our dinner tables represent great diversity of thought
and opinion, imagine how much more diverse our churches
and neighborhoods are, let alone the wild west of the
Internet.