Casting a Vision

There is something powerful about spoken words. But I think there’s something extra powerful about written ones. There is a permanence about them, a visibility that we can’t forget or dismiss or shoo away as a passing whim.

Written words have a physicality. There they are on a page we can feel or a computer screen we can touch. Captured not just for our own eyes, but for other’s as well.

So today, with that power in mind, I’m encouraging anyone with a goal, anyone with a dream, to write it down. To type it out. To make it physical and permanent.

This is something I did a year and a half ago. And I think it’s one of the most helpful things I’ve done for my writing career.

I wrote something called a vision statement.

Let me just tell you, I love, love, love vision statements. They are fearless. They are honest. They don’t contain doubt. Or what-ifs. Or settling for less. They are filled with possibility and hope and anticipation.

But before you can pick up a pen and write something so glorious, it would probably be helpful to know what one is.

Simply put, a vision statement is a picture of yourself in the future. It’s what you aspire to be, deep down in your heart. In that place you keep hidden, because maybe your dreams are big. And maybe the odds are against you.

Creating one involves casting a vision for yourself. It means fast-forwarding ten or twenty years into the future. Giving serious thought to what you hope to be. What you hope to accomplish. Then capturing that vision in the shape of a bio.

So instead of: Katie Ganshert is a debut novelist…..

Mine starts: Katie Ganshert is a multi-published, full-time author….

The first is true right now. The second is my vision. What I hope to someday accomplish.

I think it’s important to write it in present-tense, as if that vision were truth. And it’s important to have it down on paper or saved in the computer as your stake-in-the-ground. These are your dreams. Your wishes. Your hopes. This is what you’re striving toward.

So be honest. Be confident. And write it down. Make it permanent and physical.

I wrote mine in a journal on April 11, 2010. And all the doubt and rejection and fear and waiting I’ve passed through since that day has led me back to my vision statement. A vision statement that keeps me focused. On course. Striving onward.

Let’s Talk: What is something that would be or already is in your vision statement? Let’s get real. Let’s dream big. Where do you hope you’ll be in ten, twenty years?

I know that’s a pretty personal question. So it’s only fair if I open up first.

One of the lines in my vision statement says this:
Her novels are known for their tension-filled pages, evocative prose, and hope-filled endings.

This doesn’t mean I’m there yet. It doesn’t mean I’m currently writing stories that capture this vision. But it does give me something to reach for.removetweetmeme

Come Inside, Have a Look

If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like transitioning from a writer without a contract to a writer with one, then come on in. I invite you to take a peek inside my head. It’s not as scary as this freeze-frame makes it look. I promise.

Thanks for the question Sherri! I assure you, your question was not off the wall. At least not to me.

If you have a question you’d like me to answer, please send it my way (either in the comments or via email). I’m having so much fun answering them! If you missed my previous vlogs, you can check them out on my youtube channel.

Let’s Talk: Where’s your head at right now? What’s going on in your life? What are you working on? What transitions have you gone through?removetweetmeme

Giving it All

There’s this scene in the Bible where thousands of people are gathered to hear Jesus teach. Only it’s getting late. People are hungry. And the only food around is in the possession of a young boy. He has five loaves of bread and two fish. Nowhere near enough to feed the crowd.

When I read this story, I can’t help but wonder….

Did that boy worry over the smallness of his offering? Did he think about breaking the loaves into teeny-tiny pieces? Was he tempted to keep the food to himself?

Any of these would be normal reactions. Human reactions. Because the task before him was 100% impossible.  

Until he gave the food to Jesus. And somehow, those five loaves and those two fish fed five thousand. 
How silly would it have been if the boy had taken credit? He didn’t feed those people. He didn’t perform the miracle. He didn’t multiply the food.

But he did give his all.

Dan Walsh, author of The Unfinished Gift, talked about this story in one of the workshops I attended at the ACFW conference last weekend.

And it hit me with so much power. So much truth.

There are people who try to break up the bread and do impossible things on their own.

There are people who don’t even try, because they see the impossibility before them.

And there are people like that boy. A kid who gave everything, knowing it was nowhere near enough. But he gave it anyway and trusted Jesus with the rest.

Man.

I want to be like that kid. I want to put forth my best effort. I want to give God my all. But at the end of the day, I want to remember that my all will never be enough. So if or when God chooses to multiply the work of my hands, I won’t ever question who deserves the credit.

Let’s Talk: Are you more tempted to try to do it all on your own, or are you more tempted to not try at all?  

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