In Texas, the University Interscholastic League sponsored contests between schools covering a wide range of academic topics. In Junior High, I tied for 6th in a U.I.L. spelling contest. Unfortunately, the powers that be at that particular contest failed to notify me of the tie. I missed the ensuing spell-off, only to later find my test with “7th Place – Didn’t show up to tiebreaker” scrawled across the page. My little, proud, Junior High mind was crushed, not only at the fact that I wasn’t first place, but that I also didn’t even get the chance to compete to sustain my 6th place position.

So, years later, after stuffing my feelings by devouring as many words as I could, I attempted the journalistic competitions set forth by the U.I.L. It’s been far too many years since then, but I recall participating in Feature Writing and Headlines. I did so poorly in both of them that I can’t even recall my place in either competition. This may have been the beginning of a subtle aversion to the pursuit of writing as a legitimate means of self-sustainment.

Now, even more years later, writing (thankfully) is a part of my job. Learning to craft concise, creative, compelling copy (while attempting to avoid the adolescent allure of alliteration) is an art form I enjoy attempting to master. It’s a journey without a final destination, but if I can inch ever closer with each new day, each new writer I read, and each new voice that speaks wisdom into my life (and there are many of those at my current job and in my real-life circles), then I’ll consider it a day well-spent.

But headlines still cause me a tightening of the throat, a muddling of the mind, and a blankness of the brain. Consequently, I’m highly appreciative of posts like Matt Thompson’s 10 Questions to Help You Write Better Headlines.

While headlines have to convey much more information in a smaller amount of space versus your standard tweet or Facebook update, there are similarities to be found. The pressure of limited space leaves little room for error or vagueness, but carefully crafted content calls out for a memorable, clickable headline. As with your updates, so too with headlines. You want something that tells the truth, but begs for interaction.

Maybe the essence of any headline is this: How do you compress your meaning so that it’s an irrepressible invitation to interact?

So . . .

• What inter-scholastic competitions did you compete in, and where did you place?
• Or, what’s the best or worst headlines you’ve ever read?
• Or, when you compose a tweet or Facebook update, do you linger over exactly what you want to say and how you want to say it so that someone will reply, click, or like the post?

But first, I heartily encourage you to do one or all of the following:

• like the FaithVillage Facebook page
• follow @faithvillage and @FVmomentum (me) and @FVstrive and @FVculturelab on Twitter
• or subscribe to FaithVillage’s RSS feed.

That way, you can get these articles when they go live, instead of a few weeks or months down the line.

Also, use the right sidebar at FaithVillage.com to sign up as a Charter Member. Go do it now. I’ll wait.

…………. waiting ………………. waiting ……………….. still waiting …………………..

Done? Good. Now you’ll receive our e-newsletter, but you’ll also be invited to partake in our beta launch, meaning that you’ll get the opportunity to try out our site before anyone else. And let me tell you, the latest updates I saw just today are visually amazing. You’ll want to test our site out when it launches, so if you failed to heed my instructions from earlier, get to it now.

You should also know that we do a GiveAway every week, like this one. And sometimes we have featured GiveAways made possible by generous contributors, like this one. So you should definitely check our site on a regular basis, leave a comment, throw us a like on Facebook, and RT our links to all your friends! OK. Enough of the salespitch. Sometimes I can get carried away . . .

As for my favorite articles over the last few months, here they are:

1. [CONCERT REVIEW]: MUTEMATH at Common Grounds in Waco, TX
2. Why Are Young Christians Leaving the Church? An Interview with David Kinnaman
3. [BOOK REVIEW]: Radical Together, by David Platt
4. Six Steps to Establishing Your Church’s Online Identity
5. 10 Top Mobile Apps for Church Leaders

Adapted CC Image • Freidwall on Flickr

I don’t think the Apostle Paul was talking about writing when he said “For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.” However, like a lot of things in the Bible, his words could be applied to a wide variety of circumstances.

More often than not, when I sit with a blank look in front of a white screen that stares just as blankly back at me, I’m able to think of a thousand different things I could be doing.

For instance, prior to writing this post, I argued with myself that I couldn’t write it because I don’t have the right keyboard. I want a sleek, aluminum Apple wireless keyboard because it’s what I use at work, I type quickly on it, and I miss Steve Jobs. I entertained this idea for so long that I almost went to the store and bought one. Upon my return, I’d surely get back to writing this post.

Surely.

Did I go to the Apple Store? Of course not, because this post exists. What stopped me from doing so? This video, which is well worth your time. Watch it now before proceeding any further:

I may start watching this video on a weekly basis. It’s the jolt from mental slumber I need on a regular rotation. I need to be reminded that the civil war in my head between the voice that says “WRITE” and the voice that says a million other things is a battle that can’t be won without tactical action.

I share the video with you because I’m willing to bet I’m not alone. Maybe your thing isn’t writing. Maybe it’s cooking, or starting a band, or working toward a significant career change. Whatever that thing is that enters your mind on a daily basis and you find 101 ways to quash it, either with video games, browsing Facebook, watching TV, or finding other ways to escape the burden of your own desires—that’s the thing you need to act on, even when you don’t feel like it.

Especially when you don’t feel like it.

Two years ago, I wrote an article about the show Undercover Boss for Relevant Magazine’s website. I had never submitted to them before. At that time, I distinctly remember thinking “Why am I even doing this? It’s pointless. No one will read it. No one will care. Why should I waste my time?” I wrote the thing against my own desire to actually write it. But after the first few lines, I’d forgotten about my worries. I’d forgotten about the other things I could have been doing. In the writing, I lost track of time, not because I was wasting it, but because I was redeeming it.

When you use time to do what you were made to do, you never waste it. 

I offered Relevant a few more articles which were published to wild fanfare . . .  from my friends and family, but that was more than enough appreciation for me. Years later, that first significant volley of the victors in my mind’s civil war led me to a job that I’m very grateful to have.

But the war continues, and this blog may be the battlefield in the months to come.

Now watch the video again and go do what you’re supposed to be doing.

—

The gestation for this post came from the collision of two posts I recently read, Surfing, by Kimberlee Conway Ireton, and The Psychology of Procrastination, from Scott McClellan at Collide Magazine, who featured the video shown above.

Because the day before I felt like this:

While there are thousands of people much worse off than myself, part of my self-pitying ice cream coma arrived as a result of finally learning the answer to a specific job application process that’s lasted for the last three months. (The answer was no in case the picture didn’t clue you in). I drowned my sorrows in a PB&C shake from Cold Stone Creamery. It helped. A little.

But today, like every day, is a new day. Motivation has returned. Self-confidence, ever wavering though it may be, came back to roost. I have ideas for better utilizing my time. (I’ve watched the entire first season of 24 in about a week – thank you Netflix streaming -  and tore apart my defunct PS3, among other things). I’d like to help you, or your friends.

This is where you come in.

• Do you need a simple website?
• Maybe a brochure or newsletter or heck, even a magazine?
• An article written and pitched?

I can write. I can design. I can do layout. Yes, I will ask for a fee in return for these services, but it will be a mutually beneficial venture: inexpensive for you, experience for me. Pricing will be discussed up front, before any work is done, and will be on a case-by-case basis based on your needs.

So if you or someone you know is in need of a small website (I can host it as well), graphic design work, or copywriting, use the contact tab on the left side of this website to contact me.

I promise not to spill chocolate shake on your website.

[P.S. I am still looking for a full-time job in the DFW area, but plan to continue freelance work when a new gig is obtained... as long as the new gig is OK with it.]

But I know what it means for the ground to shift beneath your feet, changing your world in a heartbeat, crumbling foundations you always thought were secure. You see, I’ve been divorced for six months. I’m not sure why I’m telling you this, here, now, but it’s something I have to write about, and I’m tired of pretending as if the thing didn’t happen, or that it hasn’t deeply affected me.

While this divorce doesn’t define me, it’s left an indelible mark on me, it’s part of me, it’s changed me, and as the walking wounded in the scarred cityscape of my life, the words I etch onto cracked walls are sometimes the only things that keep me sane. Someone walking in the wreckage of their own life might, somehow, stumble across this and see that they’re not alone, the same way many others were there (and are still there) to help me.

I’m not to the point where I know how to articulate my experiences without divulging too much personal history. I don’t want to write to blame, but I do want others to be able to learn from my failures. I’ve experienced much personal and spiritual growth over the last year, in spite of going through an ordeal that nearly suffocated my faith in God, almost snuffing Him out like so much unsettled dust obscuring the sun.

But I’m still here, sand in my teeth, digital charcoal in hand, with an enormous amount of things to be thankful for. And even though I can’t fathom what Haitians and Chileans have to go through day by day (a constant reminder that helps me put my own life in perspective), an apt metaphor erupts from this broken ground.

In the wake of major devastation, they were brought back to the very basics – food, water, shelter – and they were incredibly happy to receive those items. While I am nowhere close to their level of physical need, I was brought to the same place spiritually through my recent past, broken down to realize my desperate need of the very basics – faith, love, hope – and I’m incredibly happy to see these abstract ideas become solidified, even if their shape is amorphous at best on some days, or in the slow process of becoming fully real, if that’s even possible this side of the Great Beyond.

In this city of ruins, where the cracks run deep and hope is scarce, there is much to be done, even though I’ve covered many miles already. What I write, I hope, will chronicle that journey, digital charcoal scribblings for all of us, because we are all too acquainted with brokenness.

We are all walking wounded; some are just more aware of it than others.