I Want it All (And I Want it Now)

"Don't aim for success if you want it; just do what you love and believe in, and it will come naturally." -- David Frost

There's an episode of The Simpsons in which Homer buys a burrito at the Kwik-E-Mart and Apu tells him it will be ready after 60 seconds in the microwave. "But I want it now," Homer whines.

Yep. I'm Homer.

Why is it so hard to wait for my burrito?

Cuz I'm hungry.

And the only satiation for my hunger is a film career burrito with philanthropic salsa and a side of refried social activism. Of course, I wouldn't mind washing it all down with a financial security margarita.

Here's the thing. If I really want the burrito, I'm going to make it myself. The homemade version may take longer than its microwave counterpart, but it's bound to taste a whole lot better.

I've been working on the recipe for more than 15 years and I think I've finally concocted the right mixture of blood, sweat, and tears. And beef. As in beefcake. Cuz I work out and stuff.

Anyway.

Aside from my weekly self-loathsome breakdowns -- my most recent one was triggered by reading this earlier blog entry (five years later and I still haven't achieved the goal I set forth there) -- I'm more motivated and optimistic than ever before. That burrito is cooking and soon I will devour it.

But for now, I'll do my best to follow David Frost's suggestion of just doing what I love and believe in and allowing success to come to me naturally. After all, I wouldn't want to be stuck with a Monsanto burrito, right? You know, unnatural. Cuz I want success to come naturally.

At least I have a future in running metaphors into the ground.

And the future of this blog will refocus on more specific experiences in this non-cullinary journey of mine from Minnesota to Hollywood. There will still be salsa. There will always be salsa. Especially when the chips are down.

"Plastic Donuts" by Jeff Anderson is a great introduction to spiritual giving

As a member of Waterbrook Multnomah Publishing Group's Blogging for Books program, I get free copies of Christian books in exchange for posting reviews.  With MN 2 Hollywood focused on the film and television industry, the books are often not particularly in line with my purposes for maintaining this blog.

But my faith is important to me.  Not because I want to shove it down other folks' throats, but because the core teachings of Jesus Christ center on loving God and each other.  Christianity aside, nobody can convince me that love is not the exact thing this world needs.

The most recent book I read through this program is "Plastic Donuts" by Jeff Anderson.  It's about tithing, giving to God a portion of what He first gave us.  My view of tithing is likely inconsistent with the view of most Christian leaders in this country.  I don't believe we are called to give specifically to a church, but to give to outlets to which God leads us to give.  This very well may be a church (or churches), but it could also be a charity dedicated to helping others.  I believe we are called to spread the gospel of love that Jesus preached while He was living among us.  I don't believe we are required to fund fancy sanctuaries, extravagant light and sound systems, and inflated pastoral salaries.

But that's another topic for another time.

Here's the review I posted at Amazon for "Plastic Donuts."  I truly do think it's worth a read, especially if you've been hesitant in the past about tithing.

This is a short, easy read. Light on theological jargon, heavy on practical insight, Plastic Donuts is a great introduction to the idea of spiritual giving.

Rather than pound out black and white laws about giving, author Jeff Anderson approaches the subject in a loose manner. He doesn't answer longstanding questions about whether a 10% tithe is intended to come from one's net earnings or gross earnings or whether or not 10% is the benchmark for being right with God. It's a matter of giving what one's heart feels compelled to give, whether it be more or less than 10% and whether that 10% is calculated to the penny off gross or net income.

Nor does he demand a person's tithe go entirely to one's church. Spiritual philanthropy is a far too often overlooked calling for God's people, and Mr. Anderson's words inspire readers to cheerfully give back to God a portion of what He first gave us, whether that be directly to church or to help our brother man.

The parallel between a child offering her father plastic food and God's children offering a portion of their finances to Kingdom work is a little thin, but the message within these concise pages is desperately needed, especially in today's first-world consumerism.

A Perfect Life

"Dear God, please give Denise and her family more money so they can have a perfect life like we have." - P. Overlander

Sigh.

Heart melting.

Perspective granted.

Remember Rolf and Leisl chirping back and forth about being 16 going on 17 in The Sound of Music? My oldest is 7 going on 17.  She speaks of a boyfriend.  She demands a cell phone.  She begs to wear makeup.

This little girl, anxious as she is to grow up, has always had a heart of gold.  From her delicate way of prefacing criticism with: "I don't want to hurt your feelings, Dad, but..." to "I don't want to hurt other dads' feelings, but you're the best dad ever," she has me wrapped ridiculously tightly around every one of her fingers.

Yet she still floors me from time to time.  Like the night she said her table grace and threw in the above request.

Denise is a little girl from the Philippines that we sponsor through Compassion International.  She's been a remote part of our family for a few years now, sending notes and drawings regularly, occupying our prayers daily.  I've heard my girl pray for her many times.

It's impossible to know the exact image of Denise's family my daughter holds in her heart, but it's clear she understands that Denise's isn't a life of prosperity.

But how can my little girl think ours is a perfect life?  Doesn't she know that most months our bills are greater than our income?  Doesn't she know her dad is lustful of a bigger home, a lake home, a California home?  Doesn't our worn, stained carpet torment her like it does me?  What about our toilet than runs unless we lift the tank lid and wiggle the doohicky connected to the thingamajig?  And don't get me started on our yard.  And kitchen.  And my wardrobe.

Lest I paint myself a materialistic covetous whiner, please know I appreciate my blessings of which there are many.  Too many to count.

But I dwell too often on the have-nots in my life.  We all do.  Except my little 7-year-old.  She has it right.  In this instance, the student has outclassed the teacher by a mile.

My desire to be a professional actor and writer and director and producer is still there and always will be, but if life is already perfect, what more could a career in those fields add?  New carpet?  New shoes?  A steak dinner?

I want to close this entry with a pious spiritual claim that if nothing were to change in my career path I would be content in this already perfect life.  But I can't.  Doggone it, I can't.

Eventually my 7-year-old will tot's be 17 like for realz.  Is that how 17-year-olds talk?  Um probs not.  Anyway, she'll have a new perspective on this 'perfect' life.  Hopefully she's able to find a middle ground between the perfect life she perceived at 7 and whatever melodramatic malady she's burdened with at 17.

At any rate, if the life we live today is perceived as perfect by my 7-year-old, it brings sunshine to my periodic pessimistic pity parties.  And that's close enough to perfect for me.

The Richest Man Who Ever Lived, by Steven K. Scott

"Generosity starts in the heart. It always takes action, and it is never passive." - Steven K. Scott, from The Richest Man Who Ever Lived

I'm always looking for financial advice.  As someone who has never, ever been a member of the affluent or  semi-affluent or even quasi-affluent, I've always had to be careful about handling money.  I'd like to experience a life in which every significant purchase isn't crippling.


So when I got a free copy of The Richest Man Who Ever Lived, I was anxious to learn the secrets to creating a more comfortable lifestyle.  Unfortunately for me, I'm already applying (or at least trying to apply) every suggestion from said book.  I'm sure not rich from a financial stance, but I'm wealthy in more important ways.


Still... I look forward to being both!


For anyone interested, here's a review of the book:


The Richest Man Who Ever Lived is essentially a commentary on the Old Testament Book of Proverbs. That can’t be a bad thing. After all, Proverbs contains moral truths universally applicable regardless of one’s faith or lack thereof.


Despite its title, the book is not a guide for getting rich - at least not financially. While applying author Steven K. Scott’s suggestions can certainly contribute to financial gain, the core objective of the book is to provide a framework for achieving wealth in non-monetary forms.


Some readers may be disappointed that a book about the richest man who ever lived (the Old Testament’s Solomon) is not a get-rich financially guide, but rather a get-rich personally guide. True wealth comes not from the digits in a savings account, but from the peace within one’s heart and mind.


But who wouldn’t want a little more money? The Richest Man Who Ever Lived includes the author’s personal experiences of financial gain and loss, the latter of which was always the result of ignoring Solomon’s advice from the Book of Proverbs. When the author heeded Solomon’s advice, his financial success is, at least as much as the author admits, flawless.


The Richest Man Who Ever Lived is not a get-rich guide, but it will help readers manage their finances and personal and interpersonal habits more effectively.


Read Chapter 1 of The Richest Man Who Ever Lived.


I received this book for free from WaterBrook Multnomah Publishing Group for this review.