Next week my new (and first) book comes out.
It’s all about creating the habits necessary to have a consistent prayer and Bible reading time.
While there are loads of good books on these two disciplines, this one takes a look at the science behind how to get started. It’s a practical book about how to make and keep these fundamental habits that open the door to a deeper spiritual life.
And as I sit at the end of this long project, I’m learning a new lesson.
I can very well tweak this thing from here to eternity and still never get around to finishing it.
And even if I tried, it still won’t be perfect. Eventually–the moral is–even if it’s a belly flop, we just have to jump.
Other than being a shameless plug (I know, I’m owning it), it also comes to me as an analogy for something bigger.
Last night I went out with some friends. We walked through the neighborhood, knocking on doors, and starting conversations. We didn’t do it on bicycles, and we didn’t wear ties.
But we were asking people what they knew about Jesus. Most people knew the words, but very few–hardly any–knew the Gospel. So we talked about that.
I’ll readily admit. I’m not too good at this stuff.
But guess what, it doesn’t really matter.
Because here’s the lesson: imperfection is not a reason to hold back.
It feels like a reason. That’s the running narrative we hear.
But it’s not.
In fact, when it comes to big things like sharing the Gospel, our imperfections are the very reason we do it at all.
And when it comes to small things like writing books, or whatever else we’re busy in life doing, the same lesson still applies.
The idea for this book came out of my struggle to keep a consistent prayer time.
I asked around and found it was a very common problem. So I did a lot of research, became a guinea pig, asked a whole lot of questions, and then did some more research.
Out of that came this book.