I was thinking about Nora Ephron, about the ridiculous reach of grace, about how my heart will not stop exploding because Sarah Bessey finally, finally, finally has a book deal.
And then an email. I'm not exactly sure who you are, Samantha, but it was your gift that tipped the scale. A wild, hair-brained idea a handful of months ago to help supplement the writing of my first book. 40 days to do it -- of course I chose 40.
And with 12 days to go -- of course there was 12 -- it was funded.
You did this. Every single one of you reading. Whether you gave or didn't, whether you tweeted or kept silence. Every single one of you who has entered this space in the past three years, taken up a chair, sat down with these vulgar etchings of common grace, you have journeyed with me and made the journey worth the taking.
What struck me the most? The generous gifts -- and there were generous gifts -- were touching, uplifting, propelling. But, truly, it was the small gifts $5 here and there, from people who said that having what they did, it was what they could give. I don't quite know how to be entrusted with that kind of love and support. I don't quite know how to tell you thank you, because it seems so inadequate. With the small gifts you told me my words mattered to you, mattered enough for you to give.
When I nearly gave up blogging a half dozen times.
When I feel inept and unqualified.
When I want to back it all up, move to a farm, and bake all day.
That keeps me going. Your small gifts, the gift of your presence in this space, that is everything to me.
Per the format I agreed to, the funding campaign will stay open for the next twelve days. Even now you are generous, pushing donations still, above, putting me over by $39. Ridiculous.
It's the last I'll say of it until the project officially concludes, at which point I'll share a bit more of some of the wonderful people who helped make this happen, like Tamára and Elora, who pushed this little bird from a nest. For now ...
Tears and laughter and pies.