If your life were a movie, would anyone want to watch it? That’s the core question Donald Miller raises in his book A Million Miles in a Thousand Years. I’ve been making my way through this book as part of group of men that read selected publications and talk about them. It’s not one I would have likely chosen on my own. Miller is an engaging writer who basically thinks out loud on paper. You watch him process life and life’s challenges from page to page.
This title zeros in on significance. It challenges the reader to be the writer of their own personal life movie and to decide to be proactive rather than passive so that their life-story is worth listening to. It’s engaging, thoughtful, even heroic. I appreciate the way Miller challenges us to move beyond the boredom and safety of mediocrity, and to be intentional about living. The central question he asks is valuable.
On the other hand, something big is missing in Miller’s musings. His transparent journey into his own thoughts as he pursues what might be a love relationship and agonizes over reconciliation with his father arouses sympathy. But there is a tenor to this self-disclosure that feels a bit narcissistic. Even when he moves from a life without a compelling story to a life that is more intentional, it’s about him. It’s a journey into finding significance by adding zip and daring and adventure to life. Some of the changes may be altruistic and help others, but they are ultimately an attempt to improve my story.
What seems to be missing is the power of connecting my story with His story. It is God’s story that brings significance to my own. There are people whose lives are compelling reads on paper and fascinating when put on film. But that does not necessarily guarantee that their lives are meaningful in the eyes of God. We all know some folks who seem to always have a fresh adventure to tell. Their tales make our lives seem banal and predictable in comparison. But real significance doesn’t flow from trekking the globe, loving extreme sports, or creating a multi-billion dollar company from $1000 and a dream. Samson had an edgy, outlandish life that would fit the big screen well. But he had a huge moral vacuum in his heart and never achieved intimacy with God. Timothy lacked the fire and combative spirit of his mentor Paul, but he was an indispensable spiritual soldier in the establishment and training of saints in the early church. The prayer warriors whose lives would not make an interesting 30-second commercial made a huge difference in the ministry of Hudson Taylor and William Carey.
Should we step out on faith more? Certainly. Should we dream big? Of course. Should we welcome adventure as an indispensible part of following Christ fully? Yes! But we must remember that the most important question does not revolve around our story, but His Story. Paul’s imprisonment years would make for a boring segment in a screenplay, but it was critical for God’s development of his church in the first century. If our lives are totally dull, we may be hiding from faith opportunities God puts before us. But in the end it is our congruence with His divine narrative that brings significance into the paragraph of our own lives.
