Collectors Item?

I did my final book signing at Riverbend yesterday and sold a lot of books. Although I still have a few copies left, the initial printing of Shiny Spots in the Rust can now be considered a sellout. I don't plan to order a second printing; I sort of like the idea of having a "limited edition" in existence.
Yesterday, a surprising number of people were buying three, six, eight or even twelve copies to use as Christmas gifts. This is extremely gratifying to me and I just want to thank everyone who invested in my first book. I've heard many stories of how the book has blessed people, how it's used as bedtime stories in some families…this is all I could ever have dreamed of. I'll continue to post subsequent columns here, but my "selling" effort is officially over.
I have plans to write another book and have already registered a website for the title, but I haven't written anything yet. It's still percolating. And eventually I will have enough new columns to do another Shiny Spots-type collection…but that will take another year at least.
I have to say that the experience of doing this book was more meaningful that I even imagined, especially the night of the book release party. Reading my own words to that audience was a thrill that will be difficult to top. Thanks for making me feel like a real writer.

(Don't) Wash Me, Please…

Last month we attended something called “Maker Faire” at the Travis County Fairgrounds. It’s an event that’s hard to describe, featuring everything from home-built robots to cars decorated with bizarre objects, a life-size “Mousetrap” game, an amazing demonstration of what happens when you drop Mentos mints into hundreds of bottles of Diet Coke (answer: fountains of fizz forty feet in the air). One of my favorite sights, though, was decidedly low-tech. An artist from San Marcos, Scott Wade, was creating some beautiful artwork in a most unique medium: the dusty windows of his car. He employed his fingers, brushes, popsicle sticks and other tools to draw amazingly-detailed pictures of old Hollywood stars, classic fine art, familiar movie monsters…amazing stuff, all created in the dirt on a windshield. Here's a sample of one of his pictures; you can see many more examples on Scott’s website: dirtycarart.com.
It got me thinking, though. God likes to create in dirt, also. Remember Jesus making mud from dirt and spit…and using to cure a man’s blindness? Remember God forming Adam from the dust of the ground? And when God decided to come down here in human form, He didn’t materialize in a sterile hospital room; he chose a stinky, filthy animal barn. God doesn’t mind dirt.
So why do we often feel so awkward about coming to God when we’ve gotten our hands dirty? Do we think we have to be spotlessly clean to approach Him? We should know better. God loves dirt. It’s the medium He used to make his most prized artistic creation: you. Even in dirt, God sees beauty.
Note: Mike Robertson will be signing his book, Shiny Spots in the Rust, between services today by the Riverbend Bookstore. The book is in limited supply and will likely sell out before Christmas.

One good turn…

For years I’ve been telling people that I knew how I was going to die. Our house is just off Highway 290 outside of Dripping Springs. To turn left into our gate, we have to cross two very busy lanes of traffic coming toward us. Because the gate is just over the crest of a hill, we can’t tell in advance how many cars will be coming. And the same hill makes it impossible to see how many cars are coming from behind. I’ve long been convinced that it was only a matter of time before one of us gets hit from behind while trying to make it home. Many, many times we’ve had to drive right past our gate and turn around, just to approach from the opposite way and avoid the dangerous traffic.
Last week I was heading to the office when I came out of our gate to see an amazing sight: overnight the highway department had marked out a center turn lane. We could now turn into our driveway without flinching and bracing for impact. I found myself singing an old Elton John song: “Someone saved my life tonight, sugar bear.” After years of travelling the same road, the dangerous part had suddenly become safe.
I’ve found that to be true about the path my life has taken, too. Some of the things that once scared me, some of the sirens that once tempted me…they no longer distract me. I’m convinced that the longer we stay on God’s path, the easier the way becomes. He provides us a straight road, a lane of safety where we no longer need to fear. Stay on the path. Someone will save your life, too.