I'm With Gungor

With all the things circulating in social media lately, one of the things that caught my eye was a controversy over something Christian musician, Michael Gungor, wrote in a post on his blog.  It was a blessing, I believe, that I came across an article from Relevant Magazine addressing the "Gungor issue" before I came across an article from Answers in Genesis that addressed the same issue.

Both of the articles above led me to go read Gungor's blogs for myself.  I read three separate blogs that addressed the issue, the issue being that Gungor doesn't take a literal approach to some of the Biblical accounts in Genesis.  The first blog was entitled "What Do We Believe."  This is the blog that started all the problems, but anyone who has only read the article from Answers in Genesis might have the wrong idea of what Gungor was really saying in the blog.  Anyone who has only read the AIG article might also misunderstand the rationale behind Gungor's second blog on the aforementioned issue, "I'm With You."

Ken Ham's approach was hostile from the start, from the accusatory headline, "Award-Winning Christian Musicians Mock Biblical Creationists."  And if you merely read his article, you might think that's exactly what Gungor (and his wife) were doing.  When I read the blog entry, "I'm With You, " however, it was like I was reading something completely different than what Ken Ham had read.  I didn't see a mocker; I saw a thinker.  I saw someone who had gotten flak from a post (the original "What Do We Believe") that wasn't even about creationism, but rather about being slow to judge others when we don't understand the reasons why they believe what they believe.  Many of those who have read "I'm With You" tend to take Ham's approach, that Gungor was being rude or condescending.  Rather, I think he was defending his beliefs.

I don't want to speak for Gungor, because I don't know him and I'm only vaguely familiar with his music and writing style.  But most people realize that it's hard to say how a person sounds when they're writing--whether they're being hostile or conversational or whatever.  Personally, I don't think Gungor meant to sound like he was mocking anyone.  It seemed to me that he was stating what he believed and why, and he was just doing it in a way that naturally came to him.  He might have been trying to be funny, not because he was flippant about his ideas, but because that's the way he thinks and writes.  And I don't think it's fair that he's being called a mocker simply for defending his beliefs in a way that was natural for him to do so.

When I say "I'm With Gungor," please understand, I'm not at all saying I agree with all of his beliefs.  I think he's wrong on some things, BUT I think it's okay that we don't share all the same beliefs.  I don't think I'll ever meet another human being I agree with on every issue.  What I'm saying when I say, "I'm With Gungor" is that I think the dude has gotten a lot of backlash over something that's really not as big of a deal as many are making it out to be.  I'm not saying it's not important.  I'm saying that it's not so important that we should be giving it this much attention, especially with all the other things going on in the world that deserve our attention.

With that being said, I really wrestled with whether or not I wanted to write this blog.  I think the "Gungor Issue" is overblown, so why would I possibly want to add to the chatter?  Well, aside from the snazzy blog title, this post isn't really so much about Gungor and what he wrote as it is about how the Christian community has responded.  I don't want to talk about Gungor or what he wrote as much as I want to talk about how SCARED I am that people have taken the "Gungor Issue" to the extreme.

This is why it scares me.

1. Too many people are believing something they read ABOUT Gungor instead of actually reading what Gungor actually wrote.

I don't really follow Answers in Genesis or Ken Ham as much as a lot of my Christian friends do.  It's not that I don't agree with him or his ministry--he's just not really on my radar that much.  I don't want to make any judgments about what he writes or does, because honestly, I don't know that much about what he writes or does.  It's not because I have any disrespect for him; I just don't follow him or his teachings that closely.

However, what he has recently written about Gungor might have made me lose a little respect for him, had I had enough of an opinion of him to have respect for him (I don't have disrespect for him; I'm just neutral since I know very little about him).   To read the article from AIG, I would have thought that Gungor was on a mission to corrupt the minds of the youth who listen to his music.  And from some of the conversations I've had about the "Gungor Issue," there are a lot of people who believe just that.  This leads me to a second reason why the Christian response to the "Gungor Issue" scares me.

2. If the Christian community believes that Christian musicians are one of the main sources where young people are getting their theology, well, that's a whole other problem.

This is one of my favorite Rich Mullins quotes:

 It's so funny being a Christian musician. It always scares me when people think so highly of Christian music, Contemporary Christian music especially. Because I kinda go, I know a lot of us, and we don't know jack about anything. Not that I don't want you to buy our records and come to our concerts. I sure do. But you should come for entertainment. If you really want spiritual nourishment, you should go to church...you should read the Scriptures.

I think there are a lot of really amazing Christian musicians.  I have gotten so much encouragement from listening to Christian music, from an old cherished hymn to the newest jam on KLOVE.  I've written several songs myself, and I draw comfort and encouragement from writing Christian songs as well as singing and hearing them.  But Mullins understood that Christian musicians are not supposed to be great theologians.  He knew that they were not supposed to be great role models for others to follow.  That's kind of ironic, because Rich Mullins is one of my role models--mainly because he didn't think or make much of himself, but he made much of God.

But if parents are so concerned that their kids are going to start following the beliefs of the Great Gungor Cult, well, that's problematic because there is no Great Gungor Cult, at least not to my knowledge.  I don't think Gungor is trying to proclaim himself as a great theologian.  Ken Hamm (in the aforementioned AIG article) wrote that: "[Lisa and Michael Gungor] are writing as though they know more than people who have spent their lives studying the inerrancy of Scripture."

Actually, Michael Gungor was simply stating his beliefs in his personal blog.  I find Ham's above statement to be a little outrageous, and more than a little unfair.  Apparently, it's not okay to say what you believe if you're a fairly well-known Christian who has opinions that are different from the accepted norm.  That's all he was doing.  He was writing his thoughts in his personal blog, not publishing a manifest he expected everyone to agree with.  Does that mean he shouldn't have people disagree with him and offer rebuttal?  No, of course there's going to be disagreements and rude internet comments from strangers.  That's what happens when anyone has an opinion on anything these days.  I just think the extreme to which Ham took his response was unfair, especially since HE is in a position of influence.

And parents, if you think your kids are going to start believing or mimicking any old wackadoo thing a Christian musician says or does, then that's saying something about your parenting.  That's saying something about how you've taught or not taught them in the Scripture.  Theology begins at home.  Not in the Church.  AT HOME.  And then Church.  If you don't trust your children enough to make informed decisions about what they're going to believe, then that isn't Michael Gungor's fault.  If anything, he was saying (especially in "I'm With You--Part 2") that we need to actively think about what we believe.  We need to question our faith.  Otherwise, how will we ever know what we believe?  He wasn't trying to lead anyone astray.

Yet, it seems that everyone is going crazy, afraid that Gungor is going to play his guitar and lead all the children away like some modern day Pied Piper.

We. are. going. too. far.

Teach your children to study the Bible.  Teach your children to be discerning.  Pray for your children. Chances are that when they're older, they aren't going to be led astray by something as simple as a blog post by a Christian musician.

And don't get carried away every time a well-known Christian says something controversial.

3. People are getting carried away every time a well-known Christian says something controversial.  AND THE WORLD IS WATCHING.

This is what scares me the most.  Some of my non-Christian friends have been watching this "Gungor Issue" unfold.  And I'm embarrassed.  I'm so, so embarrassed.

Why?  Because I've been trying to communicate to them and show them for years that Christians aren't the intolerant people they want to assume we are.  Because I've been trying to break down the walls between us, the walls built because they've seen too many Christians act without love, without consideration of another person's ideas.  Because I've been trying to show them that Christians can use their brains and form their own opinions and not just blindly follow what someone else says about another person or an issue.  And the Christian response to this issue has shown them exactly the opposite.

I'm not saying we have to agree with Gungor.  We don't.  We absolutely don't.  But in the past three days, I've seen people say the most ridiculous things about a man they don't know.

"I've never heard of Gungor before, but I'm boycotting him from now on."

And my non-Christian friends are seeing yet another example of how Christians shut out anything that makes them uncomfortable.  And, side note, it's not really boycotting if you weren't actively supporting something before.  Nothing changes if you're "boycotting" something you'd never heard of before.

"Gungor isn't a real Christian."

And my non-Christian friends are seeing yet another example of how Christians judge without taking the time to understand.  And, another side note, it's not our place to say that someone is a Christian or not.  That's between him and God.  I could say more on my thoughts on his apparent Christianity, but in the end, it doesn't matter.  It's between him and God.

"Gungor doesn't believe in the Bible."
"Gungor thinks he's better than everyone else."
"Gungor is leading people astray."
"Gungor is undermining the authority of God."
"Gungor steps on kittens."

Okay, I might have made that last one up, but the thing is, the overall response to the "Gungor Issue" is too much.  It's just too much.

I am not saying we shouldn't speak up when we disagree with someone, especially over a matter that we deem important.  I think it's important, but I do recognize that there are a lot of people who find this issue a lot more important than I do.  If that's you, I don't want to disregard you.  I don't want to disregard your feelings.

But here's the thing.  When we are fighting to show the world that we're not intolerant, as so many in the world truly believe us to be, then how does it look when we flat out attack someone for saying something we disagree with?  Or do we only have to be tolerant to non-Christians because we want to show Jesus' love to them?  Should we not also show love and grace and understanding to fellow Christians (even if some don't believe he really is a Christian--especially for those some who don't believe he really is a Christian)?

Tolerance isn't what the world thinks it is, okay?  The world says tolerance means we have to agree with everyone about everything, or otherwise, we're intolerant.  But here's what I've seen in this "Gungor Issue" that scares me, that makes me absolutely sick to my stomach.  I'm seeing Christians act with TRUE intolerance.  We've become like the rest of the world, the ones who say, "You disagree with me, so I must disassociate with you."

When we take our ideas to the extreme and start treating a (supposed) fellow Christian like an outcast because he said something we don't like, what does that look like to the world?  Can we not disagree with someone without going crazy?  Can we not say, "Your understanding of Scripture is wrong, and here's why" without attacking a person instead of just addressing his ideas?

This is a quote from the aforementioned article from Relevant Magazine:

...as Christians we tend to act like we have a belief system that is like a bubble: It is fragile and easily popped if anything even touches any part of it. We think we have to protect our bubble.
But when did the Christian faith become so fragile? It is OK to ask the tough questions, to question our beliefs to find them to be true (and if not true to find the truth God is revealing to us).

I'm embarrassed and I'm scared because I'm afraid this "Gungor Issue" has revealed just how fragile the Christian faith might have become--at least to the eyes of those in the world who are watching.  And the world is watching.  

I'm not sure what the solution is, but I'm hoping next time something like this happens (because it's going to happen), the Christian community will respond with a little less crazy and a lot more love.  We need to still be WITH the ones we disagree with.  

Intercession as Leadership

This morning, I began my prayer thanking God for the ease of which I can come into His presence. And then immediately thanked God for the incredibly difficult things He has done to enable me to easily come into His presence. Because I'm usually praying in my pajamas or in tshirt and tattered jeans, and I'm entering a throne room, going into the Most Holy Place before the Most Holy King. Yet, there's no ritual, no big production, no methodic cleansing. It's just me, in the presence of God.

And intercession is a really interesting thing in light of that. It takes a certain degree of boldness to ask God for anything. It also takes trust-trust that He who had enabled us to come to Him will hear us.

One of my favorite C.S. Lewis quotes is from THE MAGICIAN'S NEPHEW. The newly winged, newly named flying horse, Fledge, addresses the children traveling with him, who are curious as to why Aslan didn't think to provide for their meals on their journey:

"I'm sure Aslan would have, if you'd asked him," said Fledge.
"Wouldn't he know without being asked?" said Polly.
"I have no doubt that he would....  But I've a sort of idea that he likes being asked."

Asking for things in prayer is a sign of trust, of obedience. But when it comes to praying for others, I think that sometimes trust is taken to another level, specifically when praying for those who are without Christ or who have strayed from Him.

There are many examples of leadership in Scripture-good and bad examples. There are judges who do really bizarre and mighty things. There are kings who worship false gods, as well as those who try to tear down the idols.  There are shepherds who become rulers and sinners who become apostles.

Sometimes it's easy to see leadership. It's some mighty act of prowess or some major proclamation or accomplishment. But lately I've been seeing that leadership can be something very simple. It takes a lot of humility and boldness, yet most of the hard work has already been finished.

When Sodom was about to be destroyed, Abraham did something very bold, even dangerous. He stood between God and the city, asking that if only fifty men, only forty-five men, only thirty men, only twenty men, only ten men be found who were righteous, that God might spare the city. And while Sodom was destroyed because not even ten righteous men could be found, it's amazing to see how God listened to the prayers of Abraham.

After Israel had made the golden calf while Moses was on Sinai, God revealed to Moses that He planned to kill the Israelites. But Moses stood between God and the people, pleading on their behalf. And God relented.

Very shortly afterwards, Moses prayed for God to be with Israel, with him as he led this stubborn people. He wanted to see God's glory, for He couldn't lead the people alone. And God let Moses see His back, not His face, to see where He had been. He had been with them and would continue to be.

I think of the friends of the paralyzed man who tried to vary him to see Jesus.  When they couldn't get through the crowds, they cut a hole in some stranger's roof and lowered him down on a mat. That might not be traditional prayer, but symbolically, they were carrying their needy friend to Jesus. And Jesus didn't just heal him; he first forgave his sins.

And I've been very convicted lately about the need to pray for others, especially for those who don't even know they need prayer, or who don't know they need the One who has made prayer possible.

I have friends who are so lost they probably would laugh at me if they knew I was praying for them. It seems hopeless. It's very discouraging sometimes.

But I think we're called to be bold, to be leaders, to stand between God and those for whom we are praying, pleading on their behalf.

It doesn't always mean they will come to Jesus. And prayer doesn't excuse us from speaking truth in love. But prayer is the first line of defense against satan, not the last, as we sometimes foolishly believe. 

James wrote that the prayers of the righteous avail much. They are effective. And with all that God has done to enable us to come to Him, we should certainly come.

It's not easy, pleading for others, but the hardest work has already been accomplished.

All

"The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure.
Who can understand it?" Jeremiah 17:9

I've been a Christian for around two and a half decades, give or take a few years.  I'm not one of those people who can pinpoint an exact moment when I accepted Christ.  I was young; it felt like He had been pursuing me my entire life.  There wasn't any big moment of salvation that I can remember; I just remember Him.  For me, knowing Christ was a gradual thing.

And I don't think that has changed.  Christ is still pursuing me, and I'm still trying to get to know Him.  I figure I will be getting to know Him until the imperfect glass is shattered and I can see Him face to face.  And recently, I was reminded of how poor of a reflection I really do see....

Even after all this time of being a Christian, I still sometimes get caught in the snare of believing that I have to be perfect before I can be accepted.  Some people claim they don't want to become Christians because all of Jesus' supposed followers are hypocrites.  And I am definitely guilty of hypocrisy.  I'm a sinner.  I sin.  I sin rebelliously.  I sin knowingly.  But I don't see any point in hiding my imperfections from people who think Christians are supposed to be perfect.  If Christians were perfect, then there would be no need for Christ.   That's kind of the point of Christianity.  But I forget that sometimes....

Like Eve, who wanted to be like God--who basically wanted to be her own god, I want things my own way, too.  And with one sin, one act of rebellion, I feel that separation between myself and the God who I've been gradually getting to know my entire life.  It's worse when I find myself repeating the same sin again.  And again. 

And when enough time passes and I can trick myself into believing that I'm not caught up in that pattern of sin anymore, I start feeling pretty good about myself.  Then, when I inevitably mess up again, I feel worthless.  I pray for forgiveness, but I don't believe God will listen to me in my sinful state.  And I try to make it all right again, wait till more time passes, wait until I feel like a good enough Christian to come fully to God with a clean heart.

But my heart isn't clean.  My heart is deceptive.  It is desperately sick, as the NASB puts it.  I like the NIV (1984)  version a little better: It's beyond all cure.  That helps me understand the hopelessness of my situation.

The reality of my situation is that I can never be good enough for the mighty, holy God who appeared in a cloud of fire to Moses and the Israelites, causing the very mountains to tremble.  The reality of my situation is that I can never be good enough for the God who appeared in human flesh and took the form of a servant, obeying unto death.  And my feeble brain can't wrap itself around the fact that this God, the cloud of fire that demanded reverence, came down to earth in the form of a humble human in order to die to atone for my sin, for my rebellion. 

I can believe that God is powerful.  I can believe that God defeated death and hell.  I can believe that God conquered sin.

So why am I foolish enough to think that my sinfulness is stronger than God? 

The verses before Jeremiah 17:9 show a contrast.  Cursed is the one who trusts in man, who depends in his own strength (Jeremiah 17:5).  That's where I live a lot of the time.  I want a clean heart.  I want an honest heart.  But there's no hope for me when I trust in my own strength.  My heart is deceptive, beyond all cure.

But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in Him (Jeremiah 17:7). 

There's the hope.  There's the only hope. 

And when I trust in myself, I miss it.

My heart is indeed deceptive.  My heart is desperately, desperately sick. 

But the Lord searches it.

There's our hope.

"O LORD, the hope of Israel,

all who forsake you will be put to shame.
Those who turn away from you will be written in the dust
because they have forsaken the LORD,
the spring of living water.
Heal me, O LORD, and I will be healed;
save me and I will be saved,
for you are the one I praise." -Jeremiah 17:13-14
It occurred to me recently, this supposedly mature Christian, that God doesn't just want the pretty and nice and orderly stuff in our lives.  And that's good, because there's not really that much in me that's pretty and nice and orderly.  God doesn't want just the stuff I feel good about, the successes and the victories and the happy times.  God wants me.  He wants all of me. 

Like Eve, I have chosen to rebel.  I've tried to make myself into my own personal god and savior.  I've sought first my own kingdom and my own righteousness.  But all I've done is earned the wages of death, of hopelessness, of a deceitful, desperately sick heart.  I wanted everything; I got nothing.  And that's exactly what I deserve.

The thing is, Christ died to redeem us to Himself, to restore our relationship with Him.  His death and conquering of death makes it possible for me to be His again.  He is the Living Water, offered to all who are thirsty.  In a manner of speaking, it's not sin that causes people to die and go to hell; it's the rejection of the One who can save them from sin and death.

I'm not saying that sin is to be taken lightly.  Christ died to set us free from sin, and sometimes I forget that I'm a new creation.  I do desire brokenness for my sin, and I ask for that, because I know I'm not even strong enough to muster up that brokenness in myself. 

But my sin, my failure, my victory, my success, none of it ultimately matters.  What ultimately matters is the work that Jesus did on the cross for me, for you, for His own Name's sake.  And because I've put my trust in Him, I, the rebel, I the sinner, I get something I can't deserve.  I get it all.  I become a joint heir to the Kingdom I should have been seeking first all along.

It's hard for me to see God as a fiery cloud, as a living and active Spirit, a sharp double-edged sword, that cuts down deep to judge my deceptive heart.  It's hard for me to see this same God as a sympathetic High Priest who was tempted in every way, yet without sin.  It's hard for me to believe that I can boldly approach the throne of grace without trying to justify myself. 

But God isn't just one or the other.  God is both the holy, powerful cloud and the suffering servant who can sympathize with my weakness.  God is.  And just as God wants all of me, He also gives me all of Himself.  The same Power that raised Jesus from the dead has given Himself to me.  I'm not holy, could never be holy, in my own strength.  I'm holy because He's given me His holiness.

And my deceitful heart, which is beyond all cure?  When He, for which nothing is impossible, heals me, I am healed. When He saves me, I am saved.  Because blessed is the One who trusts in the Lord. 

And He is the One I praise.

Who can understand my heart?
The Lord.
The Lord searches it.
He knows me.

And one day, the dark glass will shatter.

I'll see Him, too.  All of Him.  Face to face.

And I'll know Him fully, just as I am fully known.

Fill-in-the-blank Friday: ...And The "Debbie Downer" of Biblical Prophets Award Goes To...

"My blood hurts."  --What's Her Face, Teen Girl Squad, Homestar Runner

I used to think that Jeremiah was a whiny dude.  Not Jeremiah the Bullfrog.  I don't typically make good friends with bullfrogs, and I don't drink, so they can't help me drink my wine.  Even if I did drink, I figure a bullfrog would probably rather take a swim in a glass of wine than actually drink it, and maybe that would be more efficient in getting the bullfrog nice and shnockered.  But I'm not talking about bullfrogs, I'm talking about Biblical prophets.  Jeremiah was one of them.  And I used to think the guy was kind of the "Debbie Downer" of the prophets. 

When I used to read Jeremiah, I'd see him go back and forth between praising God and complaining about how badly he was being treated and/or pleading with God to be merciful to the very people who were mistreating him.  But I've recently read Jeremiah, and I don't think that he's too whiny anymore.  I mean, they called him a liar (and worse).  They threw him in a cistern and left him for dead.  They burned up his writing--which, let me tell you, hurts me on a deep, personal level.  God forbid him to marry.  All in all, I'd be a little on the whiny side, too (and Jeremiah wasn't really all that whiny, when I really think about it).  In fact, forgedduhboudit.  I'd probably throw my towel in the moment anyone opposed me. 

I guess I was always comparing Jeremiah to Ezekiel, who was probably like the least whiny of all the Biblical prophets.  God commanded Ezekiel to lay on his side for over a year.  Then, when that year was over, Zeke had to flip over and lay on his other side for over a month.  Did Zeke complain about this?  Maybe, but that's not recorded in Scripture.  The one complaint that is recorded?  "Lord, don't make me cook my food over human poop, because that would be unclean, and I don't want to defile myself."  Ezekiel didn't get upset about having to be a sign to a ridiculous people; he got upset because he didn't want to go against God's Law.  And God allowed him to cook his food over cow manure instead.  While he was lying on his side.  For over a year.  And he didn't complain. 

But me?  I'm all complainy because I have blisters (on top of my blisters) on my feet because of the running I've done this week in preparation for my 10K on Saturday (pray I don't die).  I'm all complainy because I'm tired.  I'm all complainy because my car's not in amazing shape, because I have bills to pay, because the kids I watch don't listen...etc. 

So, all-in-all, I guess I'd make a horrible Biblical prophet.  Unless I were Jonah, but that guy had issues.  If anyone's the "Debbie Downer" of Biblical prophets--it's him!

Fill-in-the-Blank Friday: Like a Child

I still haven't figured out what I want to do with Friday blogs, so for now it's kind of like "whatever I want to write about Wednesday."  I'm open to suggestions if you have any...unless your suggestion is Fish Stick Friday, because I kind of hate fish sticks, and a blog series on them would stink more than they do.

So last night I was looking over a Bible lesson I'm supposed to be teaching to kids today.  I must admit, I'm just a little bit nervous about teaching this lesson.  It's not that I don't teach kids stories from the Bible.  It's not that I don't teach kids about God.  I like teaching small kids about God, Jesus, the Bible.  Sometimes I'm even good at it.  But this situation is a little different.

I'm going to be teaching school aged kids, not preschoolers. 

Some people don't see that there's a lot of difference in younger kids and just a little bit older kids.  But there is.  Especially for someone like me, who isn't technically a teacher.  I don't really have good teaching skills.  I had a professor in college who, for some reason, thought I was a natural teacher, and it always frustrated our relationship because I knew that deep down (and also on the surface), teaching just isn't one of my very special gifts.  I'm reminded of this every time I try to help one of the kids I watch with her homework.  Just this week I was looking at a very simple math problem (a story problem) that was stumping the 7th grader.  I knew how to solve it.  I even knew the answer.  But when I tried to explain it to her, I had no idea how.  I stumbled over words for a few minutes, and then I just said, "You're supposed to divide."  She said, "But I need to write an algebraic equation."  I said, "Well, I have no idea how they want you to do that, but just divide, because that will get you the right answer."  And I think I would have liked math a lot better and done a lot better in math if they had simplified it.  It seems to me that they make it as complicated as possible in order to try to explain the theories behind it.  I don't need the theories to know how to do it.  I just need to know how to solve it as simply as possible.  And now that my brain has developed a little more, I'm actually seeing some things that my math teachers were trying to explain to me, only as a kid it all confused me.  I'm wondering if I would have grasped stuff earlier if they hadn't made it complicated.

And I think the reason I am able to teach and actually like teaching preschoolers is because it's easier for me to talk to them.  Maybe I'm just more on their level or something.  And maybe that's not a bad thing.

When I teach preschoolers, I teach things I have a solid grip on, like colors, or numbers, or letters, or what a kitty cat says.  When I teach preschoolers about God and the Bible, it's also about things I have (or should have) a solid grip on, like "Jesus loves us," and "We don't have to be afraid.  We can trust God because He is strong and He loves us," and "God wants us to be kind and love one another."  I've never really attempted to teach anything much deeper than some basic principles and truths.

But the more I started thinking about it, the more I realize that it's the preschoolers that actually understand those basic truths.  They might have a little trouble putting those truths into practice (don't we all?), but most of the preschoolers I know have a lot to say when I ask them about Jesus.  They can recite Bible stories, but they also know that God is good, that God loves them.  Sometimes, on rare, blessed occasions, preschoolers can even apply some of the truths they've learned--by sharing a toy because they know it's what Jesus would want them to do, by singing a song about how big God is when they feel afraid.  These are the moments I just cherish.

More often than not, though, young kids have trouble looking beyond themselves.  They're not necessarily selfish; they're self-centered.  They are still figuring out that the world is made up of other people who have feelings that are just as valid as theirs.  So it's hard to share; it's hard to remember to be kind; it's even harder to rise above such base emotions as fear and anger.  Let's face it--it's hard for adults to do those things.  But I think it might be harder for adults to do other things, too.

Most small children aren't going to question it when they hear that God loves them.  They might not be able to grasp the fullness that is God's love, and they're definitely not going to have any idea about how His love balances with His holiness (how many of us have more than just an inkling of a clue about that, anyway?).  Adults question.  Older kids question.  And questions aren't bad at all; they're a sign of maturity and growth.  I'd have issues with an adult "Christian" who never questioned their faith, because I firmly believe that one can't come to a firm faith without first questioning it.  And preschoolers question sometimes, too, but their questions are different. 

Preschoolers' questions are based on their understanding of the world as it applies to them.  If I told preschoolers a story about David and Goliath, they would probably get the idea that God protected David (and maybe even Israel), but their questions would be focused on the cool giant Goliath (How big was he?  How big was his sword?  Why did David cut off his head? Are there giants around today?  How come Mommy doesn't let me play with MY slingshot?).  They're honest questions from their little brains that have no idea how NOT to blurt out the first thing that comes into their minds.  But I've never heard a preschool aged child say, "Does Jesus really love me? Is God as strong as you said?"  Nope.  They get it.  They get that there's someone looking out for them.  They know that there's a God who is strong, who loves them. 

It's the grown-ups I know (including myself) that say or think things like, "How can God possibly get me through this situation? Does God even care? Is God even real?"  I get it that preschoolers pretty much believe what we tell them, but the Bible is full of stories that reveal a loving, strong God--preschoolers haven't learned how to doubt the Word of God yet.  So when I tell them a truth from the Bible, they take God at His Word.
In some ways, preschoolers grasp deeper truths than adults do.  These deeper truths are something some people try to make way too complicated.  But the deepest truths of Christianity aren't that complicated.  They're simple.  Most adults miss them, probably because we expect things to be complicated and like to make things complicated.  Grace, mercy, love, power, goodness, holiness--God isn't as complicated as we sometimes make Him out to be.  He's beyond our understanding, but little children don't worry about that.  They just know the simple things that elude the wise and learned.  It's enough for them.

And I'm very grateful God's given me opportunities to teach them...and learn from them.  He really is good.

Sunday Update: Wrestling

I'm not going to talk much about last week.  It was disappointing on so many levels.  I wasted a lot of time and energy on stupid stuff that doesn't really matter.  I could have used that time and energy for things that built up God's Kingdom instead of bulding up my own. That's all I have to say about that.

But church was very good today.  I almost didn't go.  I was having some wardrobe malfunctions (have you ever had an epic battle with a zipper?  I have.  Me-1, Zipper-0!).  I was running horribly late.  But every time I thought, "I might as well just go back to sleep," I had this inkling that Satan was trying to keep me from going to church today.  I'm not sure if that's the case (though I really have to wonder if there's ever a time when Satan doesn't want to discourage people from going to church--if it's a God-honoring, Christ-centered church and not just a glorified social club).  But I defeated the zipper and made it to church twenty minutes late.

We're going through 2 Kings right now in Sunday School Adult Bible Study, and today we talked about Elisha and different ways God provided for different people.  One of the women we talked about was wealthy, respected, and generous, but she had no children.  Elisha prophesied that she would have a son.  The woman's reaction revealed that she was afraid to even hope for this--which leads me to believe she had hoped for it for quite some time.  She desperately wanted children, but she had been hoping for so long that she had come to the point where she was afraid to hope anymore. 

I understand this.  I think my apathy is centered around this idea of being afraid to hope.

The thing is, this woman did have a child.  And a few years later, the child died.  The woman's reaction was pretty remarkable.  She put the boy's body in a closed room, and without telling anyone what had happened, she immediately made preparations to journey to Elisha.  She acted as if all was well.  When she was coming near, Elisha sent a servant to meet her, but she remained calm until she actually reached Elisha's side.  Only after coming to Elisha did she show her desperation, her need.  Elisha sent his servant to the boy, but the woman would not leave Elisha's side.  She knew that her child had not been given to her just to be taken away again, and she knew that Elisha was the man of God who would bring her son back to her.

When her child was only a promise, she was afraid to hope.  After her child had been given to her, she fought for him...because she knew there was a reason he had been promised. 

While studying this, I was reminded of Abraham and Isaac.  God had promised this child.  Then God commanded Abraham to sacrifice the promised child.  Abraham obeyed, believing that God would provide in one way or another.  He believed that if Isaac died, God would be able to bring him back to life.  Because God had made the promise that Isaac would be the first of Abraham's many, many, many, many (etc. etc. etc.) descendants.

I'm sensitive to stories about promised children because, while I've never been promised children at all, I have wanted to be a mom for many years now.  It's not happened.  It might never happen.  And if it doesn't, I'm okay with that.  I have a lot of borrowed children, so I'm good.  In a weird way, God has given me a lot of kids, just like I asked Him.  So it's okay.  Better than okay.  I have far more than I deserve.

But there are things that I desire besides children.  I don't know if I can really say that I have been promised these things.  God has never sent me a lightning bolt or shining angel to tell me that one day I'll be a published author.  But I can't help but believe that He's given me my passions and gifts for writing for a reason--or for many reasons.  I can't help but believe that He's given me the stories that live in my brain (some of which even live on paper).  It's not a promise, really, but it's a hope.

Lately...I think I've gotten tired or fearful of hoping. 

A lot of good little Christians probably don't like the fact that I think that it's a good thing to wrestle with God sometimes.  I really like the story in Genesis of Jacob wrestling with the angel.  Scripture says that Jacob wrestled with God and man and overcame.  But do I think for one minute that Jacob, a mere man, could overcome God?  Well, there's only one way that could ever be possible, and that's if God let him win.  God could strike Jacob down in a heartbeat, with just a thought.  He didn't have to wrench Jacob's hip out of place in a feeble attempt to make Jacob release Him.  He could have wiped Jacob out with no effort at all.  But there was something God was doing in the midst of that wrestling match.  And I think it showed a lot about Jacob's character that he held out and held on for that blessing. 

Jacob was a deceiver, a grasper.  He hadn't rightfully earned anything he'd gained.  He still had the nerve to wrestle with God and say, "I'm not letting go until you bless me." 

Now, if we didn't know what happened, the good little Christian would probably assume that God would react to Jacob's audacity with lots of good ol' fashioned smiting.  But God didn't smite Jacob.  God blessed Jacob. 

Why?  Why would God grant Jacob what he wanted?  I think the answer is pretty simple.  Jacob had faith.  Just like Abraham had faith.  And that faith was credited to him as righteousness.

And while we all need to surrender to God, I truly believe there are times when God calls us to wrestle with Him.  There are times when all we have is a faint, frail hope.  In these times, it's easy to get discouraged and just stop trying.  But it takes far more faith to hold on to that hope, holding on to God, wrestling while waiting for that blessing.

I'm at this place now.  Well, I've been here for a while.  I've been waiting and working for some things, but I've gotten to that place where I'm just so afraid to hope.  I'm so afraid of getting my hopes crushed, so I don't want to risk believing.  But the Lord has reminded me...again (I need lots of reminders)...that He is faithful.  And I need to be more like that woman who knew everything was going to be all right, even when all hope seemed lost.  She rushed to Elisha, wouldn't leave his side, until she had what she believed she was meant to have.  Abraham was willing to sacrifice his beloved child, knowing God would not go back on His promise.  Jacob had the faith and boldness to actually wrestle with the God, demanding a blessing, though he had no natural right to it.

And I need to get back to the point where I'm working towards my goals.  I need to get back to the point where I'm working as if I actually believe I'm going to have what I believe I'm meant to have.  I need to wrestle with God as strongly as I wrestled with that blasted zipper this morning.  God's made me stubborn for a reason, and I need to rediscover that stubbornness.  I need to audaciously wrestle with God, holding on to Him until I get my blessing.

...and I really don't have to fear hope, because the truth of the matter is, His hold on me is even stronger.

Peace

It's safe to say that 2011 has been an "off year" when it comes to writing.  I've not done much--definitely not all the things I had planned to do.  I know the year isn't quite over yet, but that halfway point of JUNE is mocking me, reminding me of how much of a writing failure I am.

Only, I don't feel like a failure at all.  I probably should.  I haven't really met many of my goals.  I haven't really even tried.  Yesterday (okay, and today too), I spent my free afternoon taking a nap and playing stupid computer games.  I think I might have a slight touch of apathy going on right now.  I hope it passes soon--like by next week, when I have lots of time off that can be used to work on query stuff.

Yeah, but I guess I should be more upset that this year hasn't gone exactly as I had planned back in the last few days of 2010.  The last two or three years of my life, I've noticed that my calendar is a week off from the actual calendar.  My New Year doesn't begin on New Year's Day.  It begins at Christmas.  Christmas is the day on which my entire year revolves. 

For the last few Christmases, my brain has focused on one idea that has to do with the Christmas story--with the story of God coming down to earth in the form of man in order to redeem mankind from death and sin.  Three years ago, I focused on the Star--connecting the stars that God showed Abraham back in Genesis 15 with the Star the Wisemen followed in Matthew 2.  I even wrote a song about it.  Two years ago, I focused on Joy. 

When this past Christmas came, I started thinking early about what idea would stand out.  One word kept standing out to me.  Peace. 

Linus in A Charlie Brown Christmas (my fave Christmas movie) read a passage from Luke 2--"...Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace, good will to men."  A song we sang for the choir Christmas program at church--Casting Crown's version of "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day" with the refrain "Peace on earth.  Peace on earth.  Peace on earth, good will to men." 

I wish I had taken Greek and Hebrew in college instead of going with Spanish (because I can't speak Spanish).  Then I'd be able to have better insight as to what that phrase "peace on earth, good will to men" actually means.  I've read several different translations, which all give the phrase a slightly different meaning.  "Peace on earth to men, on whom His favor rests."  "Peace on earth to those on whom His favor rests."  Does it mean that God offers peace and good will to ALL men?  Does it mean that God offers peace because His favor rests with men?  Does it mean that God offers peace ONLY to those on whom His favor rests?

I wrestled with this for a little while last December.  I came to the conclusion that while the translation and arguments surrounding it might be important at other times and in other circumstances, it didn't really matter to what I was trying to figure out.  The fact is, God did come to earth to offer peace to those who would accept Him.  He created us.  We rebelled against Him.  He came down with us to offer us reconciliation.  The angel came to bring good news.  And it was the best news ever.  I think that's why my whole year revolves around Christmas.  Easter is important too--it's also the best news ever that death couldn't keep Christ in that tomb.  I think the fact that Christ came and the fact that Christ lives are both the best news ever.

The thing is, this whole idea of peace didn't leave me after the Christmas season ended.  And I'm still trying to wrap my feeble human brain around the concept of peace. 

I'm an angry person.  If you haven't noticed this about me, it's not because it's not true.  It's just because you haven't seen it.  The ladies I work with at the drop-in center have seen it.  Lol.  I have a short fuse.  It's not as bad as it used to be, but it still exists.

But I can handle the short fuse a lot better than I can handle the grudges I hold, the bitterness I have let creep into my heart, the irrational senses of unfairness that I feel.  The Lord has been working in my heart since this past Christmas to root out a lot of the anger I didn't even realize I had.  Reminders of past pain and grievances have just popped up at seemingly random times, and I've had to deal with them and/or let them go.  And it's been a long, often difficult process.  And I know He's not done yet.  I'm grateful He loves me enough to work on me...

All of this is to say that sometimes the plans I make for my year, for my month, for my week, for my day--well, all of them can be thwarted quite easily.  I had plans for this to be a major writing year.  The Lord has had plans to work on my heart.  He's showing me that peace, although I can't understand it, is something worth pursuing.  He's showing me that as an imperfect person, I can't hold the imperfections of others against them.  He's showing me how to listen more than I speak.  He's bringing situations into my life that force me to be confrontational, yet He's showing me how to be gentle in the midst of those confrontations.  And I'm learning again that everything that comes into my life is filtered through grace.  God knows things are going to happen to me.  He knew I'd have a couple of financial issues this year (so far).  He knew I'd have to deal with work issues and situations in the lives of friends.  He knows everything that's coming, and He's allowing it--the good and the bad--because everything that comes my way is an opportunity to trust Him and show love to others.
And I have a feeling that peace is found somewhere in the midst of all of that. 

So no, this year hasn't gone exactly as planned.  I could definitely stand to work a little harder, so don't get me wrong.  I'm not using this as a cop-out.  But when it comes down to it, I'm not really that stressed out that things haven't gone as I planned.  God has His own plans.  And I'm hoping that when Christmas rolls around again, I'm closer to peace (and to Him) than I was before.

SEW Sunday: Profit

In my Bible reading, I've been going through Proverbs for the past few days.  I read Proverbs 14 last night.  Honestly, some of the Proverbs seem pointless, like Proverbs 14:5 "A trustworthy witness will not lie, but a false witness utters lies."  Um...not to be rude, Solomon...but doesn't that kind of, um...go without saying?

Then there are Proverbs that really make me think, like Proverbs 14:23 "In all labor there is profit, but mere talk leads only to poverty."

I have worked A LOT this week.  Every day, Monday through Saturday, I worked at LEAST two jobs.  I've worked more than 50 hours, not counting the time it took me to drive from one job to the other.  I've also had to take my car to two different places and spent a LOT of money trying to get it fixed up--and it's still not all done.

Sometimes I just really feel like I'm working ALL the time, and just when I start to get ahead (or even just caught up with things) financially, I have to put money into something else.  The other day I was sitting in the tire shop while they put two new tires on my car that will probably wear out within a year because I'm too broke to afford the repair my car needs to ensure my wheels are in proper alignment.  And I was texting my mom.  I texted her something like, "I'm always working.  I'm always broke.  I NEED TO SELL MY NOVEL."

And I'm smart enough to know that's probably not going to solve all my problems...because writers, even published ones, are often pretty broke.  If I sold my book, I probably couldn't quit any of my day jobs...but then I do keep hoping I strike gold like J. K. Rowling...if only.

But that's not the main issue here.

I have been doing a lot of talking.  There are definitely a lot of things I still need to do before sending any queries.  Have I done them?  No.  I've just talked about doing them. 

Now, I've got a butt load of excuses, and I think them reasonable.  After the week I just had, I know there is no way I could have squeezed in any writing activities.  In fact I haven't written down a single word of a story since LAST Sunday afternoon.  I'm a writer who hasn't written anything on a project in a week.  I have simply not had the time.  And that sucks, but that's the way it goes some weeks.

This upcoming week doesn't look too promising, either.  I'm working two jobs Monday, two jobs Tuesday, two jobs Wednesday, and on Thursday I'm definitely working one job and I'm on call for another.  If I don't get called in to that other job, I'm going to leave town on Thursday to go visit family in KY (if I end up working Thursday night, I plan to leave Friday morning).  And I'll be gone all weekend.  My bro is graduating college.  My dad and oldest niece both have birthdays.  There's a possibility I'll have to work on a song to sing at my parent's church.  Do you think I'm going to have time for writing?  HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!
No.

So basically, my current project is on a standstill until I have time to do something with it.  I don't have time to work on stuff for queries.  Editing is out of the question.  Reading for fun/inspiration is the furthest thing from my mind.

And it's easy to get discouraged in the midst of a busy schedule.  It's easy to say, "Well, I'm not doing what I'm supposed to be doing as a writer, so I'm a failure."  And I do have to say that I'm convicted by Proverbs 14:23.  I do a lot of talking about my writing, but how much am I doing with my writing?

But that verse doesn't say "...in only the HARDEST work there is profit."  It says, "In ALL work there is profit."  I'm doing what I can do with my writing at the moment, and trusting there will be more time for it later.  The question then is, "What WILL I do with it when I have the time?"  Will I do the work I need to do, or will I just continue to talk about it?

In the meantime, I'm not doing a lot of writing.  I'm doing a lot of working with kids.  I gotta say, sometimes, I'd rather be writing.  Right now, though, I have to trust that the work I am doing is going to lead to some kind of profit...hopefully monetary, so I can keep paying my bills, but it's more than that. 

The Lord has been teaching me a lot lately about different things.  He's teaching me how to praise Him in every circumstance, and how WE NEED to praise Him.  God desires our praise, but He also wants us to praise Him because we need to praise Him.  That's what we were designed to do--and I've noticed that when I'm praising Him, I just function better in general.  And so this stressful week has been really unexpectedly good.  I've worked my butt off (not quite literally, though I may have lost a little weight in that general area) this week.  I've had emotional ups and downs.  I've gotten some really nice paychecks that had to be put right back into expenses for my car.  I've taken opportunities to offer help to others, and I've had to be humble and ask for help for myself.  I've seen friends I haven't seen in months and even years.  I've talked a lot about what God has done and about what He is doing and what He will do.  I've failed.  I've succeeded.  I've ran and breathed and rested and hoped and prayed and dreamed and rejoiced and cried and worked and sang and LIVED. 

And I've realized again how much I really love my crazy, wild, wonderful life.

After all I've done against God, I don't deserve for the Lord to love me enough to test me and shape me.  But He does.  And He will continue to do so.  And I know in His timing that my life and my writing are going to become what He wants them to be.  I just have to wait for it and keep working and praying and resting in Him.  Talking is fine, but all work leads to profit...and I believe that to be both monetary and Spiritual profit. 

So I pray I work and worship and live this life He's given me.  If I'm doing the things I know I'm supposed to be doing, I don't believe He's going to lead me astray.

Fiction Friday: My Favorite Fictional Character Of All Time Ever

I had planned on blogging something about The Hunger Games today, but I've decided not to do so at this point.  Apparently, I've been living under a rock for the past few years and did not realize that such literary awesomeness existed.  Now that I've joined the rest of the cool readers and discovered this amazing book series, I'm anxiously (very anxiously) awaiting the next book in the series to be available at the library.  With that being said, 1) all the cool readers have already read all three books and have already posted their thoughts/feelings about said three books 2) I'd like to have read the whole series before writing anything about it.  So right now, I'm just going to say that the first book in the series, The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, absolutely blew my mind.  I can't wait to read what happens, but I'm going to have to wait, so I guess that technically, I CAN wait. 

Moving on now.

I've had the same favorite fictional character since I was  in elementary school.  Her name is Meg Murray, and if you haven't been introduced to her, then you're missing out on something amazing.  The first appearance of this extraordinary person can be found in my favorite fictional book, A Wrinkle in Time by one of my favorite authors (I can't decide if I like her or C. S. Lewis better--all right, we'll call it a draw!), Madeleine L'Engle.

A little side note here, just so everyone is aware.  If you've seen the movie/miniseries of A Wrinkle in Time that Disney put out a few years ago, please don't judge a book by its movie.  While I acknowledge that a lot of time and effort went into that movie, I have to say that it basically stunk.  I have it on dvd because my father bought it for me one Christmas, and I'll watch it occasionally because I like the music and because I want to relive parts of the story without taking the time to reread the book (although it would only take a few hours).  But please, if you have seen the movie and think it's horrible (because, well, it is), don't let that fool you.  The book is simply amazing.

Okay, moving on again.

What exactly is it that makes Meg Murray so extraordinary?  I think it's the fact that she isn't all that extraordinary.  In fact, she would consider herself less than even ordinary.  When Madeleine L'Engle first introduced Meg, she was a plain, self-conscious, unpopular, angry fourteen-year-old girl.  She had above-average intelligence (especially in math and science), but didn't do well in school.  Almost everyone misunderstood her, and she even misunderstood herself.

Basically, she was me (except I'm not that good in math and I actually did well in school--except for the math). 

Meg also had a little brother who didn't speak very much outside the home.  People picked on him and on Meg for having a strange younger brother.  I have to say that I could also relate to this pretty well, having a younger brother with high-functioning autism.  Today, autism is fairly well-known.  The diagnosis of autism is getting scarily common, but back in the mid-to-late 80's when my brother received his diagnosis, it was still a disorder that many people had never even heard of.  So people would ask me all the time what was wrong with my brother, and I had to try to explain it because no one knew what autism was.  And while I don't think a lot people actually picked on me because of my brother, I think I thought they were picking on me because I was a defensive, angry, overly-protective-of-my-little-brother kid--a lot like Meg Murray.

As I said in an earlier blog, there are many different reasons why people relate to characters.  Sometimes I don't understand why a character acts or thinks certain ways, and I find their behavior intriguing.  With Meg, it's not like that.  I do find her behavior intriguing, but that's because I understand her very well and think I would do things in the same ways. 

Meg is called to do things that she thinks are beyond her capability to do.  She doesn't do them without first throwing some literal tantrums, which I have been known to do even in adulthood.  All of her emotions are on the surface, especially the negative ones. 

But then she accepts her tasks with grace, she does what she has been given to do, and she succeeds. 

The most interesting thing about Meg's accomplishments is that she didn't have to change in order to do them.  She did have to change her attitude, but she herself didn't have to change.  The guides on her journey told her to keep her faults, even to stay angry.  This was something that I didn't fully grasp until I was probably almost an adult.

For years I didn't like who I was.  While I was NEVER a conformist, I know there were so many parts of myself I didn't like and wanted to change.  I wasn't as pretty or popular as I wanted to be.  I wasn't a people person.  I wasn't a natural leader.  And I used to think that I was basically useless because I had all these things I didn't like about myself.  I didn't think God could ever use someone like me.

I haven't really changed that much (I mean, I do consider myself pretty, but that's the vanity talking).  I'm still shy.  I'm still not a natural leader.  In fact, sometimes it's still a struggle to leave the apartment in the morning--because I know I'll have to deal with people.  But Meg is still with me.  I still see the person who was scared and angry, hurting and flawed. 

Madeleine L'Engle weaved a powerful story through Meg.  Meg's flaws didn't change; God used her anyway.  My current "life verse" from the Bible (that's always subject to change as stages in life are subject to change) is 1 Corinthians 1:27.  "For God has chosen the foolish things of this world to shame the wise; God has chosen the weak things of the world to shame the strong."  L'Engle used this verse in the story to encourage Meg.  It also encourages me. 

I'm not strong.  I'm not wise.  I'm nothing more than a weak fool that God has chosen to use anyway.  A lot of people say we're supposed to believe in ourselves.  I can't believe in myself.  There's not much there to believe in.  My worth is in Christ; my hope is in the Lord.  That's what I believe in.  When I look at Meg, I see someone who shines like the stars because of who she is in Jesus, even if L'Engle doesn't come right out and say Meg is a Christian.  It's implied.

In other stories in the series (and even in other stories L'Engle wrote that aren't directly connected to the "Time Quartet"), we see Meg grow and change.  She gets married and has kids of her own.  She still has some insecurities, but there's so much she accomplishes, so many people she helps.  And she started out as an awkward, self-conscious nobody.

God is in the business of using the weak and the foolish.  There's hope for all of us yet.

Out of my Mind

My mind is a pretty frightening place. I spend a lot of time there. It's practically unavoidable. I mean, I have to spend twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week with myself. It's not easy.

Lately, however, I've realized that I need to get away from myself occasionally. I've been trying to discipline myself as a writer, but, as I often do, I've put the cart before the horse. I can be disciplined as a writer, but I become unbalanced in other areas if I don't first try to be disciplined in more important things.

In this past year, I've completed one book that I started last year, finished the editing on another book that I started nine years ago *hides head in shame*, and somehow managed to begin and complete another book (in the period of slightly less than two weeks--an act of God, no doubt). I'm still doing some editing and writing. I'm attempting this query letter thing. I've been fairly disciplined in the writing stuff. I've also been disciplined in my diet/exercise and have consequently lost about 40 pounds since January of this year. I guess the world would look at me and say, "She's not doing too badly in the discipline department."

The thing is, I've not been disciplined in prayer or reading my Bible. As a Christian, these should be the most important disciplines in my life. The Lord has been gracious in dropping Spiritual crumbs to me, but there's a whole banquet that He's set out for me. I've just been too lazy to get up off the floor and eat.

For the past couple of weeks, I've tried to get into the habit of waking up a good hour earlier than usual for the sole purpose of spending time with God. One of the many positive results of this is that the Lord is showing me that I am far too self-focused. I'm an introspective person, which is good, because, well, I'm a writer. But spending too much time with oneself can lead to false perceptions.

The longer I look in the mirror, the more obsessed I come with my own reflection. The longer I look in the mirror, the longer I believe I'm something good. If all I do is glance at others, I fail to see their beauty. I become judgmental of their flaws, forgetting I have a fair few of my own.

As it relates to writing, sometimes I spend so much time reading and rereading what I've written that I absolutely fall in love with it. I lose all objectivity, because I forget there's anything out there besides the words that have come from my own brain.

This week, I've neglected the novel I've been editing. I've put aside any story ideas that want to pop up in my brain while I'm supposed to be doing something else. I've stopped obsessing about the characters in my stories. I'll get back to them eventually. For now, I'm reading other authors' writing. I am about to finish reading one novel and about to start another. And I'll probably read a few more before I'm finally ready to return to my own stories and my own brain.

And I'm not sure what I'll come back to when I finally do return. Maybe I'll come to find some minor flaws in my writing that I didn't see before. Maybe I'll realize my stories really are as good as thought they were (or--dare I think it--even better than I believed). Maybe I'll realize that there's a reason I keep getting rejections--that my writing sucks and I had better take up yodeling (or continue hold out hope for my crappy writing anyway, because, after all, Twilight got published--and did well).

Whatever happens, I'm grateful for the time that I'm spending out of my mind. I LOVE reading (I'd forgotten how much), and this is a great opportunity to get into some great literature.