It occurred to me just this morning that it's over halfway through September. The year is ever so gradually coming to a close. If you've been keeping up with my blogs for a while, you might know that I have a theme for each year that I choose from the Biblical Christmas story. This year's theme: "Do Not Be Afraid."
And what an interesting year it has been.
I had no idea how many lessons God would teach me, nor did I have an idea of how He would teach them. At the beginning of the year, I figured God would teach me how to be less fearful or something. I really didn't know what to expect. It's been a journey.
This year, I learned to let go of things I didn't know I could let go of, and I learned to embrace things I didn't know I could embrace. I've learned to say yes, and I've learned to say no. I've learned how to follow, and I've learned how to lead.
I've learned that sometimes you have to gather in faith. I've learned that sometimes God calls you to scatter in faith what He once had you gather. And it's good.
I've learned that when I am weak, He is strong. And you'd think I'd know that one by now. It's funny how we think we have things figured out all right, and then God shows us our pride in a completely different light. He is so faithful to show us our need, as well as His provision, and it's good.
I could list all of the various lessons, the various trials. I could list my victories and my failures and my insecurities. But, honestly, it's been done. If you've ever read my blog before, you should know I'm weak. You should know I'm insecure. You should know I'm fearful.
And maybe the most important thing I've learned this year, this year with the theme of "Do Not Be Afraid," is that it's okay. It's okay to be afraid.
Because all my life people have told me that it's not okay to be afraid. Because people say "don't be afraid," like it's something we actively have some minute amount of control over. They say, "If you fear, then the Bible says you haven't been perfected in love." They say, "Well, in the Bible God and His angels tell us over and over to not be afraid or He commands us to be strong and courageous, so we should never, ever be afraid."
But I have to wake up every morning and stare at the ceiling, facing the unknown. I have to walk outside the door of my house into the world, just praying I don't get too dizzy (due to my neck pain) that I pass out in the driveway. I have to start my car and hope that it actually starts and doesn't break down on the way to work. I have to go to work and deal with people who ever, ever threaten my insecurities. I have to go to social things, whatever they may be, that overstimulate me and threaten to cause anxiety attacks. I have to go to bed at night, staring at the ceiling again, facing the unknown.
I'm freakin' terrified.
And I think that I probably should be.
And I don't think anything is to be gained by pretending I don't have any fear.
Because I figure that overcoming fear and being perfected in love isn't a matter of just praying a prayer and being cured of fear forever and always. I figure being perfected always involves a process. I figure that being perfected in love means you choose love over fear in the millions of little every day issues and problems that arise. When someone hurts my feelings, instead of brooding in my insecurity, I can choose to love and forgive and remember that others have insecurities too. When I'm afraid to talk to someone because I don't know how much commitment that friendship might take, I can choose to risk it and love anyway.
And I figure I haven't been perfected in love. But I figure that I am currently being perfected in love. And I figure that One Day I'll be fearless, but I'm not there yet.
And I figure that if God and His angels repeated His commands "be strong and courageous" and "don't be afraid" over and over and over again, it's probably because we need the reminders. We need them constantly, and not because we're fearless. It's because we're naturally fearful. We can't just pretend that away. If we could pray a prayer or sprinkle magic holy dust on ourselves and be fearless forever and always, we wouldn't need the numerous reminders. God gives them to us because He knows we need them. We're fearful. We're ever so fearful.
And that's okay.
Because "not being afraid" isn't about willing myself to get over my hangups or willing myself to go do something that would normally scare me silly. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with taking risks, but risks should only be taken wisely.
And I'm not exactly talking about worldly wisdom.
Because the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom. And I'm still learning how to be afraid, but I figure the best way to be afraid is to fear God above anything else. Not in a way that we tremble before Him in constant trepidation--though we should. We absolutely should.
Because of who God is, we should tremble on our faces in utter terror.
But because of who God is, we don't have to.
Because fear has to do with punishment, but we're being perfected in love.
But when we fear God, we're accepting all He is. We're accepting all He's done for us. We're accepting that He is stronger than anything else that we could possibly fear. So what, then, is left to fear? Nothing, really.
But our minds don't fully grasp that, and, well, how could they?
So we still fear.
But He has left us His Word, and He has left us His Spirit. He didn't just tell us "be strong and courageous" and"do not be afraid," He tells us now. He tells us now because He is with us now.
So when I stare up at the ceiling, facing the unknown, I'm not facing it alone.
And I figure the only way to "be strong and courageous" is if we let Him be strong and courageous through us.
In the big things, in the little things, my fear is going to be real. My anxiety is going to be real. And maybe I'd like it if I could be that fearless person that everyone thinks I should be, but I'm not. I can't be. At the end of the day, all I can be is His. That's enough.
One of my favorite musicians, Mitch McVicker, put out a song on his last CD, Underneath, entitled "Danger." I'm posting it below, because it's all kinds of amazing.
If you're afraid, don't kid yourself. Nothing is really gained by that. But in your fear, don't forget that He's here, and He's patiently reminding you not to be afraid.
"Show me Your Love is more than what's dangerous.
Just let me know You're here,
And I'll be brave.
I swear."
Showing posts with label fear. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fear. Show all posts
Sunday, September 21, 2014
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Theories on "Listen" (Doctor Who)
I know I've written two Doctor Who themed posts in, oh, the past two days, but this shouldn't become the norm. I think. It's just that last night's episode of Doctor Who, "Listen" was extraordinary. It left the viewer with a lot of questions. Since this is actually the first time I'm experiencing new episodes of Doctor Who with the rest of the world (and not just playing catch up on the Netflix), it's pretty exciting to get to form theories and such. This shouldn't become the norm, and if it does, I'll create a separate blog for my nerd posts. :-D But for now, here it is.
The following absolutely contains spoilers, so don't read this unless you have seen the episode.
There are a couple of really obvious questions from last night's episode.
Question 1:
What in the name of Tom Baker's scarf was under that blanket?
As the Doctor pointed out, there were two possibilities for what was under the blanket. It was either just a kid playing a prank, or...it was something else.
Let me go ahead and say that it was not a child under that blanket, at least not a human child. I work with kids and know that even a really weird kid would probably not carry the prank out that far. After he/she had scared the others pretty well, he/she would have probably just thrown off the blanket and shouted "BOO!" A child, even a weird one, would probably NOT sit/stand there under the blanket acting all creepy for as long as that thing did.
Plus, we got a very fuzzy, distorted image of whatever was under the blanket, and it wasn't human--unless it was a human wearing a mask of some sort. If it was a kid wearing a mask, then running away kind of defeated the purpose. If it were a kid wearing a mask, then the kid would be wearing it to play a prank and scare people. Running away and slamming the door was a bit pointless.
So it wasn't a kid.
I have a couple of theories of what it might have been.
A Different Alien Theory:
First, I don't think it was the same creature the Doctor was looking for. The Doctor was looking for a creature that was a perfect hider, a creature that wanted, more than anything, to remain hidden. Now, he conjectured that these creatures might come out of hiding for children, the elderly, the mad, people whom no one would believe. That might explain why the creature was so bad at hiding if just Rupert were in the room, but that doesn't explain the creature's odd behavior if Clara and the Doctor were also present with Rupert.
Because if a creature were trying to remain hidden, why in the world would it noisily climb onto a bed and under the covers? It was unnecessarily revealing its presence, if not its appearance, and in a very obvious way. Why would the creature do that if it was a perfect hider? That doesn't make sense.
Now, it could be that this creature got overly curious--perhaps it was a child (just not a human one). It could be that this creature realized it had been discovered, and it got momentarily curious. Then it shied away at the last second and fled the room. That's entirely possible.
But I think it more possible that it was a different alien, one that was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Stranger things have happened on Doctor Who. This alien had been what originally scared young Rupert, whether intentionally or unintentionally. When Rupert got up, however, it scurried off to a corner or closet or something to hide. When Clara came in and climbed under the bed with Rupert (a little sketch, you think?), the alien tried to make a run for it. But if you remember, the Doctor also came into the room. The alien must have seen him coming (possibly already knowing the Doctor's reputation for being dangerous to unwelcome aliens on earth), and so it hid in the closest place he could find--under the covers. When it thought it safe to flee, it did.
It Was Clara: It was Clara. It was Clara the whole time. Isn't that what we learned? Perhaps Clara realized she had been the one scaring everyone all along. So she used the Tardis to go back to the children's home a few moments before she had originally arrived. She put on a mask, just in case she actually was seen. Then she sneaked into Rupert's room. She hid under his bed and made creepy noises. When Rupert stood up, she grabbed his ankle. While he was freaking out, she rushed off into hiding and waited until her former self came into the room and got under the bed. Then she climbed on the bed and under the covers.
So, Clara is the creature under your bed everyone. No need to fear anymore. She's like 5'2 and skinny. I think we could all manage to take her down.
All I know is, I'm going to be searching her apartment every time they show it from now on. I want to see if she's stashed Rupert's blanket somewhere.
Find the blanket, find the alien.
Question 2:
"What was knocking on the spaceship door?"
Sorry, everyone, but I don't buy the whole "the ship is just settling" or "the atmosphere around the ship is disturbed" or whatever nonsense the Doctor, Clara, and Orson were making up to make themselves feel better. There was something out there.
Well, the knocking on the spaceship door really reminded me of the Midnight episode. This was the seriously creepy episode where the 10th Doctor was riding on a bus with a bunch of strangers (and Merlin...?) to see the Sapphire Waterfalls. They were on the planet Midnight, which had a sun that emitted Xtonic radiation that would almost immediately kill every living thing. So they were apparently alone out in the middle of nowhere, since nothing could survive outside the bus. Well, the bus broke down, and something started knocking on the bus door. Then there was an explosion that killed the drivers, one of the passengers got possessed by an UNSEEN alien presence that mimicked voices. Then...it almost stole the 10th Doctor's voice.
"Listen! It's me!"
All turned out well, obviously, but the creature was never seen. There was never a good explanation for what that creature was, or of what it wanted.
Theory: The creature from "Midnight" was the same sort of creature the 12th Doctor was looking for in "Listen."
Imagine a race of creatures, I'll call them the Listeners. These creatures feed off the voices of others; they get their nourishment merely from listening to the words of other creatures. They aren't malevolent. They just want to survive and coexist with us. They are perfect hiders, and NOT the same creatures that grab ankles from under beds--those really are just nightmares/primal fears/Clara Oswalds. They're just Listeners.
I think it was a Listener who took the Doctor's chalk and wrote "Listen" on the chalkboard. It realized the Doctor was onto it, and decided to have a little bit of fun. Maybe Listening to the Doctor for so long had made it a bit quirky. I wonder if a Listener can get indigestion if it listens to the wrong kind of voice for too long...hmm. I digress.
Now, the creature the 10th Doctor encountered in Midnight was a little different. I think this creature was a criminal, by the standards of its own people. Perhaps it had gone insane. Instead of merely listening, this creature decided it wanted a voice of its own. It decided it wanted to master the voices of other beings instead of just passively listening and existing. It had probably tried to steal the voices of other beings before its kind stepped in and banished it into the wilderness of a planet where there was no possibility of life--where there were no voices for it to listen to. I think they left it there to die.
And I think these creatures take a very, very long time to starve to death.
Well, when the 12th Doctor was on that space ship, it was the end of time. There were supposedly no creatures left alive in the whole universe. The Listeners are obviously not typical life forms, however. They were still alive. And since there were no other beings in the entire universe for them to listen to, they were starving.
These creatures were not malevolent. They didn't mean any harm. But they were desperate for voices to listen to. That's why they knocked on the door. That's why they made themselves known. They desperately wanted inside that ship where there were voices--the last voices in the universe.
When the Doctor unlocked the door to the ship, and the creatures opened it, he didn't speak. He was too busy trying to hang on for dear life and not get sucked outside the ship to his death. The creatures still had nothing to listen to. When Orson pulled him back to safety inside the Tardis, the creatures were furious! They made all sorts of noise and tried to get inside, just starving to listen.
I'm not sure if these creatures are why we talk to ourselves or not, but I am no longer going to feel so crazy when I do talk to myself. I'm just feeding the Listeners. Hopefully,what I'm feeding them is something pleasant to the taste.
Meh. Voices probably taste like chicken.
So what are your theories about the creature(s) from "Listen"? Do you think we'll learn more about them in future episodes, or do you think Moffat will just keep us hanging? I think it's better sometimes not to know. Knowledge has a way of taking the fear out of something, and well, as Clara told the very young Doctor, "It's OK to be afraid. ...Fear makes companions of us all."
Let me know what you think. Maybe my next post will be less nerdy, but until then, Allons-y!
The following absolutely contains spoilers, so don't read this unless you have seen the episode.
There are a couple of really obvious questions from last night's episode.
Question 1:
What in the name of Tom Baker's scarf was under that blanket?
As the Doctor pointed out, there were two possibilities for what was under the blanket. It was either just a kid playing a prank, or...it was something else.
Let me go ahead and say that it was not a child under that blanket, at least not a human child. I work with kids and know that even a really weird kid would probably not carry the prank out that far. After he/she had scared the others pretty well, he/she would have probably just thrown off the blanket and shouted "BOO!" A child, even a weird one, would probably NOT sit/stand there under the blanket acting all creepy for as long as that thing did.
Plus, we got a very fuzzy, distorted image of whatever was under the blanket, and it wasn't human--unless it was a human wearing a mask of some sort. If it was a kid wearing a mask, then running away kind of defeated the purpose. If it were a kid wearing a mask, then the kid would be wearing it to play a prank and scare people. Running away and slamming the door was a bit pointless.
So it wasn't a kid.
I have a couple of theories of what it might have been.
A Different Alien Theory:
First, I don't think it was the same creature the Doctor was looking for. The Doctor was looking for a creature that was a perfect hider, a creature that wanted, more than anything, to remain hidden. Now, he conjectured that these creatures might come out of hiding for children, the elderly, the mad, people whom no one would believe. That might explain why the creature was so bad at hiding if just Rupert were in the room, but that doesn't explain the creature's odd behavior if Clara and the Doctor were also present with Rupert.
Because if a creature were trying to remain hidden, why in the world would it noisily climb onto a bed and under the covers? It was unnecessarily revealing its presence, if not its appearance, and in a very obvious way. Why would the creature do that if it was a perfect hider? That doesn't make sense.
Now, it could be that this creature got overly curious--perhaps it was a child (just not a human one). It could be that this creature realized it had been discovered, and it got momentarily curious. Then it shied away at the last second and fled the room. That's entirely possible.
But I think it more possible that it was a different alien, one that was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Stranger things have happened on Doctor Who. This alien had been what originally scared young Rupert, whether intentionally or unintentionally. When Rupert got up, however, it scurried off to a corner or closet or something to hide. When Clara came in and climbed under the bed with Rupert (a little sketch, you think?), the alien tried to make a run for it. But if you remember, the Doctor also came into the room. The alien must have seen him coming (possibly already knowing the Doctor's reputation for being dangerous to unwelcome aliens on earth), and so it hid in the closest place he could find--under the covers. When it thought it safe to flee, it did.
It Was Clara: It was Clara. It was Clara the whole time. Isn't that what we learned? Perhaps Clara realized she had been the one scaring everyone all along. So she used the Tardis to go back to the children's home a few moments before she had originally arrived. She put on a mask, just in case she actually was seen. Then she sneaked into Rupert's room. She hid under his bed and made creepy noises. When Rupert stood up, she grabbed his ankle. While he was freaking out, she rushed off into hiding and waited until her former self came into the room and got under the bed. Then she climbed on the bed and under the covers.
So, Clara is the creature under your bed everyone. No need to fear anymore. She's like 5'2 and skinny. I think we could all manage to take her down.
All I know is, I'm going to be searching her apartment every time they show it from now on. I want to see if she's stashed Rupert's blanket somewhere.
Find the blanket, find the alien.
Question 2:
"What was knocking on the spaceship door?"
Sorry, everyone, but I don't buy the whole "the ship is just settling" or "the atmosphere around the ship is disturbed" or whatever nonsense the Doctor, Clara, and Orson were making up to make themselves feel better. There was something out there.
Well, the knocking on the spaceship door really reminded me of the Midnight episode. This was the seriously creepy episode where the 10th Doctor was riding on a bus with a bunch of strangers (and Merlin...?) to see the Sapphire Waterfalls. They were on the planet Midnight, which had a sun that emitted Xtonic radiation that would almost immediately kill every living thing. So they were apparently alone out in the middle of nowhere, since nothing could survive outside the bus. Well, the bus broke down, and something started knocking on the bus door. Then there was an explosion that killed the drivers, one of the passengers got possessed by an UNSEEN alien presence that mimicked voices. Then...it almost stole the 10th Doctor's voice.
"Listen! It's me!"
All turned out well, obviously, but the creature was never seen. There was never a good explanation for what that creature was, or of what it wanted.
Theory: The creature from "Midnight" was the same sort of creature the 12th Doctor was looking for in "Listen."
Imagine a race of creatures, I'll call them the Listeners. These creatures feed off the voices of others; they get their nourishment merely from listening to the words of other creatures. They aren't malevolent. They just want to survive and coexist with us. They are perfect hiders, and NOT the same creatures that grab ankles from under beds--those really are just nightmares/primal fears/Clara Oswalds. They're just Listeners.
I think it was a Listener who took the Doctor's chalk and wrote "Listen" on the chalkboard. It realized the Doctor was onto it, and decided to have a little bit of fun. Maybe Listening to the Doctor for so long had made it a bit quirky. I wonder if a Listener can get indigestion if it listens to the wrong kind of voice for too long...hmm. I digress.
Now, the creature the 10th Doctor encountered in Midnight was a little different. I think this creature was a criminal, by the standards of its own people. Perhaps it had gone insane. Instead of merely listening, this creature decided it wanted a voice of its own. It decided it wanted to master the voices of other beings instead of just passively listening and existing. It had probably tried to steal the voices of other beings before its kind stepped in and banished it into the wilderness of a planet where there was no possibility of life--where there were no voices for it to listen to. I think they left it there to die.
And I think these creatures take a very, very long time to starve to death.
Well, when the 12th Doctor was on that space ship, it was the end of time. There were supposedly no creatures left alive in the whole universe. The Listeners are obviously not typical life forms, however. They were still alive. And since there were no other beings in the entire universe for them to listen to, they were starving.
These creatures were not malevolent. They didn't mean any harm. But they were desperate for voices to listen to. That's why they knocked on the door. That's why they made themselves known. They desperately wanted inside that ship where there were voices--the last voices in the universe.
When the Doctor unlocked the door to the ship, and the creatures opened it, he didn't speak. He was too busy trying to hang on for dear life and not get sucked outside the ship to his death. The creatures still had nothing to listen to. When Orson pulled him back to safety inside the Tardis, the creatures were furious! They made all sorts of noise and tried to get inside, just starving to listen.
I'm not sure if these creatures are why we talk to ourselves or not, but I am no longer going to feel so crazy when I do talk to myself. I'm just feeding the Listeners. Hopefully,what I'm feeding them is something pleasant to the taste.
Meh. Voices probably taste like chicken.
So what are your theories about the creature(s) from "Listen"? Do you think we'll learn more about them in future episodes, or do you think Moffat will just keep us hanging? I think it's better sometimes not to know. Knowledge has a way of taking the fear out of something, and well, as Clara told the very young Doctor, "It's OK to be afraid. ...Fear makes companions of us all."
Let me know what you think. Maybe my next post will be less nerdy, but until then, Allons-y!
Sunday, August 31, 2014
More Thoughts on Loving Leadership
Earlier this summer, I wrote a post entitled Loving Leadership, in which I shared some some things about leadership that I've learned in my experiences as both a leader and a follower.
But I've been thinking more about leadership lately, and I thought I'd follow up with another blog on loving leadership.
There's a popular children's game (or it used to be popular) called Follow the Leader. The game was simple. The leader would walk in front of a line of other children, and the followers would follow the leader around. Sometimes the followers would just walk in line behind the leader, and sometimes they would mimic the leaders actions.
With children's games like this, it's no wonder I grew up with an image in my head of a leader being someone who goes in front of others. And certainly, that is part of what a leader must do. A leader should go before the followers. A leader should either already know what's ahead or be the one to experience it first.
But I've been reading in Genesis lately, and I've realized there's another aspect of leadership. I noted this aspect through two bad examples of leadership.
In Genesis, in the beginning, God created everything. He made the earth and the skies, the sea and the land, the plants and all the animals. And He made Adam and Eve and put them in the Garden of Eden. They were allowed to eat from every tree except one.
It was never really clear how much time passed before Satan tempted Eve, and she ate of the fruit. They might have lived quite happily in that garden for centuries. They might not have lasted the week. Knowing sin and temptation like I do, I'm going to guess it was the latter.
So Eve ate the forbidden fruit and really messed things up for everyone. Thanks a lot, Eve. Humanity was cursed forever because you just had to eat the fruit.
But I have one question. Where was Adam?
Let's see if we can figure out where Adam was:
Gen. 3: 6 Then the woman saw that the tree was good for food and delightful to look at, and that it was desirable for obtaining wisdom. So she took some of its fruit and ate it; she also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it.
That's interesting. That's very interesting. According to Scripture, Adam was right there with Eve when she ate the fruit. I'm assuming that he was also there during the temptation.
And I'm not going to speculate too much on this, but I'm assuming also that Adam was already the established leader in the relationship. I do know that part of Eve's curse was that her husband rule over her, but I think a Godly sort of husband leadership was already in place before the Fall. If this was the case, then why didn't Adam speak up? Why didn't Adam protect his wife? Why didn't Adam stop her from doing what they both knew to be wrong?
He didn't do any of these things. Instead, he ate of the fruit when she gave it to him. He just ate it. And later, when they got caught, Adam started the finger pointing. He blamed Eve, and what's worse, he blamed God for giving Eve to him. But my question still stands. Where was Adam?
Because although Adam was right there with Eve, he wasn't present in the way that he needed to be. I do not discount Eve's grave sin; she was at fault. However, I would be so bold as to state that the greater sin was Adam's. He was the leader, and as the leader, he should have stood by what God had commanded. He should have protected his wife. Instead, he went along with whatever she said, and thus, humanity was cursed with sin and all its wages.
This isn't Scripture, but I really like something John Milton wrote in Paradise Lost. When God questioned Adam for his sin, and Adam blamed Eve, God had an interesting response:
"Was she thy god?"
Was she? Perhaps so. For instead of following God's leadership, instead of being the godly leader that he should have been, he just went along with Eve's sin.
I have another example from Genesis, also involving a husband and a wife.
In Genesis 19, we have the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. We also have an unusual case of a lady, identified only as Lot's wife, who was turned into a pillar of salt after turning back to look at the doomed cities. The angels had warned them not to look back. But Lot's wife did, and she was also destroyed.
But my question here is similar to the one I asked in the Genesis 19 account. Where was Lot?
Genesis 19:23-26
23 The sun had risen over the land when Lot reached Zoar. 24 Then out of the sky the Lord rained burning sulfur on Sodom and Gomorrah from the Lord. 25 He demolished these cities, the entire plain, all the inhabitants of the cities, and whatever grew on the ground.26 But his wife looked back and became a pillar of salt.
Now, it's not clear exactly where Lot was when his wife looked back, but one thing is abundantly clear from the entire account of Lot's escape from Sodom. He was terrified. He didn't want to leave; the angels had to drag him and his family along. He didn't want to flee to the mountains, but instead pleaded to be allowed to run to the small town of Zoar. And after his wife became the first Morton's girl (yes, I went there), he took his daughters off to the mountains, after all, because it turned out that he was also afraid to live in Zoar. And that's when things got disgusting all over again, but I digress.
But I've been thinking more about leadership lately, and I thought I'd follow up with another blog on loving leadership.
There's a popular children's game (or it used to be popular) called Follow the Leader. The game was simple. The leader would walk in front of a line of other children, and the followers would follow the leader around. Sometimes the followers would just walk in line behind the leader, and sometimes they would mimic the leaders actions.
With children's games like this, it's no wonder I grew up with an image in my head of a leader being someone who goes in front of others. And certainly, that is part of what a leader must do. A leader should go before the followers. A leader should either already know what's ahead or be the one to experience it first.
But I've been reading in Genesis lately, and I've realized there's another aspect of leadership. I noted this aspect through two bad examples of leadership.
In Genesis, in the beginning, God created everything. He made the earth and the skies, the sea and the land, the plants and all the animals. And He made Adam and Eve and put them in the Garden of Eden. They were allowed to eat from every tree except one.
It was never really clear how much time passed before Satan tempted Eve, and she ate of the fruit. They might have lived quite happily in that garden for centuries. They might not have lasted the week. Knowing sin and temptation like I do, I'm going to guess it was the latter.
So Eve ate the forbidden fruit and really messed things up for everyone. Thanks a lot, Eve. Humanity was cursed forever because you just had to eat the fruit.
But I have one question. Where was Adam?
Let's see if we can figure out where Adam was:
Gen. 3: 6 Then the woman saw that the tree was good for food and delightful to look at, and that it was desirable for obtaining wisdom. So she took some of its fruit and ate it; she also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it.
That's interesting. That's very interesting. According to Scripture, Adam was right there with Eve when she ate the fruit. I'm assuming that he was also there during the temptation.
And I'm not going to speculate too much on this, but I'm assuming also that Adam was already the established leader in the relationship. I do know that part of Eve's curse was that her husband rule over her, but I think a Godly sort of husband leadership was already in place before the Fall. If this was the case, then why didn't Adam speak up? Why didn't Adam protect his wife? Why didn't Adam stop her from doing what they both knew to be wrong?
He didn't do any of these things. Instead, he ate of the fruit when she gave it to him. He just ate it. And later, when they got caught, Adam started the finger pointing. He blamed Eve, and what's worse, he blamed God for giving Eve to him. But my question still stands. Where was Adam?
Because although Adam was right there with Eve, he wasn't present in the way that he needed to be. I do not discount Eve's grave sin; she was at fault. However, I would be so bold as to state that the greater sin was Adam's. He was the leader, and as the leader, he should have stood by what God had commanded. He should have protected his wife. Instead, he went along with whatever she said, and thus, humanity was cursed with sin and all its wages.
This isn't Scripture, but I really like something John Milton wrote in Paradise Lost. When God questioned Adam for his sin, and Adam blamed Eve, God had an interesting response:
"Was she thy god?"
Was she? Perhaps so. For instead of following God's leadership, instead of being the godly leader that he should have been, he just went along with Eve's sin.
I have another example from Genesis, also involving a husband and a wife.
In Genesis 19, we have the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. We also have an unusual case of a lady, identified only as Lot's wife, who was turned into a pillar of salt after turning back to look at the doomed cities. The angels had warned them not to look back. But Lot's wife did, and she was also destroyed.
But my question here is similar to the one I asked in the Genesis 19 account. Where was Lot?
Genesis 19:23-26
23 The sun had risen over the land when Lot reached Zoar. 24 Then out of the sky the Lord rained burning sulfur on Sodom and Gomorrah from the Lord. 25 He demolished these cities, the entire plain, all the inhabitants of the cities, and whatever grew on the ground.26 But his wife looked back and became a pillar of salt.
Now, it's not clear exactly where Lot was when his wife looked back, but one thing is abundantly clear from the entire account of Lot's escape from Sodom. He was terrified. He didn't want to leave; the angels had to drag him and his family along. He didn't want to flee to the mountains, but instead pleaded to be allowed to run to the small town of Zoar. And after his wife became the first Morton's girl (yes, I went there), he took his daughters off to the mountains, after all, because it turned out that he was also afraid to live in Zoar. And that's when things got disgusting all over again, but I digress.
See, I think it can be assumed that Lot was running ahead of his wife. It sounds as though he just might have reached the city before she did. I think it can be assumed that he wasn't running with her, nor was he running ahead of her as to lead her, but he was running ahead to save his own skin. And, again, I'm assuming much here, but I think it's reasonable to say that Lot's wife might not have looked back if Lot had been with her. Had he been leading her out of love, running with her, she might have survived the flight from Sodom. As a result, she might have been there to guide her daughters to make better choices. The Moabites and Ammonites (born of the incestuous relationships between Lot and his daughters) might never have existed to cause strife with Israel. A lot of sin might have been prevented if one man might have been less fearful for his own sake, and more concerned for the welfare of his family members.
Sometimes, a leader has to walk on ahead, go on before, to lead the way. It's much like in those silly childhood games of follow the leader. But I'm learning that a good leader sometimes leads in a much different way. Instead of walking on before, sometimes the best leader will come along beside. Because we're not children playing silly games anymore, and I've learned that people are more likely to follow well when the leader is able and willing to come down and meet them where they are.
I have one other example of a leader, but this is a good example.
When Jesus called his disciples, they came. They left their fishing boats and nets and family members and they came. Immediately. When Jesus called Matthew, a tax collector and sinner, he came. Why? Why would these men follow Jesus just because he told them to follow?
Because Jesus wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty. He wasn't afraid to dine with those tax collectors and sinners. He wasn't afraid of what others might think or even of what others might do. He came along others and met them at their point of need.
If anyone had any right to point fingers, it would have been Jesus. If anyone had any right to save his own skin, it would have been Jesus. But Jesus didn't flee from pain and death. Jesus didn't pass blame. Jesus loved. And people followed him. People still do. I certainly try to.
And I know I'm still learning to be a leader. Shoot, I'm still learning to be a follower. But I know I've got to be humble and accept my own weaknesses. I know that I have to trust beyond all my fears.
It's hard to follow. It's hard to lead. It's even harder to do both at the same time. But I think a person has to learn to do both in order to be really good at either. We need to trust God to come along side us as well as learn to come along side others. We need to be humble as well as confident that the One who gave us our leadership abilities and positions is guiding us as we lead. We need not to point fingers. We need not to be afraid.
We need to follow the Leader, and we need to trust Him as He leads us to lead.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
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 inSunday 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.
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
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.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
SEW Sunday: Life
(SEW Sundays are posts where I rant about discuss what's going on with the queries I am SENDING to agents, my EDITING, and my WRITING...among other things....)
My fingers hurt. It's not because I've been typing too much. It's because I just spent about an hour and a half playing guitar. I like Sunday afternoons because I usually set aside a good chunk of time just for this purpose. I could be napping, but when I nap on Sunday afternoons, I tend to go into a mini coma and not wake up until the "wee hours" of Monday morning. So to avoid throwing off my sleep schedule for the entire week, I play the guitar when most people take naps.
I wrote music for two songs over the past month. I'm working on the music for two more. Originally, I was just planning on working on one musical project. If things keep going the way they've been going, then I might have two musical projects in mind. We'll see what happens. I'm very excited about it--though also very scared. That's ironic, because one of the projects I'm thinking of has to do with the theme of fear. But I did talk briefly with a very nice man who might be able to record my project(s), and that was extremely encouraging . There are a lot of little (and big) details to work out, but I'm confident this is going to happen.
As far as the writing goes, I'm still waiting on a few things. I traded manuscripts with a fellow writer friend today. That's always a little scary, but in the long run I really think she's going to be able to help me progress in this "getting published" journey. I've been stuck for so long that I really think I've needed a push. So hopefully this is it.
I know I keep saying a lot of the same things over and over in these posts. It's because I need reminders. I need the reminders that while waiting is hard, it's part of the journey on which God is leading me. While I'm waiting, there are a lot of things to be doing, a lot of life to be living. What I do now as an unpublished writer is just as important as the things I will do when I become a published writer (and I'm confident that I will become one, one way or another). I get in this mindset so many times that life isn't happening until I achieve some kind of goal or dream. The truth is, life is right now. Life is every day. Life is getting out of bed in the morning and going for a run, or going to work, or just sitting down with a cup of coffee and enjoying the beauty of the world around me.
Thank you if you're one of the ones who consistently reads this and consistently prays for me and this path God's given me to walk. I know it's frustrating to have to wait for anything, and a lot of people have expressed that they really want to be able to read my books in print (most of them want free signed copies--I don't know about the free part, but I'll sign it for free, if that helps!). I know I've said this on this blog before, but I'm going to say it again. No matter how frustrated you are in waiting, I'm even more so. And I've been apathetic for a while because I get so discouraged. But I sense that apathy melting away. I'm starting to figuratively breathe more deeply, wanting to take in as much life as possible. And part of that means I'm going to start working towards my dreams again. If they're God-given dreams, then they're not really in my hands, so I can't be afraid. Not really.
It's really amazing what God's doing in me right now. It's been such a process. I can't explain it very well--just that I'm changing. He's being faithful to strip away a lot of things that have kept me from being as free as He's wanted me to be. Fear is one of those things. I'm learning. It's still a process. I call it the process of perfection--it will only be completed when I do move past the poor reflection in the mirror and see Him face to face. In the meantime, there's this life He's graciously given me.
My fingers hurt. It's not because I've been typing too much. It's because I just spent about an hour and a half playing guitar. I like Sunday afternoons because I usually set aside a good chunk of time just for this purpose. I could be napping, but when I nap on Sunday afternoons, I tend to go into a mini coma and not wake up until the "wee hours" of Monday morning. So to avoid throwing off my sleep schedule for the entire week, I play the guitar when most people take naps.
I wrote music for two songs over the past month. I'm working on the music for two more. Originally, I was just planning on working on one musical project. If things keep going the way they've been going, then I might have two musical projects in mind. We'll see what happens. I'm very excited about it--though also very scared. That's ironic, because one of the projects I'm thinking of has to do with the theme of fear. But I did talk briefly with a very nice man who might be able to record my project(s), and that was extremely encouraging . There are a lot of little (and big) details to work out, but I'm confident this is going to happen.
As far as the writing goes, I'm still waiting on a few things. I traded manuscripts with a fellow writer friend today. That's always a little scary, but in the long run I really think she's going to be able to help me progress in this "getting published" journey. I've been stuck for so long that I really think I've needed a push. So hopefully this is it.
I know I keep saying a lot of the same things over and over in these posts. It's because I need reminders. I need the reminders that while waiting is hard, it's part of the journey on which God is leading me. While I'm waiting, there are a lot of things to be doing, a lot of life to be living. What I do now as an unpublished writer is just as important as the things I will do when I become a published writer (and I'm confident that I will become one, one way or another). I get in this mindset so many times that life isn't happening until I achieve some kind of goal or dream. The truth is, life is right now. Life is every day. Life is getting out of bed in the morning and going for a run, or going to work, or just sitting down with a cup of coffee and enjoying the beauty of the world around me.
Thank you if you're one of the ones who consistently reads this and consistently prays for me and this path God's given me to walk. I know it's frustrating to have to wait for anything, and a lot of people have expressed that they really want to be able to read my books in print (most of them want free signed copies--I don't know about the free part, but I'll sign it for free, if that helps!). I know I've said this on this blog before, but I'm going to say it again. No matter how frustrated you are in waiting, I'm even more so. And I've been apathetic for a while because I get so discouraged. But I sense that apathy melting away. I'm starting to figuratively breathe more deeply, wanting to take in as much life as possible. And part of that means I'm going to start working towards my dreams again. If they're God-given dreams, then they're not really in my hands, so I can't be afraid. Not really.
It's really amazing what God's doing in me right now. It's been such a process. I can't explain it very well--just that I'm changing. He's being faithful to strip away a lot of things that have kept me from being as free as He's wanted me to be. Fear is one of those things. I'm learning. It's still a process. I call it the process of perfection--it will only be completed when I do move past the poor reflection in the mirror and see Him face to face. In the meantime, there's this life He's graciously given me.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
SEW Sunday: Priorities...and Being Afraid
Gonna come right out and say that I'm calling it quits (for now) on my current writing project. It was sick and dying from the beginning, and just gradually got sicker and sicker. It tried fighting for life there at the end, but then it died to death. And I just don't have time to try to pick up the pieces and try to salvage anything from it right now.
And I have stuff I REALLY should be doing in regards to preparing queries. I have more than enough projects that require massive amounts of editing. Writing new stuff just seems kind of silly at the moment.
After going out of town last weekend, I have had a killer time trying to get back on track. I feel as though I really didn't even get a break, and I guess that's okay. I've been trying to learn how to live life as it comes...because like it or not, it's not just going to pause for me to get my act together. And lately I've been a lot more scatterbrained than usual. I've been forgetting events and telling people I can do things when I've already told other people I can do other things at the same time. Ugh.
My preschool job ends next week (for the summer), and while I'm going to miss "my" kids SOOOOO much, I'm actually looking forward to only having two jobs for a while. Part of me wants to consider looking for just one full time job after this summer--but I'm not actually considering it yet. I'm just considering considering it. If that makes sense. If it doesn't make sense, don't worry. My life doesn't make too much sense at the moment...
I have got to learn to prioritize. That's why the current writing project is getting nixed (for now--maybe for always. Who knows?). I've been saying, "Oh, I have to get this synopsis done. I've got to send out queries." I haven't done that. I haven't done it--not because I don't HAVE the time, but because I haven't MADE the time to do it.
My other priority right now? Working on this cd idea I have. I need to practice my guitar a lot more than I have been doing. I need to buck up the courage to actually call and/or email the guy at my church about the possibilty of recording the cd. I need to coordinate time with my roommate (who is an amazing violinist) to work on some violin harmonies for some of my songs. I need to. I need to. I need to.
I need to make this cd happen.
It amazes me how God is showing me that it's the right time to do this. I have wanted to put out a cd for such a long time. I've never felt good/strong/courageous/talented/cool enough to do such a thing. In the past few weeks, so many random people have told me that they love my voice. So many people have encouraged me. It's not even my voice that I want to get out there. As Mitch McVicker (an uber talented Christian musician and super nice guy) has said, and I paraphrase, "The world doesn't need more Christian music or Christian musicians. But the world needs truth, and I've been given this to do. I'm just trying to be faithful with what I've been given."
That's kind of how I'm thinking. It's not that I have anything brilliant to say, but the fact is, I've said it anyway. I've put words down to music. But they're not doing a bit of good at the moment. I'm tired of keeping all these songs and all these words hoarded up inside the four walls of my room. While there's nothing new under the sun, I still think there's something worthwhile in sharing something that God's given me. And if I donate a portion (or all) of the proceeds from the sales of this cd, then there's something worthwhile in that, too.
Here's the problem.
I'm such a scared little kid. I have given up on the idea that that's ever going to change. For a while, I could pretend. I could be braver. I could be more confident. I could be more lovable. I could be more interesting or suave or beautiful or whatever. ...only, it wouldn't be who I am. And I learned a long time ago that if I try to be something I'm not, then sooner or later (usually sooner), whatever false foundation I built under myself is going to crumble. God won't let me pretend, and for that, I'm VERY grateful.
The truth is, I'm weak. I am scared to death. I like safe things that I understand, like work and routine. I don't like stepping out in faith and doing things when I don't know how to do them and when I don't know what's going to happen. What am I really afraid of? That people are going to look down on me. That people are going to see me for what I am. That my slip is going to show, and the whole facade of beauty and "put-togetherness" and strong, confident woman (HEAR ME ROAR) is going to crumble.
But I'm already weak. And I'm not more lovable. I'm not more confident. I'm not more "put together." I know I keep repeating myself on this, but it's something that takes awhile to get through my head. And I think other people need it, too. So I'll keep repeating it:
The only hope for a weak fool like me is that God delights in using the weak and foolish to shame the strong and wise. And I am not going to be more lovable or beautiful, but that's okay. Because God's love is so much more powerful than my unlovableness.
I fear man instead of God. God knows it, and that's one of the reasons He's really encouraging me to do step out and do this scary cd thing right now. Quite honestly, I'm terrified, because it's a big deal to me to do something like this--just like the query letters terrify me. But I'm getting to that remarkable point where I'm more terrified of disobeying God and missing out on what He has for me than of the things that terrify me.
...and the thing is, I'm still learning just how to be afraid...
And I have stuff I REALLY should be doing in regards to preparing queries. I have more than enough projects that require massive amounts of editing. Writing new stuff just seems kind of silly at the moment.
After going out of town last weekend, I have had a killer time trying to get back on track. I feel as though I really didn't even get a break, and I guess that's okay. I've been trying to learn how to live life as it comes...because like it or not, it's not just going to pause for me to get my act together. And lately I've been a lot more scatterbrained than usual. I've been forgetting events and telling people I can do things when I've already told other people I can do other things at the same time. Ugh.
My preschool job ends next week (for the summer), and while I'm going to miss "my" kids SOOOOO much, I'm actually looking forward to only having two jobs for a while. Part of me wants to consider looking for just one full time job after this summer--but I'm not actually considering it yet. I'm just considering considering it. If that makes sense. If it doesn't make sense, don't worry. My life doesn't make too much sense at the moment...
I have got to learn to prioritize. That's why the current writing project is getting nixed (for now--maybe for always. Who knows?). I've been saying, "Oh, I have to get this synopsis done. I've got to send out queries." I haven't done that. I haven't done it--not because I don't HAVE the time, but because I haven't MADE the time to do it.
My other priority right now? Working on this cd idea I have. I need to practice my guitar a lot more than I have been doing. I need to buck up the courage to actually call and/or email the guy at my church about the possibilty of recording the cd. I need to coordinate time with my roommate (who is an amazing violinist) to work on some violin harmonies for some of my songs. I need to. I need to. I need to.
I need to make this cd happen.
It amazes me how God is showing me that it's the right time to do this. I have wanted to put out a cd for such a long time. I've never felt good/strong/courageous/talented/cool enough to do such a thing. In the past few weeks, so many random people have told me that they love my voice. So many people have encouraged me. It's not even my voice that I want to get out there. As Mitch McVicker (an uber talented Christian musician and super nice guy) has said, and I paraphrase, "The world doesn't need more Christian music or Christian musicians. But the world needs truth, and I've been given this to do. I'm just trying to be faithful with what I've been given."
That's kind of how I'm thinking. It's not that I have anything brilliant to say, but the fact is, I've said it anyway. I've put words down to music. But they're not doing a bit of good at the moment. I'm tired of keeping all these songs and all these words hoarded up inside the four walls of my room. While there's nothing new under the sun, I still think there's something worthwhile in sharing something that God's given me. And if I donate a portion (or all) of the proceeds from the sales of this cd, then there's something worthwhile in that, too.
Here's the problem.
I'm such a scared little kid. I have given up on the idea that that's ever going to change. For a while, I could pretend. I could be braver. I could be more confident. I could be more lovable. I could be more interesting or suave or beautiful or whatever. ...only, it wouldn't be who I am. And I learned a long time ago that if I try to be something I'm not, then sooner or later (usually sooner), whatever false foundation I built under myself is going to crumble. God won't let me pretend, and for that, I'm VERY grateful.
The truth is, I'm weak. I am scared to death. I like safe things that I understand, like work and routine. I don't like stepping out in faith and doing things when I don't know how to do them and when I don't know what's going to happen. What am I really afraid of? That people are going to look down on me. That people are going to see me for what I am. That my slip is going to show, and the whole facade of beauty and "put-togetherness" and strong, confident woman (HEAR ME ROAR) is going to crumble.
But I'm already weak. And I'm not more lovable. I'm not more confident. I'm not more "put together." I know I keep repeating myself on this, but it's something that takes awhile to get through my head. And I think other people need it, too. So I'll keep repeating it:
The only hope for a weak fool like me is that God delights in using the weak and foolish to shame the strong and wise. And I am not going to be more lovable or beautiful, but that's okay. Because God's love is so much more powerful than my unlovableness.
I fear man instead of God. God knows it, and that's one of the reasons He's really encouraging me to do step out and do this scary cd thing right now. Quite honestly, I'm terrified, because it's a big deal to me to do something like this--just like the query letters terrify me. But I'm getting to that remarkable point where I'm more terrified of disobeying God and missing out on what He has for me than of the things that terrify me.
...and the thing is, I'm still learning just how to be afraid...
Monday, May 16, 2011
SEW Monday?!?!
I'm updating on a Monday, which I usually don't do, but I just got back from my weekend trip to KY, and I kind of just want to type for a bit to get it out of my system.
I don't promise that the sentence above will be my only run-on sentence in this blog post. Be kind. I was on the road 10+ hours today with only a few Dragons to keep me company. Okay, so I did go visit with a wonderful friend and her little girl, but it was mostly just me and the Dragons. And some Mitch McVicker cds.
He writes/plays/sings the best driving music.
Turns out, I write some decent songs myself...though most of them aren't good driving music (they're better, uh...sleeping music). Now, they're not Mitch McVicker quality, by any means. My guitar playing lacks, er, shall we say...mad skills. And my insane operatic vibrato doesn't really make for excellent easy listening music. But I've been wanting to put out a cd for over a decade. I was afraid to do it before, and really, I don't think I was ready. I think I am now. I've written some good songs. The Lord has given me the desire to raise some money for a specific cause, and he's given me just enough talent to perhaps be able to do that.
And the mountain roads are the best places in the world to clear your head, make some decisions...
...and I think it's time. I've got a business card from a guy who can maybe help me record my songs (hopefully for free). I've got some friends who can help me with some photos and maybe even some graphic design (again, hopefully for free). I'd like to get a cd out fairly soon and donate most of the proceeds (if not all of them...I might have some production expenses even if I get lots of freebies). This is an idea I've had for about six months, and I'm thinking that it's about high time that THUNDERCATS ARE GO!
I wrote a few poems this weekend, but otherwise I've had little time for writing. I'm hoping to get back into the swing of things this week--or maybe next week. My head still feels all buzzy and fuzzy from driving all day. As for the querying--hopefully that will start up again soon, too. I really think my main focus needs to be on this musical project, though. And it still counts as writing since it's all original work. So there.
I have a feeling I'm going to be off all week and think that tomorrow is Monday instead of Tuesday, so hopefully I will get back to my poor semblance of a blogging schedule by Wednesday.
I miss the mountains.
I don't promise that the sentence above will be my only run-on sentence in this blog post. Be kind. I was on the road 10+ hours today with only a few Dragons to keep me company. Okay, so I did go visit with a wonderful friend and her little girl, but it was mostly just me and the Dragons. And some Mitch McVicker cds.
He writes/plays/sings the best driving music.
Turns out, I write some decent songs myself...though most of them aren't good driving music (they're better, uh...sleeping music). Now, they're not Mitch McVicker quality, by any means. My guitar playing lacks, er, shall we say...mad skills. And my insane operatic vibrato doesn't really make for excellent easy listening music. But I've been wanting to put out a cd for over a decade. I was afraid to do it before, and really, I don't think I was ready. I think I am now. I've written some good songs. The Lord has given me the desire to raise some money for a specific cause, and he's given me just enough talent to perhaps be able to do that.
And the mountain roads are the best places in the world to clear your head, make some decisions...
...and I think it's time. I've got a business card from a guy who can maybe help me record my songs (hopefully for free). I've got some friends who can help me with some photos and maybe even some graphic design (again, hopefully for free). I'd like to get a cd out fairly soon and donate most of the proceeds (if not all of them...I might have some production expenses even if I get lots of freebies). This is an idea I've had for about six months, and I'm thinking that it's about high time that THUNDERCATS ARE GO!
I wrote a few poems this weekend, but otherwise I've had little time for writing. I'm hoping to get back into the swing of things this week--or maybe next week. My head still feels all buzzy and fuzzy from driving all day. As for the querying--hopefully that will start up again soon, too. I really think my main focus needs to be on this musical project, though. And it still counts as writing since it's all original work. So there.
I have a feeling I'm going to be off all week and think that tomorrow is Monday instead of Tuesday, so hopefully I will get back to my poor semblance of a blogging schedule by Wednesday.
I miss the mountains.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
SEW Sunday: Editing As Death and Rebirth
So, I've come to the conclusion that one of the main reasons I kind of mentally, emotionally, and in all other ways shut down on trying to find a literary agent in February was because I didn't want to do something that I knew (in the back of my mind) really needed to be done. I fought against it for a while, then just decided I would sweep it under the rug and not think about it.
Last week, I mentioned that I reread my first book and LOVED it, but I knew there needed to be one DRASTIC change. That change has been made, which was hard for me, but it wasn't as hard as I thought.
I killed my prologue.
It's a YA fantasy, this book. For the past DECADE that I've been working on it, it has always had a prologue. I've always imagined it with a prologue. The prologue was an integral part, not only of the story, but also of my image of what my introduction to the realm of being published author would look like. I wanted the first thing people read by A. R. Campbell to be THAT prologue. The first two words of that prologue were the first two words I wanted for my book...sigh...
But people, particularly agents, seem to not like prologues anymore. I read more than one anti-prologue blog from agents I respect. I'd read other agent interviews where other agents I respect discussed their hatred of prologues. Agents know (at least a lot better than most people) what readers and publishers like. Apparently, readers and publishers don't like prologues, either. And I could see how I could easily incorporate my prologue into my story. It wasn't that I didn't want to do the actual work (although, let's face it, I hate work). My problem was that I didn't want to kill my prologue...because I loved it.
So it took me three months of pouting to finally get to the point where I was ready. Friday, I had a day off. I went out for a run. I did some shopping. I did some cleaning. I delayed and delayed the inevitable. Then I finally sat down at my computer and did the necessary editing, the necessary changes.
And I deleted the first three pages of my book. The pages with the prologue.
I wish I hadn't pouted for so long, because as it turns out, I was able to reproduce much of the prologue, verbatim, within the structure of the story. The prologue died, yes, but it was reborn into something that actually made more sense within the plot. I had to tweak a few things. There are still some things I will have to check and double-check (editing is hard, yo). But, for the most part, it's done. And my book is better for it.
The prologue is dead. I mourn it, but all is not lost.
Okay, so that sounded REALLY dramatic and cheesy, but what do you expect? I'm a writer....
As for writing, I'm still working on my current project. I still don't like it, but I think I've made a small breakthrough in what I want to do with it all. Some of my test readers are encouraging me to continue, so I'm trying to appease them, but I have to admit I'm really tempted to just shut the project down for a while and concentrate on the querying and editing aspects of my writing.
I still have a lot to do before I'm ready to start sending queries again. I need to do some more agent research. I need to perfect a synopsis. I need to write and edit some outlines. I also need to do some minor edits to the actual story.
I also want to start seriously working on a musical project--a collection of songs. I'm not sure how well that's going to work, but I think it's worth a shot right now.
And then there's another rough draft of a project that I want to eventually try to sell. It needs serious editing, and now I think I've distanced myself from it enough to be ready for that editing.
Honestly, I hate hate hate editing. It makes me see what isn't good about what I've done and forces me to destroy my previous work, some of which took me a LONG time to develop. I've made an investment in these things that I once thought were amazing, only to find that they often don't even pass the level of mediocrity. So I have to destroy what I once built, only to try to build it up better the second time. Then the third time. Then the fourth time. As long as it takes...
Being a writer has given me some small glimpses into what it must be like to be God. Only I'm not as patient as He is. How many times has He had to tear us down so that He could rebuild us? Only it's not His fault we're imperfect...we're the ones who mess up our own lives...because we try to be what we can't be. We try to be Him.
I can't be God. I can just be a writer, and editing forces me to realize that I'm just not as brilliant as I sometimes imagine myself to be. As discouraging as all that sounds, I have to say that I really have been encouraged this week. I've been reminded about how much I really do love my life and the opportunities God has given me. I know that He's in control, so I really don't have anything to fear.
There's still a lot of work to be done, but I've got to be honest--getting rid of my prologue was a HUGE step in this journey towards getting published. It's gotten me back on track to do the things that I know I still need to do. I'm not there yet, but I know where I want to go.
Now I just have to do the work it will take me to get there.
Have I mentioned that I'm really glad I'm not God. I mean, seriously. I would have forgotten to make gravity, and then where would we all be? But He's the Author AND the Perfecter. When I really thing about it, I have nothing to fear.
...hee hee. Bion is going to be working overtime.
Last week, I mentioned that I reread my first book and LOVED it, but I knew there needed to be one DRASTIC change. That change has been made, which was hard for me, but it wasn't as hard as I thought.
I killed my prologue.
It's a YA fantasy, this book. For the past DECADE that I've been working on it, it has always had a prologue. I've always imagined it with a prologue. The prologue was an integral part, not only of the story, but also of my image of what my introduction to the realm of being published author would look like. I wanted the first thing people read by A. R. Campbell to be THAT prologue. The first two words of that prologue were the first two words I wanted for my book...sigh...
But people, particularly agents, seem to not like prologues anymore. I read more than one anti-prologue blog from agents I respect. I'd read other agent interviews where other agents I respect discussed their hatred of prologues. Agents know (at least a lot better than most people) what readers and publishers like. Apparently, readers and publishers don't like prologues, either. And I could see how I could easily incorporate my prologue into my story. It wasn't that I didn't want to do the actual work (although, let's face it, I hate work). My problem was that I didn't want to kill my prologue...because I loved it.
So it took me three months of pouting to finally get to the point where I was ready. Friday, I had a day off. I went out for a run. I did some shopping. I did some cleaning. I delayed and delayed the inevitable. Then I finally sat down at my computer and did the necessary editing, the necessary changes.
And I deleted the first three pages of my book. The pages with the prologue.
I wish I hadn't pouted for so long, because as it turns out, I was able to reproduce much of the prologue, verbatim, within the structure of the story. The prologue died, yes, but it was reborn into something that actually made more sense within the plot. I had to tweak a few things. There are still some things I will have to check and double-check (editing is hard, yo). But, for the most part, it's done. And my book is better for it.
The prologue is dead. I mourn it, but all is not lost.
Okay, so that sounded REALLY dramatic and cheesy, but what do you expect? I'm a writer....
As for writing, I'm still working on my current project. I still don't like it, but I think I've made a small breakthrough in what I want to do with it all. Some of my test readers are encouraging me to continue, so I'm trying to appease them, but I have to admit I'm really tempted to just shut the project down for a while and concentrate on the querying and editing aspects of my writing.
I still have a lot to do before I'm ready to start sending queries again. I need to do some more agent research. I need to perfect a synopsis. I need to write and edit some outlines. I also need to do some minor edits to the actual story.
I also want to start seriously working on a musical project--a collection of songs. I'm not sure how well that's going to work, but I think it's worth a shot right now.
And then there's another rough draft of a project that I want to eventually try to sell. It needs serious editing, and now I think I've distanced myself from it enough to be ready for that editing.
Honestly, I hate hate hate editing. It makes me see what isn't good about what I've done and forces me to destroy my previous work, some of which took me a LONG time to develop. I've made an investment in these things that I once thought were amazing, only to find that they often don't even pass the level of mediocrity. So I have to destroy what I once built, only to try to build it up better the second time. Then the third time. Then the fourth time. As long as it takes...
Being a writer has given me some small glimpses into what it must be like to be God. Only I'm not as patient as He is. How many times has He had to tear us down so that He could rebuild us? Only it's not His fault we're imperfect...we're the ones who mess up our own lives...because we try to be what we can't be. We try to be Him.
I can't be God. I can just be a writer, and editing forces me to realize that I'm just not as brilliant as I sometimes imagine myself to be. As discouraging as all that sounds, I have to say that I really have been encouraged this week. I've been reminded about how much I really do love my life and the opportunities God has given me. I know that He's in control, so I really don't have anything to fear.
There's still a lot of work to be done, but I've got to be honest--getting rid of my prologue was a HUGE step in this journey towards getting published. It's gotten me back on track to do the things that I know I still need to do. I'm not there yet, but I know where I want to go.
Now I just have to do the work it will take me to get there.
Have I mentioned that I'm really glad I'm not God. I mean, seriously. I would have forgotten to make gravity, and then where would we all be? But He's the Author AND the Perfecter. When I really thing about it, I have nothing to fear.
...hee hee. Bion is going to be working overtime.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Gumption
Have you ever written a blog and then deleted the whole thing?
I just did that.
I'm very frustrated with myself right now. The blog I just deleted was basically about a page of me berating myself. The problem with it was not that what I said wasn't true, but really, who wants to read a page of me berating myself?
I'm frustrated because I haven't had a lot of time to write recently (I worked 2 extra nights this week because people at work are sick, and I had to fill in), but I haven't made good use of the time I have.
I haven't been writing. I haven't been editing. I haven't been actively seeking publication. Basically, I'm not a very good writer right now. I have a goal of sending at least five queries a month to literary agents (until I find one), and yet January is almost over and I haven't even sent one little query. It's easy to blame the lack of time, but I know that's not a good excuse. There's a reason I'm dragging my feet, and believe me, I have every right to be frustrated with myself.
I have no gumption. I've never had any gumption. I have talent. I have ability. I have resources. God only knows how many opportunities I've missed. And it's all because I don't have any gumption. Suddenly, that's just not good enough anymore.
The truth is, I'm just as afraid of success as I am of failure. In fact, I might be more comfortable with failure. I'm used to it. It takes far more courage to succeed than it does to fail...at least for me. When you fail, there's disappointment and maybe a little embarrassment, but no one expects anything of you. And the more you fail, the less people expect. You become pathetic, but you're safe. It's when you succeed that suddenly you have more responsibility. You have more people expecting more from you. And then there's that little idea of the unknown that causes me to stare sleepless at the ceiling some nights. I don't know how to be a successful writer...and the thought of becoming one actually scares me....
Ugh. It's not good enough. God's given me too much and shown He's too faithful for me to act (or not act) this way. I'm frustrated with myself, and I really hope this leads to some action.
I'm not sure if this is a good prayer or not, but pray I get some gumption. After all, the rest of this has come from the Lord's hand, too. My only boast is in Him.
I hope I don't update this blog again until I've sent out some good queries. I hope it's not too long.
I just did that.
I'm very frustrated with myself right now. The blog I just deleted was basically about a page of me berating myself. The problem with it was not that what I said wasn't true, but really, who wants to read a page of me berating myself?
I'm frustrated because I haven't had a lot of time to write recently (I worked 2 extra nights this week because people at work are sick, and I had to fill in), but I haven't made good use of the time I have.
I haven't been writing. I haven't been editing. I haven't been actively seeking publication. Basically, I'm not a very good writer right now. I have a goal of sending at least five queries a month to literary agents (until I find one), and yet January is almost over and I haven't even sent one little query. It's easy to blame the lack of time, but I know that's not a good excuse. There's a reason I'm dragging my feet, and believe me, I have every right to be frustrated with myself.
I have no gumption. I've never had any gumption. I have talent. I have ability. I have resources. God only knows how many opportunities I've missed. And it's all because I don't have any gumption. Suddenly, that's just not good enough anymore.
The truth is, I'm just as afraid of success as I am of failure. In fact, I might be more comfortable with failure. I'm used to it. It takes far more courage to succeed than it does to fail...at least for me. When you fail, there's disappointment and maybe a little embarrassment, but no one expects anything of you. And the more you fail, the less people expect. You become pathetic, but you're safe. It's when you succeed that suddenly you have more responsibility. You have more people expecting more from you. And then there's that little idea of the unknown that causes me to stare sleepless at the ceiling some nights. I don't know how to be a successful writer...and the thought of becoming one actually scares me....
Ugh. It's not good enough. God's given me too much and shown He's too faithful for me to act (or not act) this way. I'm frustrated with myself, and I really hope this leads to some action.
I'm not sure if this is a good prayer or not, but pray I get some gumption. After all, the rest of this has come from the Lord's hand, too. My only boast is in Him.
I hope I don't update this blog again until I've sent out some good queries. I hope it's not too long.
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