Arm’s Length

When I was younger, I hated getting kisses from my grandparents. They were wet and sloppy on my cheek and my arm would instantly wipe away any residue left from saliva or lipstick. I began to push my arms out, trying to keep them back. Soon, it became apparent I didn’t enjoy getting a kiss when receiving a hello or goodbye hug.

I have a habit of pushing God back, trying to keep him at an arm’s distance. I don’t know why I do this. I could easily blame other Christians, disgusted with the faults they show that I don’t want to be associated with. But this wouldn’t be fair or true. I don’t know why I do this, but it has been a constant in my life over the past few years. I buy into the lie that life will be better, easier. I listen to the same voice that tempted Adam and Eve: God doesn’t know better than me.

And that is just what it is: a lie.

God has been faithful, though. Unlike my parents and grandparents, God never succumbed to my outstretched, blocking arms. Instead, He has gracefully stood by waiting, hoping, calling me back to His embrace. Some days, He is quieter and gentler while attempting not to cause me pain, to startle me, or to cause me to run further away. Other days, He sees me catch a glimpse and calls out loudly, ready to run across the room like long-lost friends.

No matter what, He continues calling, hoping, and waiting.

The calls have gotten progressively louder recently. I am finding I am happier and more driven when seeking God and remembering His embrace. I understand more and see clearer as I continue soaking in His truth. I have been more at peace, and I have been able to find more comfort in my fears and insecurities as I continue to search out God and find my path in this life.

God is infinitely patient and faithfully, gracefully waiting as we run and hold Him back at an arm’s distance. Will I continue allowing God to bring me into His embrace? Only time will tell, but I hope so.

Just Write

Huh…Saturday was a very busy day on my blog. I have no clue why, but there was a huge spike in readers that day.

I’ve been meaning to write for a while again, but haven’t (as I’m sure is quite evident). It seems to be the struggle. I just can’t seem to write. Every time anything comes into my head to write about, I begin developing how things will go. Then I do nothing. All day long I’ve had this nagging voice in my head say repeatedly, “just write.” Easier said than done for me.

In my reading, at least when I am reading, I keep coming across this idea that perfectionism is the killer of dreams and of writing and of so much. I am not a perfectionist, though. Or I thought I wasn’t. It seems, oddly enough, that in my writing I want a lot to be perfect. Which I find to be odd because my writing is filled with mistakes all over the place. I’ve never put a lot of effort into essays I would write for classes. But I’ve realized my perfectionism is less in the mechanics, but in the quality of the words. I didn’t post my Good Friday blog because I couldn’t get the words write. There was a lot missing.

Where that is a valid idea, it keeps me from putting words on a page.

I’ve been thinking about my life a lot the past few weeks. I’m not sure I have the right word to describe what I think of it. It’s not that I’m unhappy with my life, but I know it could have so much more. I’m still looking for that ambition and motivation to chase after what ever dreams may be in my heart, soul, and mind. I have ideas on what they may be, but fear is holding me back, as it often does.

My reading, my writing, and my living have slacked lately. Interestingly enough, this is most evident in the fact it has been over a month since I have visited The Cup, the coffee shop I frequent…er…used to.

I’m also noticing it in the movies I select to watch and the themes I pick out of them. Unsurprisingly, this week has been Harry Potter, and the life pieces I’m grabbing are nearly gut-wrenching…Nearly.

Over the next few months I will be acquiring a bunch of new music thanks to Kickstarter.com. Some of these artists are amazing and have some unique ideas for albums. I’m excited for that.

This blog had a lot more organization and flow in my head when I sat down to write it. Obviously, it did not end as such. Oh well, at least I’ve finally written something. Now to just keep writing. Just write.

Easter: Not an Easter Blog

It’s Easter. I had planned on writing a blog for Good Friday with a follow-up blog for today. Yet again my work fell incomplete. It was not ready to be published, but the process over the last month has taught me a lot about my writing and about how I am thinking. I also know I have a couple of friends I can count on to edit and work with me on my writing. Motivation? We’ll see.

But none of that matters, really. Jesus has risen! I’ve had a lot of time to think and talk with God. I try to listen and I try to take each day as it comes. I have few plans for the future right now; I’m playing it by ear.

It seems, however, that God is really trying to push me somewhere. I am unsure where, though. There are times that I can just feel God saying: this is what I want for you…I just can’t see what that thing is. It’s an interesting feeling when it happens and I hope to figure that something out soon. But sometimes God has us wait just a little longer. Sometimes we aren’t listening well enough.

I am content and that gives me unrest. I am antsy and I wish I were stagnant.

God redeemed us to him, and I still make it so much about me.

Writing

Failure has been on my mind a lot lately. I feel as though I have failed a lot. I am a failure. That, however, is selling myself short and couldn’t be farther from the truth. I understand that. Really. The problem is I have never really invested myself into the things I do. I really began to realize this the other night.

I began reading “Running With the Buffaloes” for the second time in my life. The first time was my sophomore year of high school. My cross country coach strongly encouraged his runners to read it, so I borrowed his copy and read it. This time around, however, I realized that I was the number 8/number 9 guy on our team for a reason: I didn’t put in the effort.

I graduated college with a 3.08 GPA. My high school was worse (after adjusting to a 4 point scale) if I remember right. For many, that seems like a good GPA, respectable, maybe even great. There is no reason, however, that I didn’t have a 3.7 or better. I didn’t put effort into school, though. I never have. I skipped anywhere between 33-60% of my classes. I didn’t care. In all reality, I shouldn’t have gone to college. At least not right away.

For the past couple of months, I have strongly been considering my writing. Do I have what it takes? Can I make even a supplemental income with my writing? I do not expect to write a New York Times best seller or be a well-known journalist. I just want to write, and maybe see it somewhere than here. Maybe add some cash to my pocket outside of what I end up doing with my life.

It’s been about a year since I decided writing is something I wanted to do. It’s been nearly a year since I started having incurable writer’s block. Maybe this is God’s way of saying no.

In the past couple of weeks, I have asked people close to me, those who know my writing best, those that would be most honest whether or not I have what it takes. Is my writing any good? I have support. True, honest support. My parents support me. I know this because they bought me journals for Christmas last year. I know this because they do this even though they don’t always like my decisions I make with my time, but continue to give me the tools to continue to follow my heart. This support is relieving; it is scary.

I have been digging into Stephen King’s “On Writing”. It has fueled my desire to write. It has also added to my increasing fear. Writing (successfully) takes a lot of work. It is not something to be taken lightly. King seems unable to stress this point enough.

I have my track history with my lack of effort. If I really want to write, I have to change some things in my life. I need to actually try; I need to put in effort. Right now I want this. I hope the support I have, especially with those I have talked to recently, continues and will drive me.

I do believe I can be a good writer…or at least that I have what it takes. I can attribute some of that to my childhood. My creativity was at an all time high. I was always reading and read an incredible number of books. I didn’t write much then. In high school, I began to develop my writing while still reading a decent number of books. Usually not my assigned reading, simply books I wanted to read. In college, I wrote a little and my reading became nearly extinct. Now, I want to drastically increase both.

My foundation has been laid. I am still filling my toolbox and will soon begin framing my house. The building is about to begin. I have investors who seem to have open pockets. I hope I find my tools and trust my skill and build. I hope my investors never fail to give when I need it. The time is now.

Redeemed

I used to work at a camp in the middle of Iowa. Every Thursday, we would present the story of God, the story of our lives, in mime form. We would paint our faces and act out the story with our emotions and our movements with the help of some props and music. It is a fantastic worship experience as well as ministering tool. My last summer, I had the chance to be the part of God. Twice.

The first time, I began to grow a strong relationship with the person who portrayed humanity. Throughout the rest of the summer (and much of the next year) we began to get to know each other. Six weeks after our first mime together, I was God again. She was also in this mime. We had found out she was going to play one of the “bad guy” roles. She was devastated, and it was made worse when she learned she was supposed to play my mother, Mary, but due to our growing relationship, the directors decided to recast her.

She had spent the past few mimes at her home church playing the “bad guy” and her heart needed to feel that other role. One thing about miming: you truly feel those characters in you; you are those characters. We talked about it much that week. She had hoped that maybe she would be the one to get saved at the end. See, every week, one “bad guy” was randomly picked to get saved. God loves everyone. However, at our final rehearsal, she was the one that practiced it. We knew she wouldn’t be redeemed that night on stage.

After the mime, when we prayed our voices back in, God was still moving in me. She was broken down all week from various things and that night, that role did not help her heart. I felt God telling me to go over and take the paint from my face and smear it on hers; God wanted her to know she was loved, that He was still there for her and that He had never left her. She was redeemed.

She buried her face into my chest and we hugged. That shirt still bears her face. Even with the ending of the relationship we had, and our diminishing friendship, I hold onto that shirt. It hangs in my room. It serves as a reminder to me: I am redeemed. It doesn’t matter how far down we are, it doesn’t matter how broken our hearts are, it doesn’t even matter what we’ve done, God is still there. God is still loving us. God is still redeeming us. One day I want to give that shirt to her or somebody and remind them of the all-encompassing love God has for us. He will never abandon us. In our weakness, He is made stronger. When we are heavy burdened, He will be our rest. We have been redeemed.

Drought

It’s been a while and I can’t sleep. Seems like a good time to blog. Quite a bit has happened in the past month. For starters, I “graduated”. I put that in quotes since I am currently finishing up my last few classes. I have two more weeks of my May term classes and then one class and research in June. Then I should be done. I really enjoy having class everyday and the fact that I’m already at midterm. It is absolutely wonderful and is helping me stay motivated to get all my work done.

Come July, I will (hopefully) be taking a trip to Buffalo. I would like to look for an apartment and a job so that I can move out there in August. Jessie is attending grad school and I decided (a while ago) that I wanted to follow her. So, hopefully in two and a half months time, I’ll be living in New York. I am very nervous and excited about all of it.

Part of the reason I haven’t written much lately is an odd case of writer’s block. When I have ideas coming to me, I am either unmotivated or simply not in the place to write (like the middle of class). Then, when I have time and am ready to write, the pen hits the paper but doesn’t move. It has been very frustrating to say the very least.

The past couple weeks, however, I have really been pushing some change into that. I go to the coffee shop about twice a week right now. It’s really more than I can afford, but I decided I allow myself to go until my wallet ran out of cash. $2 coffee and a few hours sitting, reading, watching people, and getting life down on paper. It has helped push through some of this block, however, it has all been biographical as opposed to essays I would like to write.

I have also realized how much I love this life. I love going to the coffee shop for a few hours. I would love to do it everyday, but until I can afford that, I think 2-3 times a week is just wonderful. I really hope to find a couple of places in New York where I’ll be known as a regular. I really like that idea. I never go places enough to do that…with exception to Old Chicago last semester, however, that has changed due to finances.

I have really been finding my time at the cup very relaxing. I don’t get distracted from work I want to get done, because I don’t take my computer with me. It has also had a strange calming effect on me. Even if a day is going well and I have a tiny bit of anxiety for no reason, a cup of coffee and a notebook and I am completely relaxed when I make my way home.

Home. Another odd thing for me lately. I’m living with my best friend’s mom while I finish classes. Then I will be going to my parents house for a month. Then to New York (hopefully). I am really excited to call a place mine. To live in the same place (without moving) for more than 6 months. I wonder if I will really be able to call it home, though.

These are a just a few thoughts that have been filling the pages of my journal this past week. I hope this will put an end do this writing drought (in general, maybe not on here). I have really learned a lot about myself this week and am excited to see how the rest of this summer goes.

Graduation

I am afraid about graduation. I feel like I have no direction for my life. There are things that I want to do (write) but I am afraid I am not good enough. I don’t know where to begin trying to “become” a writer. I don’t where to begin finding a “real” job. In six to eight months I have to start paying back student loans. In four to six months I am most likely following Jessie and moving out-of-state. For the first time, I will be living on my own and paying rent. That scares me. I have no money and there are things I want to buy in the next year.

I admit I have lived a somewhat easy and sheltered life. What I mean is I don’t know the first thing to looking for an apartment. I have never thought about it. In five or ten years, I will likely be looking for a house. I don’t know the first thing about buying a home, buying insurance, or really what a mortgage really is.

My first job fell into my lap. I was fifteen, saw a posting in the church bulletin for a local bookstore and got hired on the spot. My second job came about easily. I honestly don’t know how to apply for jobs. I have never put together a real resume or cover letter. I don’t know how to handle applying to more than one job and possible getting called back for two or more.

There is a lot I don’t know. They are things I never learned, never needed to learn. I am a proud person. I don’t like asking for help. Some of it involves the labels I was given when I was younger. I don’t completely understand my need to do it myself…or rather struggle through things myself. Graduation cannot come fast or slow enough.

Documents Memories

I want to document my life. Let me clarify, I want to write down everything I can remember. I’ve begun to realize I have a lot of power in doing this. I can choose not to, but I feel like I should and I would like to. Also, as my memories begin to be more recent, there are good ones and a ones; there are things I’m proud of and things I regret. I have a choice in what I write. Do I write truthfully or do I edit my life how I want it? Classically, I’m truthful and I write honestly. I will likely do this because lessons can be learned from the pits. My scars are still there. The danger is dwelling on any of these memories. I   excited and scared to examine and document my life this way. Now to actually do it!

Riverside?

It is three in the morning. Surprise, surprise. I’ve been up completing my application for camp, filling out tax refunds, and writing a check for my credit card. The hardest thing has been the application. A couple of weeks ago a friend told me I should work maintenance with him and shortly after another to work at the camp store with him. For the past couple weeks I have wrestled with the idea of going back to camp after a couple of years away. This has been a very hard decision.

I found out a little over a month ago that I am twelve credits shy of graduating in May (even though I’m done with my major and liberal arts requirements). So, I need enough credits for a semester. My original plan was to take classes this summer so that I could move next fall to wherever my girlfriend is going to grad school. She is going out-of-state and is already two hours away from me now. I really don’t like it. To work at camp would mean I finish my final semester in the fall and spend four months at least six hours away. At least.

I miss camp. I miss the relationships and the communities that are formed. I miss the people; I even miss the kids. I miss the bubble that is so much freer from the world and I can truly focus on God. I would love to go back.

It is three in the morning and my application is finished. I am not sending it. I am not filling out the envelope, I am not putting the application in, and I am not sending it. I am not being called back to camp, not by God anyway. For two weeks I have been praying about it. For two weeks my heart flips back and forth. As I finished my application and began to truly feel and think about everything, I know camp is not where I need to be.

My heart could definitely benefit from a summer at camp. I do not think God is calling me away from camp. I just do not feel that is where I should be. I will take classes either at home or stay in Cedar Falls. I will visit camp. Maybe, I will find a week to volunteer. But I will not work at camp. I am glad I filled out the application, though.

Week One

The first week of my final semester is over…finally. This has been an extraordinarily long week. A few people in my classes have shared that sentiment today. My longest days are Mondays and Fridays. I wake up at 8 and I’m not back in my room until 4. I have an hour break for lunch. My Tuesdays and Thursdays will be great catch up days as I only have one class at 3:30. And yes, I will definitely need that time…

I had anticipated a lot of work in my classes. This week alone I have already read a couple hundred pages. One of my teachers (she is still working on her dissertation and so is not a doctor and does not want to be called a professor) informed us that the reading is going to double. Joy. The interesting thing about that class, however, is the heart of the material. It is my non-western civilization that is required for my liberal arts requirement. My teacher has made it clear she values the concept of the liberal arts and expects us to write well, speak well, and generally communicate well with each other. We are studying more than the Middle East; we are studying people. I have forgotten how much I enjoy people and studying them (not in a creepy way). It will be hard, but refreshing.

My math class is the same structure as last semester. Because of this, I know what I need to do. I do not plan on slacking, but I know when my reading becomes more important where and how and I can prune the work in that class. My research seems more laid back. The professor from Penn State that guided my project  in the direction my adviser and I have taken it is visiting in March. We are hoping to have some work done and questions ready when he comes. I have organized all my notes from last semester and feel less pressured and more of a vision than I have had. We will just see where that goes.

My most interesting class and the one I care most about is right away in the mornings. Ironically, it is the only class I’m taking this semester that is not a requirement for me to graduate. Intro to Professional Writing has already been very enlightening for me. I am pretty sure I am the only not English major or minor in that class. I laughed this morning because my classmates were complaining about the amount of reading we’ve had already. I’ve relished in it. It has been both inspiring and interesting to me. I am very excited where this is going.

The most interesting thing about this class is the ideas it is giving me. I had thought this class was going to be getting into the field of writing and dealing with publishers and the like. I was mistaken as are many. Professional writing is actually a career choice. It is also known as technical writing and encompasses much more. It is very misunderstood and is actually considered to be a great career choice with many opportunities in today’s economy. There is a lot of room for growth and can appeal to almost anybody of any major. What a wonderful thing!

I was talking with my adviser about this today and he knows a person from grad school that he is going to try and hook me up with. Apparently, she is a technical writer for a math publication who has her PhD in a specific field of mathematics. Even if I branched out further, it seems like a very possible career choice for me. A lot more open than journalism or writing a book.

This has a been a very long week, but it has been insightful. I’m already working harder than ever before and have begun thinking about my future exponentially more (which has already been much of my time). I am officially out of work as of last night but I’m hoping that will change. I hope this semester continues to be insightful and fun. I will keep things updated…hopefully.