Fact #53

Writer's block on finals week is directly proportional to the length of the ABC Harry Potter marathon.


Having a really, really hard time concentrating on my final papers tonight.  I have been having a great deal of difficulty concentrating on anything, really.

To know me, and mean truly, deeply know me, is to know that I love stories.  A well-crafted story, real or imagined, captures me more than anything, especially lately, in an environment that appears to find them senseless...a waste of time.  Sometimes I have to write something down that happened that day, because it felt like it happened so perfectly, it was scripted.

The beginning of mine and Allen's friendship, for example.  I left our dorm around 2 am to meet up with a boy, a member of my drama team, who I was concerned about getting along with.  We were both very stubborn.  Before I left, Bethany asked me if it was wise of me to go, to meet with a boy, let alone a boy I didn't very much like, at so late an hour on a campus notorious for gossip.  I shrugged.  "It feels like a God thing.  Like we'll be friends for a long time after this."  The rest, for lack of better phrase, is history.

I feel like I'm drying up in a world that lacks a sense of whimsy.  Or adventure, for that matter.  I'm not promoting recklessness or a childish response to reality.  Maturity is important, absolutely.  But I don't think adulthood and maturity are synonymous with one another.  In fact, I'm beginning to believe adulthood is a fallacy, created by society to trick us into believing an age bracket makes us mature and gives us certain liberties.  Suddenly, potentially harmful activities are for "adults only."  Adult language, adult beverages, adult stores...why is any of it necessary?

So I return to my stories, where morals are clear and friendship is lasting.  And I bolster myself to create my own, regardless of the skeptical looks and rolled eyes and shaking heads.

Where do you see God working?

I feel like he is altering my perspective on the world.  Thing that were important, are suddenly nauseating to think about.

What do you hear God saying?

"You're a spark.  Don't lose your light."

How do you see God working?

Unsure again.  Sometimes I feel him prompting to speak out on certain things, or in specific situations.  When I do, I meet resistance.  Usually propelled by fear.  When I don't, I leave frustrated regardless.  I feel stuck in the mud.

Fact #34

God doesn't let things lie until He's done with them.

This can be a wicked-frustrating thing; luckily this time is brilliantly awesome.

You know that song I said was playing when I was prompted by God to see what I was painting?  Ìllgresi?  These are the lyrics, translated from Icelandic to English:

You sleep till noon
You die but come to life
The leaves change their colours

You ache - get up and dress
In a raincoat - you keep going into the bleak day

You tear out heart-roots that you stamp on
With your hands in your pockets, been through enough
Walking in wet grass until

It shines on me through the branches
I look up and revive - the leaves change their colours

We feel warmth, create roots
Undress our hearts
We head towards a good day

We plant and we give life and we blossom
With our hands out of the pockets in earth you delve
Now we remove an ugly thought

Time will heal all things, gives life, kindles fires
Flames of the soul
No longer cold, start life again
My soul comes to life, paints the world


I don't have any words right now.  I'm still processing in awe. 

Where do you see God moving?
In all art, drawing me into a new sense of worship.

What do you hear God saying?
"I save the kicker for last.  You're on a grand adventure."

How do you see God moving?
With things I don't understand right away.

Fact #2

Life will never be as exciting as any movie. Ever.

You could argue that reality TV has cured this depressing truth, but I quite disagree. This is mainly due to the fact that people only tend to act out when they know they have a captive audience, and/or it has been scripted, as most everything is nowadays.

I came upon this weighted realization a couple weeks ago, after seeing Sherlock Holmes for the second time. Growing up, I had always wanted to be a detective. My dad was one for a time, but it wasn't his footsteps I wanted to follow diligently. A small town detective is only bombarded with petty paperwork. I had aspirations of being the next Dick Tracy, Nancy Drew, Basil of Baker Street (the closest I had to Holmes growing up).

I used to put up posters every day, looking for a Watson to my Holmes, crossing out the, to my ever-discerning seven year-old brain, intellectually unsuitable. Of course, there were very few that could ever keep up with my schemes. I doubt I could have kept up with my younger self now, so my sympathies go out to all of the neighbors I convicted then. Of course, nothing ever came of those convictions. I continued to pester my neighborhood friend, pealing "Let's go have adventures!" The girls beating the boys in kickball was as close as we got.

Going about the day-to-day in faith can be an adventure. Maybe God made Earth this dull so we'd want Heaven more. In the meantime, I'll continue to study codes and ciphers. Perhaps a secret society is just what this campus needs.