Readin', Writin', and Hold the 'Rithmetic, Thanks!

Why do I read? Why do I write?

I was thinking yesterday, as my peers were critiquing my story, that it's probably easier to answer the second question first. I write because I have questions. About everything. I question, therefore my characters question, but sitting in the classroom of an extremely liberal university really is not the best place to let those characters out. I realize this, yet I still do it, because perhaps I will cause someone else to question.

So that brings me to why I read. I read because I have questions. I want answers. I read to find those answers. I find the guidance in the Bible and hopefully, somewhere in all of the piles of fiction and non-fiction in my room I will find someone who has learned how to really apply that guidance effectively. Or maybe I'll be like Dr. House, and one oddly phrased sentence completely unrelated to anything else will trigger something in me and the answers will come pouring out. Hasn't happened yet, but I'll keep trying.

My problem is that my questions are a bit too real for most people. Somehow, Ted Dekker has managed to craft his Q&A into fantastic stories that people want to read. I doubt, though, that he is someone who a lot of people want to talk to in person. He's too real. That's why Slumber of Christianity wasn't as much of a success as it rightly should be...too real. People can't take it unless it is all veiled in a story- take The Shack. It is only received because it's placed in the fiction section.

Why is everyone afraid of stripping down and nakedly asking those questions? Not hiding behind stories and hypothetical what-ifs. Honestly saying, "I don't know why I feel this way, but I do and it can't be hidden any longer. This is just not right. I need an answer." Can you imagine the opportunities Christians would have? That's why charismatic churches are booming so much. People want the Holy Spirit and want to be free to express what they feel. But it's not that old time religion at all. That satisfied older generations, but my generation wants, no, needs more. That's a different blog entirely, and will definitely come soon.

I've seen too many churches and too many programs that spout the wonderful message of Christ without any warning of negativity. Christ will return and make it plainly and undeniably clear who was right. It's true that God's love and power outshines anything that Satan could ever throw at us. However, Jesus promised that people would see hardships just for following Him. The disciples were absolute proof of the persecution that Christians would go through for centuries upon centuries. So why do churches hide that? It's really not fair to the new believers, because they can't recognize the attacks that Satan is trying to bring upon them. Can't we at least send them out the door with a copy of The Screwtape Letters, or something?!

I think it comes down to the fact that many, and I would say most outside of the charismatic world, are afraid of evil themselves. Christianity would have grown by leaps and bounds, or at least not seen so much uprising if we did some good old fashioned rebuking and anointing and pleading the blood. That's where the older generations were dead-on. But somehow we've fallen away from that, and I'd like to see us get back into it. If people who have been Christians for years and years and YEARS shy away from any mention of evil, how are new believers supposed to stand up against it?

More questions, more writing.

No more thinly veiled excuses

I want to write what I want, when I want. Only when inspiration hits will I attempt to lay out my genius before the masses in a way that can be read and, although not quite understood, grasped on some level.

That ain't gonna fly anymore.

I am completely over this whole school situation- the world of academia is positively stifling to my flighty spirit. The audience that I aspire to reach does not sit hung over in a classroom at an overbearingly liberal university. I would like to write for people who have realized that the organ in their head is yes, a brain, and have attempted to use that somewhat developed frontal lobe until it becomes fully functional. Now, though, I must work solely for the five professors I have, because they are the ones that will critique my work with a heavily wielded red pen. Neither do I want to write for bitter, under-paid people who saw their dreams fall by the wayside because they did not have the passion to fuel them.

As I grow older and become more independent, the weight is beginning to drag me down. Throwing a tempter tantrum because I'm not being treated like an adult will not help matters whatsoever, especially considering that I am completely unequipped to take on enough responsibilities to actually deserve that respect. I do not desire to return to the childish ways of my past, and I do want to grow, but it seems as if all sides of the arena are demanding that I give them my attention- and I can't.

Today I realized that the path my life has taken, through no choice of my own, has required that I pick up new information that I would have never deemed important on my own. Not that I'm downplaying the necessities of being well-rounded, for being able to insert random trivia at times has the potential to bring about amusing awkwardness. I'm simply a little chagrined at the timing. My senior year of college, of all things! Can't I catch a break? But really, if given the option to schedule and map out our lives, would we ever be truly satisfied? I think it is better this way, to have no control or to give up the small bits of control that we do have, so that life will keep us alive. I would have chosen a very safe path thinking that it would have been my security- not realizing that it would lull me into a comatose state.

Maybe I'm trying to say that I'm not really that discontent with how things are going. It is taking a different direction, certainly, but it is remaining interesting. The main drawback is trying to find time to watch all of my TV shows.

Out of my way!

I was thinking yesterday about how important it is to humans to be important.

Bear with me while we figure this out.

I want to be respected. I had a dream last night that I was at church and I was told that I had to preach. Keep in mind: I have never preached in my life and the thought nearly knocks me off the bed. Back to the dream- I was getting completely incensed when people weren't paying attention to me. They were talking to one another and even getting up to walk around the room. I resorted to, yes, hollering at them. It was absolutely insane.

Firstly, I would never preach. (Watch this come back to bite me in ten years.) Secondly, I am not the hollering type. I mean, I have done it. I'm a redhead. But I want to be known as gentle and not for beating other people about the head with my beliefs! Certainly, I don't want to be a doormat and I want to be bold, but bold and obnoxious do not have to co-exist.

We have to matter. It's in our makeup. It never fails to amuse me how this generation acts completely ambivalent about this and yet it is glaringly obvious. Teenagers and twenty-somethings cheer on those who decide to buck the trends to be an outsider and be different. They say, "I don't care what anyone thinks." But then they blog and they join social networking sites and proudly display comments and wall posts. Really, the dance card is still utilized- it is just now masquerading in the form of a text message. Yet point this fact out to one of these compulsive users, and you are met with a blank stare, then defiance at the idea that they actually NEED another human being.

That's a sermon right there. But remember, I don't preach.

Everyone wants to be an important entity. If not, you won't survive. It starts out with being who has the best lunchbox in elementary school, then moves on to who has the best high heels (I'm battling it out for this one!). Eventually, it's who publishes the #1 NYT Bestseller...then the sequels. Who creates the next must-have product, then continues to renew the patent. We view it as a competition, but it really seems that there's room for everyone. What is lacking? Creativity.

We feel that we have to step on one another to climb to the top. Wouldn't it be a novel idea if we worked together to help everyone find their own importance? But no. We're too busy tromping our way up, up, up.

Hey, at least the tromping is happening in fabulous heels, am I right?