Writer's Block Isn't Real

Writer's block isn't real, writer's block isn't real, writer's block isn't real...

At least that's what I have to tell myself when I feel stuck. I heard someone talk about it once in a guest lecture at the U[niversity of Minnesota]. When I do feel stuck and tell myself this, it's like I only get more stuck. I hit these patches in life, dry spells if you will, in which I feel like I have nothing insightful to say. Nothing new to offer the world, and yet a hunger to write.

That's the side of writing I much prefer. I think one of the jobs of a writer is to deliver from their perspective. That's one of the beauties of writing, letting yourself come through. Literature snobs can get hung up about this, but I think it's a part of it. We as humans like to dive into the mind of another, even better if we can get lost there, swim around for a while.

Writing is a beautiful and incredibly challenging task. It feels like an ever-changing beast. Today, I feel ok at it, months ago I felt great at it. Tomorrow I might feel awful at it. Sometimes I'm driving somewhere, or walking around and a thought comes to me. BRILLIANT! I think, I'll write that later...Later then becomes forgotten, or later it comes out in much less an interesting manner than your high hopes perceived it would.

To tell a story seems easy. What are the facts? How does it arch? Who are the players? Who's your audience? Then, to make the proverbial rubber meet the road - to write. I don't think about any of that, to be honest. Whenever I was told to write an outline I went crazy. For some reason, when I think about it, it doesn't work.

Which is exactly why I sat down today, to write something of significance and somehow started writing about writing. Because I have "writer's block"...which isn't real.

In the end, I bet I have a story to tell - I think I have one in me. Maybe I'll give it a go...

Wisdom: Laying Down My Will to See His

I learned a really hard lesson once in saying no right now, in order that I could say yes later. I didn't even slightly know that that was what I was learning at the time, but as I saw it out and trusted, it unfolded...

I have written about it before, I was planning to study abroad in Paris one fall. I'd been dying to go for a while, so I started telling everyone in the early summer that I was going, (I'm still learning that lesson, I think) and almost completely believed it myself, though ignoring a small, quiet feeling that I wouldn't in fact board a plane in the coming months to fulfill my dream.

The nagging feeling clawed at my logic (thank God for giving me any at all!), eventually getting to me. The cost was so great, I could not justify it; it just wasn't right! With everything lined up but the plane ticket and signing away my eternity to the student loans to cover the trip, I decided not to go. In as much as anyone can be heartbroken over a thing and not a person, I was. I felt silly for going back on all that talk, and putting a dream on hold after leading myself to believe it was about to be realized.

Months later, as other plans and parts of my life came to a screeching halt, at this intersection I found another dream of mine: Youth With a Mission. I could not only go take a breather from my stinted life, but I could go to Paris and go to a Discipleship Training School with YWAM. That turned out to be the very best experience of my life so far; valued far beyond its cost, especially in comparison with my college experience! I cherish my time abroad as the perfect gift it was intended to be. His plans certainly did exceed my own.

It may sound mediocre to some, but to me this experience was huge. And I will never forget that God spoke to me in the midst of the pain of giving up my plans for the sake of wisdom. He told me He was with me, and that He had something far better than I had imagined. He is never wrong.

Sometimes, wisdom tugs at your pantleg until you acknowledge it. That tug is no small thing, but it is quiet and subtle, requiring faith to respond. Sometimes the things it calls us to may seem uncertain, even difficult, but surrendered in the hands of the Almighty, life will never be short on His goodness. I believe that when wisdom tells us to lay down our will at God's feet, we will get to see just how lavish His is.

Life as a Walkabout

I hate that I'm thinking about using the "life is a journey" metaphor, but cliches are sometimes truths. I often look back on my life, see what my circumstances are now that are different from another previous point in my personal history. It's one of my Strengths, they call it "context". It's when one is good at learning from history; seeing how things from the then and there came together to be the here and now. The people with this strength find comfort in this process, - I do.

The last few days at work have been busy. There are things pulling me every direction and every day I'm re-writing my To Do list. I have to stop and remind myself how fortunate I am to have my job. I quickly think back to a year ago when I was just leaving the honeymoon period at a job that was on a steep incline to painfully frustrating. Before that, I did something I loved but it wasn't long-term, which is ironic because it was incredibly short-lived due to a freak accident. Although I guess I should know myself well enough to know klutziness isn't abnormal.

Again, the cliche is true: it's not without looking back that you see how far you've come.

A lot of times in looking back I find hope that even when things are bleak and there's no dots to connect between where you are and where you want to be, it's possible to get there. That is life! (Ugh, I haven't written for pleasure in a while, forgive the oozing of cliches.) Sometimes you put one foot in front of the other without really knowing what you'll walk through, because life doesn't let you stand still.

I'm actually kind of a fan of getting lost. It gives me a chance to explore something new, experience something new, and at the end of the day there's always some way to get back home. There are seasons where we are forced to do this. There's an Australian aboriginal practice about this that [in theory] I'm fond of called a walkabout. While it's conceptually geared toward adolescent males as a rite of passage to go off and find themselves in the wilderness, I like it. It is an apt metaphor to the times in life when you don't really know where you're going, or the purpose of the walking, but in it you learn a lot about who you are.

Maybe it's not one specific event, maybe yours wasn't when you were an adolescent or even limited to one age in your life - heck, maybe you have never had your "walkabout"! Dreams are meant to be grasped and deserts meant to be explored, should you dare to try. And maybe along the way you will learn to hope.

The Risk of Love Notwithstanding

Guard your heart. A particularly nauseating piece of Christianese if ever I heard one. I'm of the thought that it needs to go wherever "kissing dating goodbye" went to die. (Too harsh? Sorry...sort of.)

There was a slow build of annoyance the more I heard this over the last few weeks. For starters, where did it come from? Second, I don't think it means what just about anyone means it to. Last, and most importantly, how in the heck are two people supposed to figure out if they are to choose each other for life, without being vulnerable? Isn't it more a risk of pain to flippantly engage in a relationship for months, for some even years, all the while "protecting" yourself and never getting to the real stuff.

Call me crazy because I do it a little backwards; I want to know there aren't any giant, glaringly obvious deal-breakers (nod to Liz Lemon) before I bother to invest my time and subsequently heart. The beauty of that is, that is how I do it; that is my style. It doesn't actually matter how different people would do it, they're not living my life. They won't know my pain the way I do, but they also can't know my joy the way I do.

I don't highly value surfacey relationships. If there's one thing I've learned from my broken hearts of yore, it's that having fun and shared experiences does not a lasting loyalty and selflessness make. So I also won't apologize for striving to quickly discover the other heart. I won't keep letting everyone sell me short of how well I know myself, how I approach relationships, or how I make decisions for my life.

I decided that "guard your heart" is for people who are always in flippant relationships, which added a layer of hurtfulness for each uttered reference, but nonetheless I think it could be the only logical use. Surely, you should protect yourself from being taken advantage of, for granted, abused, used, or whatever else. Those who don't understand consequence, pain, or themselves, surely ought guard their hearts.

Or maybe take it slow and guard your heart are meant to be "listen to your intuition, wisdom, and don't buy in before you know"...all of which are yet offensive implications that I wouldn't otherwise be doing that but...I think I've made myself clear.

I've never remotely planned to live my life cooped up in a cushy padded room somewhere, doing nothing. Not to mention the deeper I go with the Lord, I think that sounds crazy! Trying to protect ourselves. Rather, I choose to dare to love because He first loved me; that love will cover my story end to end, high highs and low lows. That love will keep my heart together, and put back the pieces when - inevitable to life - it falls apart.

I will end on this: I keep running into something lately, a notion. Jesus wasn't guarded. He wasn't anti-vulnerability. He was all-in, encompassing grace, mercy, and love, unbridled and sacrificial. I have my strong doubts that God has called us to live guarded lives...the risk of love notwithstanding.

Unafraid Over Wavering

Never would I have said that I am particularly susceptible to wavering with the wind. I may be indecisive, that I'll own, but easily-persuaded? Never. I never would have described myself that way. I have even unofficially (or unbeknownst to them) coached people in the art of gleaning wisdom, then making a decision for yourself! Somehow, here I sit feeling emotionally exhausted from being tossed from the left to the right, and back again in a vicious cycle. Though when I can pause long enough to get my bearings, I know how I feel; I am not wavering...then I get thrown again.

Several weeks back, God told me something very clearly: He said, "You can go headlong into what I have before you, unafraid." Unafraid. Months further back, He told me "There is no place unsafe to go with me." Nowhere unsafe with Him. Then just today I was reminded of a very similar word given to me by someone else, almost exactly a year ago; don't be afraid. That last one, - given specific to a relationship that would enter my life.

Being unafraid is a choice. Not only is it a choice not to adhere to mere logic, but it is a choice to acknowledge and trust God. To trust God beyond what seems logical is something I have been learning about for nearly a decade. It was about nine years ago that He brought me to Psalm 91, in an hour of great fear. It floored me that God was so bent on protecting me, that I could not "strike my foot against a stone," - or as I always paraphrase, stub my toe. "A thousand at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you." That's my life verse. That's what's tattooed in my very own, everyday sight-line.

So I become ever increasingly familiar with flack for such a lofty belief. Pfft, God as protector! Not just protector, Refuge. And yet, I am emotionally toiled. On one hand, I have this exciting new thing that I am not afraid of, rather I want to study. Then on the other hand, there are all these voices drowning out my ability to even hear the Lord. These voices are those of logic and reason, but in this I have further realized something: fear masquerades cleverly under the guise of "logic". Logic is so respected, we could never question its validity...but I think as believers we should. The Bible is an entire book of logic-defied; the very Messiah himself is logic-defied. So much so, there are people who still believe Jesus wasn't it! Receiving Grace in spite of being undeserved, that is logic-defied. Walking unscathed through fire is logic-defied.

I find it perplexing that I struggle to find people who believe in such a big, boundless God. That I receive criticism because I would much rather trust the Lord and seek His wisdom, than put my trust in the logic of this world. No amount of logic can truly protect me, but He can. And though I know I'll never be completely rid of the skeptical questioners, I hope that they will let me walk out my faith the way God has so graciously shown me to; trusting in Him. I hope that I root down deeper in that, so as to be unwavering.

Unexpected: Grace Meet "Danger"

I struggle with being judgmental. I'm not always that way, but I definitely have my moments. There are times when I lean right into it like it is as sure as gravity. I see with my eyes, and my eyes know what they're seeing. I am just as much a failure as anyone else when it comes to being loving to all people. 

While I tend toward altruism, the reality is I also size people up. Sometimes my perception slips over the wobbly line into judgment. It's been a learning curve. I sometimes think that's why God has let my heart get broken in some of the ways it has. Nothing teaches you compassion like coming out of pain; making it through to the other side, where it no longer rules you. I have certainly messed up with no one to blame but myself. I have certainly been selfish, prideful, even hateful. It's been a process of learning to understand God's heart. 

I grew up thinking the way a lot of conservative Christians in the comfort of their white-bread world do: you got yourself into that mess, you might con me, or you're ignoring God...or really whatever other presumption you want to make about people whose lives aren't what we think they should be. The crazy thing is it doesn't matter what we think: God is gracious. 

I have been stuck on grace again in the last week or so. In recent years, I had to come to a place where it wrecked me, and made me a little queasy, almost, with how incomprehensible the concept is. Not that I'm not still blown away from time to time, but I am learning more about practical application. (God knows me so well; He's gotta grab my heart before He has a chance at my head.) What does it look like to choose grace? Or what does it look like to choose love?

I am a horribly inconsistent member of a sort of small group that meets at my church. We pray and then take coffee and cups into downtown to share some joe and the love of the Father. I'm inconsistent for who knows what reason, because every time I go I come back encouraged. Tonight was one of those nights. One particular man we talked to stands out. I could tell he just needed someone to listen. As we talked with him and heard about his life, I noted to myself the kindness of his face and that was when it first occurred to me our skin colors were important. 

I could have thought that I should stay home, where I'm comfortable - not approaching strangers downtown at night to strike up conversation. I could have drawn up a prejudice, clung to it, and never engaged the man. None of that happened. Instead, I got to do one of the most exciting things I ever find myself doing: speak the truth of God over someone's life. To get to look them in the eye, and with sureness in my core, say that their wrongs are overlooked; that they are loved. That is the God I know. One who reconciles, redeems, and pours out grace. 

I love moments like that because though it was simple, it was powerful. I say this not to verbally or publicly pat myself on the back (I attribute this to God working in me), but to express what I'm learning and that is this: that moment was sweet not only because that man needed to hear truth spoken to him, but he needed to be valued by strangers, innately trusted by strangers, shown dignity. To me it was significant in a bittersweet way; that it even had to matter that I was a white woman talking to a black man on a sidewalk downtown Minneapolis after dark. Yet that's exactly what stood out to me. The reason it's not an attempt to tout myself is that it's not me: it's grace. That was special in part because that's what Jesus was all about: show everyone love. 

And it's crazy how fear melts, prejudice doesn't rear its ugly head - but you simply see a person as loved by God, and listen to their story, then speak to them love. 

While I would've ended there, I feel I must say as a caveat of sorts: I also do not tell this story to say I ignored my judgment by going out. I know and have known many Christians who would think that that is dangerous behavior on several accounts (whether race, or safety, or whatever else). I think truly living out the love of Jesus doesn't come without risk -- in the world's eyes. 

A friend asked advice this week on facebook, about a man she saw who had a nice smart phone and expensive headphones, along with his sign pleading for "help". Of course in this age, the post drummed up the usual ignorant responses from a comfortable white world, so I couldn't help but chime in. My closing retort was only this: Jesus wasn't worried about getting taken advantage of, or hanging out with the "wrong" people. He went so far as to the cross, to die a death He did not deserve, among criminals, to show us compassion born of love.

So why be afraid to give to someone? Why not go for a walk and share a cup of coffee and the message of love, with someone different from you? The more you sink into the concepts of boundless love and grace, the more easily it will launch you unafraid into territory you may never have expected. 

From Ritual to Revival

A few weeks ago, I took communion at a church where I hadn't before. While my home church, Mercy, already does it a lot different than many churches, this was even further from anything I'd experienced. For me it can seem a mere ritual and a backslide into some of the old ways, those of my religion.

I grew up in a much different way of practicing Christianity than what it looks like to me now. I honestly don't remember a day of my life without a notion of God existing; doing whatever He does, wherever He is, up somewhere. I went to grade school where I had to memorize bible verses that were theologically way over my head. I jokingly say you can only read about Noah's ark so many times, but it's somewhat true - I haven't much touched the Old Testament in a long time, partially because of my childhood. We attended weekly chapel services where we sang several hymns. None of what I was raised in was wrong or tainted me, but I lived so many years without understanding in my heart why I even believed all this stuff. Some of it is probably even tainted in my memory because of my lack of understanding.

Then while hearing the gospel presented while on a mission trip in Appalachia as a freshman, it clicked. There's no more of an in-depth story, save for the sweet memory of spending probably an hour alone in awe. Flash forward through all the years to follow that moment, I honestly think I would have been one of the ones who didn't make it, if it weren't for that mysterious moment of truly knowing. As my faith climbed, so it felt did the weight of the things I faced.

I remember so clearly, after a difficult few weeks there was a night where my best friend at the time confirmed she was walking out of my life, cold-turkey without so much as a warning or even a good blowout. She didn't even plan to tell me. The gravity of that moment could until recently still take my breath away. That night, I cried so hard my nose bled. Even in the aftermath of that, I don't remember all the gritty details, but that I spent a lot of time pleading with God to ease my pain and He did. I don't know where else I would have found hope.

My recent radically-refreshed taking communion wasn't necessarily different in the way you might expect. The pastor simply invited us all to take pause and ponder what Jesus' death has meant to us personally. In the span of those two or three spared minutes, a wave of gratitude came over me, as when someone gives you exactly what you need right when you do - because that's what I recalled all in an instant. Years of my life, learning to trust the God I learned so much about all that time, through the realities of the pain of life and even find the hope to press on with joy!

I often wish I had a better "story" to tell, because it's just so subtly knit into my life that it's hard to pinpoint a moment, or tell of something beyond God giving me peace or hope, but that is what takes my breath away now. Not the pain of anything that previously ruled my life, but now the gravity of how God's hand has been in it all, and the freedom I continue to know deeper in Christ.