Thursday, July 26, 2012
...I think I want to be real.
I'm a perfectionist by nature. Sometimes I am able to balance that fairly well, utilizing its strengths and downplaying its weaknesses.
But sometimes, it just makes me feel like a piece of perfect looking plastic with hidden scratches and a flawed structure.
Sometimes I need to be reminded how small and imperfect I am underneath everything I'm learning, underneath the success, underneath the life-that is-ever-so-wonderful.
I'm a small, weak, sinful person.
I have a strong God.
And sometimes I need the humbling reminder of that, of the fact that I can't do it all. Of the fact that being wrong and being hurt and being vulnerable and messy isn't always a bad thing. Of the truth that it's so much more fulfilling to be real and to be following Jesus honestly than to be putting up walls and painting pictures of a perfect person I'm not.
And it's so amazing to see God make beautiful things out of messes.
Friday, July 13, 2012
Sometimes I am nearly brought to tears and awe at this gift. I read, I write, I love stories. That's something that's been born in my soul. It brings me to tears. Over and over again it's changed my life. But sometimes I lose the love I had at first. I forget how precious it is to feel the pages of an new book or to breathe in the smell of an old treasure. I forget what it means to muse over a phrase that sings the song my heart cannot express. I forget the ways that people in books can make me laugh and see the world in a new way.
But deeper than that- I forget that stories are a way for me to understand the world, understand life, and learn to enjoy life. I forget the swelling of my soul in worship and amazement in a story of fall and redemption. I forget the joy that comes with simply being alive and with hearing the stories of the humans on this fallen planet, where a rebellion has been launched and hope is not mere optimism. I forget that everyone has a story, and that in the telling of stories we are changed beyond what can be described.
And then something sparks me to remember, like the cord that was wiggling out of it's socket has been plugged back in. Then awe overwhelms me yet again. Tonight was one of those moments.
Thanks, Father, for the awe of being alive.
Thanks, Father, for the beauty and tragedy and awe scattered like bits of blue flowers among grey plains.
Thanks, Father, for stories.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
|OYAN Summer Workshop 2012. Olathe, Kansas. Bigger on the Inside.|
Snapshot One: Broken Glass King
Currently the novel project that I'm working on is this novel called Broken Glass King. It was born out of some of the ways that God was breaking me and healing me over the past year and it's a project I'm incredibly excited about. I've posted about it in the past. Probably you'll hear a lot more about it in the future months.
Snapshot Two: One more year in school
I'm realizing that this summer is my last summer of being a kid. Come this time next year, I'll be graduated. In some ways I'm terrified of what comes after this year, and in other ways I'm completely thrilled. But even when I'm terrified, I am reminded that I am not alone and that any adventure, no matter how many dragons I face or fires I have to walk through, I have nothing to fear. This year should be exciting. God works in mysterious and beautiful ways.
Snapshot Three: The OYAN Summer Workshop 2012
I had no idea a writing workshop could do so much more than just encourage me in my writing. I learned so much about writing. I learned more about life and about God and about what His family looks like. I made some amazing friends. We did some crazy things. The OYAN family started on an adventure of wrecking normal for the glory of God. I'm thrilled to see what comes next. I could go on- but that's stuff for another post.