Fundamentals

I spend a lot of my time trying to streamline my life. I try to shortcut the process of whatever I am trying to do at the moment. With my writing for example, it's easy for me to spend a couple of hours watching videos, or reading books about writing, even studying sentence structure and word choice of my favorite authors. These things are good. They teach me things about what I love to do. The problem is that they are full of motivating promise without any actual results. Unless I sit down and write, a lot, I'm never going to get anywhere.

Part of the problem is my fear of imperfection and difficulty. It is one thing to think about a great concept to write about, or even a couple of quippy sentences that cut like a razor, but to actually sit and piece something together usually involves several revisions, at least two cups of coffee, and an ongoing battle with my self-confidence. Just like the best stories, the best examples of writing are typically born out of a painstaking process of frustration and continual failure, until you wake up one morning and have a vague notion that it might have been worth it.

Maturity is the same sort of animal. Growth is slogging journey through pain and failure, every so often interrupted by a glimpse of accomplishment overshadowed by what it took to get there. It's easy to fight this sort of process. We would much rather cross the desert by setting land speed records than walking. But, it is the day in day out that has made me the person I am today, and the same slogging that will make me into the kind of person I want to be.

Jesus modeled the same sort of process. It is strange to think of God incarnate preparing for something, yet he understood the rhythms of life enough to wait 30 years before starting the biggest portions of his ministry. There were a million steps taken before he turned his face to Jerusalem. As I read through stories about Jesus, where he went, and what he said, I see a patience with his process of living and teaching. One of the things I see clearly in Jesus life is that he was not paranoid about progress and efficiency. He was focused on the long term.

So this morning as I set pen to paper I attempt to do so with patience and purpose. I think Jesus prefers it that way.

When Perfect Meets Imperfect

Language is imperfect. Words are nuanced depending on the experiences attached to a word.

For example: Cat.

The picture you have in your mind probably varies based on whether you love circuses and think of a Lion, or are picturing a little kitty of your childhood.

This is a very small example, but when we get down to it, it is very hard to communicate precisely when using the human language. Which is why I find it remarkable that God tried to communicate with us at all, knowing that his message would be misread, misheard, misrepresented, and misunderstood through the ages in so many ways, which is a good reason for us to be humble about any theological conclusions we reach. Galileo was after all declared a heretic for believing that the universe revolved around the Earth. According to the church he opposed the obvious scriptures like Psalm 93:1 that says "...the earth is established, it shall never be moved..."

Language is just another way that God used the imperfect to do something about the mess we caused, and it is humbling. Studying language makes me realize that while God's truth is perfect and absolute, the language of the people he communicates to, as well as the people themselves are not, and yet He still does it and makes beautiful things.

The Joys of Squirrel for Breakfast

I stand by the right to publish incomplete snippets. The point of this blog is to build a unity. Basically, if there is a unity in my life, it will become apparent what that unity is. No post is a complete thought, theology, worldview, or poem within itself, it must be taken within the context of the entirety of this blog, considerations of who I am in public as well as who I am in extreme situations like when I am forced to wake up at 4:30 in the morning to help my wife jump start her car in 20 degree weather. I recognize my right as a flawed human being to do the following: 1) be wrong, 2) change my mind, 3) be inconsistent, 4) have improper grammar and spelling conventions. You are just as flawed, wrong, capricious, and prone to theological alteration as I am... so get over it.

Silence is a valuable commodity. Thoreau wanted it badly enough that he moved into the woods and built himself a little cabin. There is a small wood near my school that I walk by between classes. I often mentally dig through my backpack to see if I have enough supplies to survive for a week or two. The small cup of unheated gourmet soup made for me by my wife is probably too meagre a serving for that long. I don't have a knife with me, or matches for that matter. Even if I did have ample supplies I'm sure that someone would suspect a vagrant when they saw smoke rising from the trees, carrying with it the smell of sizzling squirrel bacon.

Some day I hope to have a very small cabin in an old growth forest, with a pot belly stove and lots of books and paper and pens and a guitar. I think there is something beautiful about a bit of isolation and silence, it makes you realize that a life without computers, cell phones, amplified instruments, cars, to the minute deadlines, and higher education, isn't as terrible as we've made it out to be. I'm not trying to be earthy or nostalgic. I just think I would love living isolated in the woods for a couple of weeks, maybe even a month out of each year, even if just to remind myself that the world doesn't end if I'm not a part of it. I think everyone should be forced to realize that at least once a year.