Doubt

No, this is not about the play or the movie, though they do deal with this topic extremely well. This one will end up being a bit more writer-ly focused. Mostly because the subject I want to talk about has a lot to do with me as a writer. However, maybe the rest of you readers can identify with my struggles.

Doubts plague me. They gnaw at my heels, lunge at my hands, and attack my shoulders. They whisper in my ears, shroud my eyes, and claw at my heart. I fight them, but the sheer numbers makes me want to give up the fight. Alongside doubt is Fear, goading and giving Doubt voice. They tell me things I wish I couldn't hear. But hear them I do. And though I wrestle against them, I cannot help but wonder, what if they're right?

I see the people around me, look at the writers I call my friends. All of them are so accomplished. They fit everything a writer should be. They're successful, organized, lauded, influential. I'm anything but. I am the least among my peers. I do not have success. I do not influence. I am certainly not organized. And praise comes from my friends and family, which shows how little effect I've had on the world at large.

Of course, what should I expect? The most I've published is a single, shoddy short story, a few book reviews, and a small devotion. Not the writings of a successful author. Yet I see the people around me, the ones praised highly by my professors, and who succeed at everything they do. I, on the other hand, seem only barely able to break even. I try hard, but my efforts aren't quite good enough.

I want to be like them, but I wonder if that's even possible. I wonder if I'm good enough to be a writer. The problem is that writing is the only thing I know, the only thing I enjoy. The only profession I could use my skills in and make any type of living. And the only job I could truly and wholeheartedly love. I feel like it's what I am supposed to do, but how can I do it and glorify God when my works seems like nothing? As though what I try to do is never going to meet the standards set for me? Can God use a barely successful person like me for His purpose?

It all just keeps circling in my head and one question repeats like a refrain in my head: Am I good enough?

And still the battle rages. Some voices trying to encourage me, others reminding me that I have failed to be who I wish I could be. And it seems that if the bad writers get "weeded out" from the good in the degree program I'm in, how long until I am tossed into the trash among the weeds? But other voices argue that I am a good writer and give me reasons why this is true. And the battle rages on.

How I wish someone would come to me and say, "I believe in you." if I decide to be honest to myself, I wish a specific person would tell me that.  And I wish I could hear God say it to me.

I wish I could just defeat these doubts. I wish I had confidence. But doubts are my constant companion.

God How can this small voice praise you? How can I give You glory when there is no one to listen? Show me how.

Holy is thy name and worthy of so much praise more that I could ever say.

Desires

Well, this year seems to have it's own set of challenges. Many of them. And I'll admit, most of them aren't having to do with classes or homework loads. The challenges are mostly me.

Let me clarify though. Last year was an amazing first year of college.I made lots of friends, learned about how difficult college is, which isn't too bad when you come from a college-prep private school. However, I think if I could do it over I would change some things. I let too much stuff slide, was not as good a student or writer as I could have been, and just generally should have done better.

 This year, I want to be better. I want to take my health more seriously than I have in the past. I want to revitalize my relationship with my Savior. I want to be a better roommate and friend. I want not to be a stranger in my new dorm. I want to make good friendships with the guys I live with. I especially want to be a better writer. It's rather ridiculous when you're a Professional Writing major and in a very competitive field, yet you feel as though you haven't achieved much and you're at the bottom of your class, regardless of GPA.

I want to do something, affect someone. I want to know that I have made a difference in people's lives. I want to know that I'm a good writer, not because my friends and family say so, but because it is true. Honestly I want to somehow land a writing contract. I want to have more than a few dozen people read my writing and then get letters telling me that what I wrote made some sort of difference. Well, I'm being brutally honest, I guess.

I want to land a job! I want to go out and get a job based on my merit, and not based on whose son I am. While it worked wonderfully at camp, it doesn't work in the real world. I want to be independent.

And since I'm on the brutal honesty track, I'll go ahead and just say it: I want to please my dad. I want him to be proud of me. Instead of hearing him remind me that I need to be better and work harder, I want to hear him tell me that he's proud of what I've done. And I want to be found worthy to him.

Don't get me wrong. My dad is a wonderful man. He loves me greatly. He supports me. I love him almost more than anything! God obviously has to come first, but it still remains. He is an awesome man I'm proud to call my father.

But last year I didn't do very well, and my dad has reminded me many times that we still struggle financially just for me to go to Taylor University. (Curse my idiotic ambition.) I want to make him proud this year, to hear him tell me that I've done well. I don't want to disappoint him.

However, finding out that you weren't selected for one of two available jobs you applied for really puts a cramp in those wishes. Dad and I both know how much I need a job, and how much I want to avoid working in the Dining Commons.And I haven't heard anything at all about the second job, leaving me intensely fearful about my chances.


So right now, I'm looking to God, telling Him about these desires. I want to please Him too, and well, I feel like I might not be doing well at that. I want to honor Him and my earthly father, but I'm not sure how well I will. I am really afraid I'll fail.


I have to remember to ask God for strength. Though I can't seem to get it through my logical mind, I know in my soul that if I try to make these changes, be this "better" person I hope to be all on my own, I'll fail. I will trip in the race of life and give the ground a very dirty, bloody hug. (Also known as a "face-plant".) Somehow, someway, if I will just trust God, His plan in me will be fulfilled. I pray that I live up to His plan.


Holy is He and worthy of praise.

Joyful Souls

Hey all. I know I haven't written in a while. Lousy internet can mess with you like that. That and trying to pack and get ready for College: Year Two.

It's been a little bumpy trying to get ready and be ready this year. This year I have a few more pressures I have to deal with. I am financially forced to get a job this semester. Where I will work I don't know, but I need to work somewhere. I have to make sure I get many scholarships so I can come back next year. I am starting a few new courses of study, in which I do not know any of my classmates. I have to find classes, balance life, school, and work. I have to find balance in my social life, and jump start my spiritual life again, which has unfortunately started falling behind everything else.

And, having moved to a different dorm, I have many new people I need to meet, get to know, and, well, get used to. I have to adjust to the loss of some of my graduated friends while figuring out who the new freshmen are. Not easy for an introvert. Not only that, I have to figure out the new group dynamics and try to adapt the the changes I'll inevitably find in my friendships and friends. 

Now, there was a reason I just listed all of that stuff. I felt (and still feel a little) pressured. I was scared coming back to Taylor University. So scared I was almost sick. I forced myself to stomach food--and to make sure I didn't see it again. I felt small and puny leaving home.

But, as I grew closer to school, closer to TU, the more excited I became. It got to the point where the car couldn't go fast enough to get me there (thankfully, I wasn't driving). And finally when I got here, I found friends all over. Friends who rushed to see me, who were delighted to find me, and who made me feel extremely loved. And this was mostly at the all-campus communion. I went back to my dorm room, and I ran for joy, even clicked my heels a few times. It was so overwhelming I barely restrained myself from screaming just to let it out.

And as the joy settled in, the fear loosened it's grip. Joy is more powerful than fear, just like Light is infinitely more powerful than darkness.So, for now, while the year is still daunting, I can face it with joy, knowing how loved I am.

While I was running,though, I thought, "Is this something like heaven?" What can I say, I'm a Christian, and I can't help thinking about these things. But it does seem like it. I was so filled with joy,. I saw friends I knew and people I knew had yet to meet. And we came together to worship the King, the reason for our fellowship. So I couldn't really help making the comparison.

Even better, I was reminded of God's faithfulness. He has seen me through so far, and He will never let me go. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me, Phillipians 4:13. (NKJV?)

Holy is the Lord, and I will praise Him for His wonderful works and loving kindness.

Images and Reality

Hey all. I know I’m late again. This time I have a small excuse. I had to work the last few days, so writing my blog slipped my mind. And my mother’s birthday caught me unprepared, so I was scrambling for that too. Now, I bet it might not seem very important to most of you readers whether or not I post by a certain time, but it’s important to me. I started this blog as a writing discipline, so I need to work on being more disciplined.

However, I did not come to write about that. I did come to write about life. And I’ll admit, I’m writing about my life. So far, it’s the best tool for finding writing material I’ve found. So here goes….

These days, I’ve really been missing my friends from college. And as much as I try to control it, it seems at times to get only worse. It’s been driving me nuts as I try to figure out why I can’t control it. Usually, I’m better at keeping my emotions under control, but these won’t be tamed. And it’s taken me a while of simply talking with myself to figure some of the problem out. Yes Talking with yourself can be a good thing, because the longer you talk to yourself and express what you wouldn’t dare say in front of anyone else, you dig down and discover the problem.

So the problem is that I miss experiencing the reality of my friends. I know, that seems like a no-brainer. I already said I miss my friends. But it’s more than just missing them. I can interact with them on Facebook, email, and Skype. I can text them to share funny things with them. But that doesn’t give me any fulfillment. I miss the reality of them.

I miss seeing their faces. I miss hearing their voices. I miss the smells, the laughs, the fun.  I miss having ridiculous conversations full of inside jokes. I miss hearing stories about things both serious and humorous. I miss staying up late watching movies or praying with people I love, and who, for some unfathomable reason, love me too.

(Now, warning, I might get a little preachy here.)

Facebook can’t and won’t replace real relationships, despite what so many people fear. The fact is that it isn’t real enough to replace people. And that is what I miss.

Right now, all I have inside are images of my friends. I say “images” kind of borrowing from C.S. Lewis’ A Grief Observed. He talks about how all he seems to have left of his wife is his image of her. But that image is inferior to the real her. And I have to say the same about my own images, my own memories.

What I think and what I remember is a pale reflection of the real people I long for. Memories and images don’t work in reality. I can manipulate the images, move them however I want, warp my view of a person until they become who I want them to be. Memories I can speed up, slow down, fast forward and reverse, like a video. Again I can manipulate that.

I can’t manipulate people the way I do images. They don’t fit into the holes I create for them. They aren’t the shiny or sooty things I warp the images to be. I have to deal with people as they are. Their fallacies, their desires, their humor, their joys. I can’t create that in my mind. I can only remember. I can change my memory, but it doesn’t match reality. Reality has to be superior. Not because reality supersedes imagination, but because it is deeper, richer, and more vibrant than my paltry imagination can conceive.

So no matter how advanced computers become, they can’t replace people. No matter how good of an imagination I have, I cannot imagine reality. I guess that’s another reason God is so amazing. He can create reality from His imagination. He can conceive all our layers, our depth. He knows us intimately and doesn’t have to worry about dealing with images that don’t match the real person.  He made the real one.

Thankfully He gave me people I actually miss, and who I know care about me. For now I must wait and long for them until we meet again. But God is good. He loves me, and will sustain me.

Holy is He; my soul praises is holy Name.