unmoored

Honesty has something to do with faith. I don't know what.

I am tired of answers. Most of the answers I ever had have failed me, and I am young and lucky. These days I simply live between near-despair and wild-flying hope, holding both inside me as a prayer for the world and also for me. I think that hope wins out where there is laughter.

Faith is a thing you do one day at a time, I do know this, but when I say it to myself it is hollow and the child inside me cries and rails against the thought. It is especially when I find myself unexpectedly alone, and fear settles in the deep pit between my stomach and my spine. No one will love you, says fear, and grace seems a distant happening for other people.

Something like faith continues out of habit, and I hope it is something like good enough.

"It seemed like you sort of found your identity in him."

My friend's words nearly knocked the wind out of me. I had worked hard, for two and a half years, to keep my identity separate from his, to do what I wanted and not to get subsumed into the relationship bubble that has sucked friend after friend out of my life. I have always had my own identity, thank you.

And yet, now that I've left, where have I gone?

There's something about knowing someone else finds you beautiful to the core, something that makes it easy to believe. But then it's not your own faith.

It turns out there is surprisingly little I know about myself. I'm an idealist and a cynic; I have no patience for small talk; I take charge of things because I can't stand to see them done "wrong". I like gummy bears and chicken fingers of all kinds, but only the best chocolate and coffee will do. I want the best from myself, every day and at all times; I'm awfully self-conscious and I think that's silly. I depend on my friends more than most people do and I am terrified, absolutely terrified, to leave them and make new ones, then leave them and make new ones.

I want to take big risks and I'm passionate about too many things to "just do it". Just do what? Travel the whole entire world or stay in Cleveland, at Havenplace? Start teaching improv to inner city teenagers or open a vintage clothing store? Peace Corps? Or one of a thousand really neat nonprofits that will let me work for them if I'll just do them the favor of begging my own airfare and living costs off of my friends and family?

For right now, exams and papers and responsibilities galore, plenty to do while the back half of my brain fills itself with a million little fears and doubts, possibilities and impossible desires, always whispering six months to May...

Questions I Ask Myself when Considering the Future

A world much like Earth, from a cloistered monk's perspective: "The work that people did had been broken down into jobs that were the same every day, in organizations where people were interchangeable parts. All of the story had been bled out of their lives. That was how it had to be; it was how you got a productive economy. But it would be easy to see a will at work behind this: not exactly an evil will, but a selfish will. The people who'd made the system thus were jealous, not of money and not of power but of story. If their employees came home at day's end with interesting stories to tell, it meant that something had gone wrong: a blackout, a strike, a spree killing. The Powers That Be would not suffer others to be in stories of their own unless they were fake stories that had been made up to motivate them." - Neal Stephenson, Anathem

On Earth, the real Earth, might not there Be Powers that are jealous of story, but not for the sake of anyone's safety? Perhaps a selfish will is an evil will; perhaps an evil will is working every day to convince us to accept safety, productivity, prosperity as barely adequate substitutes for adventure, joy, and real contentment. Couldn't every act of submission to the status quo count for a small victory on the side of the hopeless, and shouldn't we who have hope be the most outrageously daring of any?

What have you done lately that would have been impossible, absent the power of Christ? How have you reimagined the "story" scripted for you by those who do not love you?

Does conviction require coercion?

The same conversation, three times in one day:

Religion and Culture - what makes religions come into such violent conflict?

Systematic Theology - how do you do apologetics in a postmodern world?

Stuff Christians Like - what does "redeeming culture" mean? how is that connected to evangelism?

Religions spawn violence because they are non-negotiable. The whole point of religion is to tell you what things are most important. The best way to avoid violence is to compromise, and a deeply-held religion brooks no compromise.

Apologetics in a postmodern world has to abandon the idea that truth is the best thing we have to offer the world. Postmoderns are not looking for truth; they are looking for individual freedom and fulfillment. The best thing we have to offer them is respect for their individuality, and the opportunity, when sought, to escape the tyranny of self.

Redeeming culture literally means to "buy it back." It doesn't mean replacing or ignoring or accepting culture. It means transforming culture. We all contribute to the world in different ways; our contributions must bear Christ's image.

The reason these questions seem so puzzling is because, as Christians, we have a terribly difficult time seeing anything from outside of our perspective, so that often we never even consider that someone else's priorities and assumptions may differ from ours. We like to talk about Christ "meeting us where we are." We don't like to talk about meeting others where they are. We talk about "culture wars" when really, the vast majority of non-Christians aren't trying to fight anyone; so we try to drag people over to our side when what they need is someone to tend their wounds. This is simply another manifestation of religious violence borne out of an inability to allow others their choices. Instead, we must prayerfully and patiently exhibit Christ's love to the world with such beauty and strength and calm conviction that our lives become the final, undeniable proof of His supernatural grace.

Changing the world and such

Me and my blog went through a bit of a crisis.

Yes, it is early in our relationship, but I have already been spending the last several weeks reevaluating. I started the blog because I was bored, and I like to write, but also I think somewhere deep in my mind there was a desire to be this famous blogger, shaping the thoughts and opinions of the world.

That's super ridiculous, right?

It can become a narcissistic thing so quickly. Assuming the world wants to read your thoughts, but especially expecting the world to respond. So I needed to give it a break. I needed to not really care about it, so that I could care about it in the right way.

All that to say, I still want to write and I still want to put it somewhere for people to see. But I'm not going to be that blog guy on facebook. I'm not going to watch my stats five or six times a day. I'm not a blogger. I'm a writer with an occasional need for an outlet. And you're welcome to participate.

My, My (How the Tables Have Turned)

Amidst my aimless wanderings about the internet, I came across this website, which was part of the inspiration for my last post. What you do if you have an account is, you "pin" things to your "board," which is to say, you post pictures of things you like on your page.

At its best, the site is a big bulletin board of inspiration for DIY ideas and blog posts about how happy you are (see below). At worst Most of the time, it is a whole entire website devoted to coveting things. Apparently everyone on this site is an American female, so almost everything falls into one of these categories: clothes, baby animals, food, home decorating ideas, having a perfect body, beautiful men.

But it's so insidious. "ooh, chocolate cake"; "maybe I could make that dress"; "that sunset makes me want to get out my camera"... somehow turns into, "wow, not fair"; "I have to have that"; "how come I'm not that creative?", and you never even notice. The other night I was just passing some time scrolling down the page, oblivious to the fact that I was soaking up all the covetousness and self-indulgence and desire for things of the world that were ever-so-stealthily being promoted here. Something reminded me of a vintage website I love, and all of a sudden this post was on facebook:

"if someone buys these earrings before i think of a good excuse...
[yes, they're really cheap. no, i don't have ANY money.]"

Can we talk about this? I mean, apart from the fact that these T-rex earrings are [still] fantastic. But what really honestly scares me is how quickly I turned into an awful, grasping, whining child pulling Oreos off the grocery store shelves even though there are already cookies in the cart.

No one likes those kids. And I don't like me when I'm threatening unknown virtual shoppers for "stealing" my potential purchase, and whining about how "poor" I am when actually I own at least 30 pairs of earrings, and doing so all over facebook as if other people should care how much I want to own T-rex earrings.

[it's still a lot.]

Maybe this is why the Bible talks about being "always on your guard," and "shrewd as snakes but gentle as doves," and "in the world but not of the world." Tall orders, Paul. and Jesus. Tall orders. I never meant to absorb others' patterns of discontentment and general brattiness. It just kind of... happened.

T-rex earrings: super cool. Oreo-grubbing toddler-Lyndsey: still working on the whole "discipleship" thing.

Have you ever forgotten to influence the world around you... because you were busy being influenced by it?

Beautiful

Having been at home doing glorious amounts of nothing this week, I've spent a lot of time surfing blogs in complete aimlessness, looking for craft ideas and lovely old things on etsy, knitting, and playing around with crafty things and hot glue (adventurous, yes? I could sustain a minor burn at any moment).

And with friends' engagement pictures going up on facebook, pretty things lovingly made waiting to be found on etsy, rain outside and coffee inside, I am struck by the beauty of the world rediscovered, things well-created, people surprised by joy. There is life and grace and art here, now, and the only proper thing to do in response is to be inspired by these things to create them ourselves.

[ring that took my breath away]

[why don't i live in the 50's?]

[a friend's photo]

"We do things well out of duty.

We do them beautifully out of love."

May I live life beautifully.