over the rainbow

Writer's Conference and Calling

2008-09-27T08:56:00.001-07:00

This was my first writer's conference; and I pitched my novel to two agents, and the very first pitch, I felt like I was going to choke on my own nervousness. I survived that one, and the agent was very sweet. Fortunately I wasn't as nervous about my second pitch, which was good because that one didn't go so well.

When I told him the length of my fantasy, he proceeded to enlighten me on how the fantasy market works, how difficult it is to break into, and how, if my story is just a story about characters, I should set it in Victorian England instead of a fantasy world (as though a sense of place and story means nothing to me). Well, this got me quite angry, and quite determined that if the fantasy market is indeed as boxed-in as he says it is then it is time for somebody to try something different, like short fantasies that are actually readable by the average Americans rather than the heavy-handed technical jargon that is on the fantasy shelves of Barnes and Noble--suitable only to the diehards.

With that in mind, I am beginning my second short fantasy, and hope to write two before my next conference so that when I again meet with a protesting agent, I can at least come across as serious, if a little idealistic!

a new post

2008-09-24T11:49:00.000-07:00

Well, folks, it's time. I'm a writer, after all. Why is it that for months and months I can't seem to organize my thoughts enough to post even a little something?

The answer is a good one. I have written a novel. And pitched it to two agents (although one of them, when he heard that my novel was not one of those 300-page fantasies you see on bookstore shelves, didn't want to hear my pitch). And, after that intriguing experience, was motivated to write another two novels.

Pitching was not successful; I have not had any requests for manuscripts. But I love writing, and I believe that the now small and unpopular fantasy market needs a face-lift--books that are readable by ordinary people like me, books like Lewis's Chronicles of Narnia, or space trilogy. Books to be read and enjoyed, rather than waded and suffered through. And if I never get a publisher for the kind of fantasies I intend to write, at least I know I will always have an interested reader in Eddie!

I'm back!

2008-03-12T11:44:00.000-07:00

I finally figured out how to access my account after all this switching over to Google nonsense. Unfortunately (or fortunately, however you look at it) my husband just walked into the library sporting his new contacts and I have an appointment to get my eyes checked in a half-hour. Sorry all my faithful readers. Tis the sad price of good vision.

2007-09-20T15:14:00.000-07:00

I have become such a social butterfly. It all started in college when I found myself twenty-four-seven with girls my own age that I had a lot in common with. And now it seems that if I don't get together socially at least three times a week, I have somehow been abandoned, neglected, or misused. Ah, the sad writing career of a socialite!

Happiness

2007-07-19T15:49:00.000-07:00

I am blogging because I am happy (not, like so many of my past blogs, because I have a complaint about the weather or busyness or whatever). I look back over the past year of marriage and I could not imagine being happier. Were there any hard moments? I don't remember them. Do we still have many years of struggle ahead? Perhaps, but in all hardships the love of God is far-reaching.

Our pastor once said that we don't hope in the Lord like we should--instead we play the odds. "I had a good day yesterday, now I'm going to have a bad day." Or, "This last year has been so great, it's about time for me to suffer some." Why don't we just trust that He will give us "strength for today, bright hope for tomorrow"?

I am thrilled at what the future may hold. I could try to "prepare" myself for future trials by dwelling on all the possible combinations of bad things that might happen to me. But wouldn't that stifle the joy that the Lord has given me today? What delight to know that the Lord is sovereign, gracious, and merciful.

2007-05-09T15:07:00.000-07:00

Well, I always heard other people say "I couldn't do without so-and-so in my life--she changed me so much and made me the person that I am today!" I always scoffed and thought, "pish posh, my own mother's good enough for that." Besides, I'm a product of my culture--I can make my own way in the world without anybody's help or advice.

But I look back this Mother's Day and realize how much I have changed in past years; I have faced big decisions that I couldn't make on my own, I have married when I thought I would be single forever, I have lost friends that I thought I would keep and gained others back that I thought I had lost. And I've come to realize that, corny as it sounds, I couldn't do without the mentors in my life.

Thank you Mom, for everything.
Thank you Mom M, for accepting me into your family and treating me like a daughter.
Thank you Beth, for helping me make one of the biggest decisions of my life (I'm so glad I didn't graduate!)
Thank you Jewel, for your example of grace and truth in marriage.
Thank you Ruth, for your wisdom, firmness, and kindness.
Thank you to the women of my church, for modelling maturity, submission, and the awsome calling of being a woman.

There, I've said it. I couldn't do it on my own.

Same old, same old

2007-02-14T13:51:00.000-08:00

Every time I endeavor to post, I end up saying the same things. The weather's cold, marriage is great, writing has been slow. So what?

Life has been so wonderful; I realized this as I was writing my husband's Valentine card today. I couldn't imagine being happier, and there's nothing more that I want. Perhaps I am where Harriet Vane was in "Thrones, Dominations:" when life is in the midst of despair (or at least frustration, or tiredness, or angst) then writing seems to come so naturally. Deep thoughts are quick to spring to the mind; and we rarely sound more eloquent than when we are complaining. But when it comes to writing about happiness, somehow we sound trite, fake; as though the way we are living now could not possibly represent "reality."

But my reality is glorious. I am tired, and keeping house takes more time than I thought possible; but I crawl into bed at night with my husband and we stay up for hours talking about everything--politics, religion, where we want to plant flowers in the yard. And we watch Alfred Hitchcock and Sherlock Holmes and are silly together.

I am content for my deep thoughts to take a hit; and who knows, perhaps one of these days I'll actually figure out how to write a story that ends happily!

xanga on, xanga off.

2006-11-07T16:20:00.000-08:00

Well, after a brief stint on xanga, I was again restricted from accessing at the library. Alas. But at least in that brief interval I got my fill of dating, breaking-up, pregnancy, and other news from the outside world.

Right now my world revolves around a baby (not my own!), and an english student that I'm tutoring, and a few miscellaneous stories that will one day become what I want them to become. I never realized how tiring babies are: I watch him less than five hours a day, and I'm beat, with neither energy nor motivation to write, make dinner, post on blogs, or any of the other things that make life so interesting.

Perhaps that is why this short blog is so haphazard. Perhaps I shall search the blogs that I am allowed to access for someone else's deep thoughts.

2006-08-21T16:40:00.000-07:00

Eddie and I, in an attempt to be culturally relavant, tried to read The DaVinci Code--recommended by librarians, coworkers, and Americans in general. We made it to chapter six, before we threw it down in disgust: not because of a wierd worldview, though there is that, and not because of a lack of historical accuracy, though there is that. No, rather, we just about gagged on the writing, which showed a serious lack of literary talent.

Not only did Brown make up words by adding "ly" indiscriminately, but he used nary a strong verb or noun in the entire six chapters. Rather, every one of his sentences contained at least one (and usually about twenty!) adjectives and adverbs. My husband is not much of a reader, and this book drove even him crazy (you can imagine that it drove me, a former English major, completely insane).

I am concerned for America's soul, concerned that she shows far too much similarity to the ancient Romans (who after swearing to follow Brutus to the death, turned on him after a rousing speech by Antony), concerned that she can't tell right from wrong to save her life. But I am also concerned by her total lack of literacy, not just in being unable to write well, but in being completely incapable of knowing terrible writing when she sees it. Americans are not stupid all the time, but when it comes to chosing which books to put on the bestseller list, they show themselves remarkably illiterate.

Sometimes my husband and I will be browsing through books at Barnes and Noble when we come across one that is very badly writen. We remark to each other (just loudly enough to be heard by interested eavesdroppers), "Oh boy, this author's trying to pull a Dan Brown!"

2006-06-19T12:05:00.000-07:00

It isn't so different, really. Maybe because it's been so long coming. We got back from our honeymoon and fell into the ordinary, and the ordinariness of marriage is wonderful. We are ourselves, the selves that we fell in love with in the first place--though I thought that the moment I got married I would suddenly be someone else (more mature? stronger? more romantic?). I am still Amy; I am his Amy, but I am still the Amy that I always was.

Maybe it's the novelty that makes everything ordinary so extraordinary. Making meals takes on its own spiritual quality, making the bed, vacuuming the carpet. I have always loved cooking and cleaning; but somehow doing it for him (and seeing the expression in his eyes when he gets home from a long day of work to find a meal on the table) makes it all so much better.

I don't know what I expected (how do you really anticipate a change so great that you become another's? The two shall become one?); but it certainly is much better than I'd hoped. You read all the marriage books; and pretty soon you start thinking that this thing is going to be so much work you'd better get out of it now. And so I approached marriage with this understanding that everything was going to be three times as difficult. But after three weeks it hasn't been so very difficult, and the tiffs are much the same as they were before we were married. And the future is unknown before me but I do know that I have made my choice and it was a good one.

He makes a good husband.

2006-05-24T14:39:00.001-07:00

Life is deliciously enjoyable. Thick summer air, delightful conversations with old friends, and the promise that in a few days I will have a new last name (with, of course, all the name-changing stress that brings with it; still and all, I like the new one better).

Oh the joy and delight that comes with watching the Lord provide and resting on his impeccable timing. I spout platitudes about having faith and trusting in the Lord, and I really do try to believe that I mean it; but somehow, I feel like "mere" faith is a cop-out, a lazy-man's excuse for sitting back and doing nothing. But He works despite my doubt, and I find myself saying "Lord I believe, help thou mine unbelief"--believe not only in his power, but also in his goodness in choosing the path and the time that is best.

2006-05-24T14:39:00.000-07:00

2006-05-17T09:09:00.000-07:00

A wedding in a week-and-a-half.

It was far away and I was just a newly dating freshman in college, thinking that dating was the biggest thing that could happen to me; and suddenly here I am about to walk down the aisle, proud owner of a house and a husband. And pretty soon we will be an old married couple, laughing at the foibles of those "cute young couples."

Don't have any deep thought left in my head with all the wedding planning; I just think that the passage of time is remarkable for it's swift steady movement forward, without concern for what I think are the biggest moments of my life.

2006-04-06T15:59:00.000-07:00

My generation is screaming for authenticity.

So far the conversations at work have expressed contempt for:
1. people who like bands just because they're popular
2. people who have personalized license plates
3. people who wear thrift store clothing to look cool
4. people who wear name-brand clothing to look cool
5. people who voted for Bush (I am the lone Republican, but I don't usually make that known).
6. people who (fill in the blank)

Basically anyone who doesn't behave or think exactly like them, and people that do behave and think exactly like them for the wrong reason (to look cool).

And yet beneath all this, there is a desperate plea for standards that transcend their own opinions. They want a higher moral standard; they want some justification for condemning those people that they don't like. But they have only standards they've created for themselves--vague assertions that you should do things because you want to and not because you're supposed to.

Oh to be authentic and truth-filled enough to overcome their barriers.

a real post

2006-03-14T12:08:00.000-08:00

Yes, folks, you heard that right. Amy is actually going to post on her blog. Get ready, here is comes . . .

Life is coming at me all at once these days, and I keep wondering if the insane busyness is going to get better after the wedding. I don't want to put off living until after May 27th, but it just seems so hard to keep track of everything that must be done. If I write or read, then I feel guilty for not taking care of more pressing matters; when I am at work, I want to be home writing and reading. Perhaps this is how I will be for the rest of my life; I suppose I'd better work out a system now for getting everything done.

I'm looking forward to having a house that is exclusively Ours. I can't wait to decorate, and he's going to let me have free reign. I'm looking forward to writing without major distractions (it is hard to find silence in a house where six people still live), and to welcoming my husband home from work with a steaming pot of food that I shopped for and planned myself. I'm looking forward to not having to say "good-bye" when we say "goodnight," to being able sign my checks "Mrs. MacCready," to seeing his face when I walk down the aisle. I'm tired of waiting!

I come down to Bryan again in a week-and-a-half, for a bridal shower. I have to run to work right now. Sorry for such a fragmented post, but at least I posted!

2006-03-01T12:54:00.001-08:00

Thanks, alaiyo, for positively ruining a potentially productive time at the library--now I'm stuck picking only seven favorite songs!

1. Of Minor Prophets and their Prostitute Wives (Pedro the Lion)--though not very musically complex, this song hits me every time with the pursuing grace of my Father.

2. Separate Ways (Journey)--because it is so much fun to bang out on the drums

3. What Wondrous Love is This

4. God Thou Art Love (Craig Courtney arraingment)--both because it comes from a Robert Browning poem, and because it made me cry every time I sang it for chorale. Abundant joy in the love of the Father, and yet a recognition that all is not well on this earth.

5. Will you still love me? (Chicago)--mainly because I'm sappy and I'm getting married soon.

6. Don't Dream it's Over (Sixpence None the Richer)--because this is the song that my then-husband and I will be walking down the aisle to after we are married; what can I say, my mind revolves around the wedding these days.

7. The Blitz (from the Narnia Soundtrack)--because it has a violin sequence that I just love; and because I can't think of a really good 7th choice.

I swear I'll post something really thoughtful and deep soon--don't worry.

homecoming

2006-01-20T11:47:00.000-08:00

Oh for words to capture the ache and longing of returning. I am here at Bryan, and everything is the same (save some unsightly construction)--and yet it is not the same. I am not the same. I sit on the porch of the cafe and look out over these mountains that I love, that were once so familiar to me; and yet they are not familiar anymore. I am an observer now, not a participant. I may sit in classes, but it is as a stranger. I may talk to friends and professors, but I am now a stranger to most of them. They may profess delight in seeing me, but they have other lives that no longer involve me.

Where is home? "Where the heart is," goes the cliche; but my heart is here, and this is not home. My home is with Eddie, soon. My home is with my parents, now. I am a displaced person. I am a wanderer, hanging in limbo between three homes that I love so much. I will never here find satisfaction. I will always long and ache for the place where I am not. Perhaps this is God's way of making me long and ache for Him.

you got me

2006-01-19T13:27:00.000-08:00

Four movies you could watch over and over:
12 Angry Men
Narnia (though I have to cover my eyes at the scary parts)
Mansfield Park
Pride and Prejudice (though I admit, I'm on a P&P fast because I watched it too many times)

Four places you have lived:
Dayton, Tenn
Green Bay, WI
(that's all!)

Four TV shows you love to watch:
The Mole (it's not on anymore)
Extreme Home Makeover
The Amazing Race
American Idol

Four places you have been on vacation:
Glacier National Park in Montana
Houston, TX
Around Lake Michigan
South Dakota

Four websites you daily visit (besides blogs):
Realtor.com (oh the joys of househunting)
Foxnews
Townhall (when I remember to check for a new Coulter column)

Four of your favorite foods:
Macaroni and Cheese (homemade, of course)
Fettucini con Polo (from the European Cafe where I work)
Twice-baked Potatoes with a side of moist turkey
Strawberry Lemonade from the Olive Garden (I realize it's not a food; it's still my favorite)

Four places you would rather be right now:
Sorry to cop-out, but I'd rather not be anywhere else than I am right here right now (at Bryan College visiting for a few days). If pressed, however, I would have to answer, "on a honeymoon with my husband;" which of course won't happen until we get married in four months.

Four bloggers you are tagging:
I realize I've copped out on most of the questions so far, but I'm afraid all the bloggers I know have already been tagged. Sorry. But what of that? If I tag you again, will you have to fill this out again, and give different answers?

"Snowstorm Amy"

2005-12-14T13:16:00.000-08:00

Yes, this one is so good it's named after me! It is supposed to snow for the next three days straight. Not that this means I will get out of work, just that the drive to work will be much more interesting than it has been lately.

With that in mind, I must brave the treacherous roads even now.

I do love Wisconsin winters! So much more convincing than the piddly Tennessee snows, which consist of two snowflakes or so.

2005-11-11T10:50:00.000-08:00

Well these days I've fallen off the face of the social earth. That's why my blog has been so uninteresting lately (unless you're into rereading old posts, there really isn't much to see here). And the general trend is not about to change! Don't be delusioned into thinking that suddenly Amy's going to start posting twice a day, now that she's gotten her life back together.

I don't profess to be busy (though I've been working quite an awful lot with the holidays coming upon us). I just profess to be too preoccupied to go to the library and post, or too fuddled to actually think of anything to write.

With that, I must sprint off to work. Take care, all of my dear ones. Trust that soon and very soon, I might reappear in your lives when you least expect it!

2005-10-15T10:10:00.000-07:00

finally it is official. And the peoples rejoiced, and all were glad. After months of dely, doubt, frustration, and even denial, we are to everyone's satisfaction officially engaged. More details, I'm sure, will follow (they always do); but for now, we are walking around on clouds of bliss.

blessing vs. comfort

2005-10-07T13:01:00.000-07:00

I was thinking today on how I'm unwilling to ask God for an abundant life because I am afraid that it will interfere with my comfort. I want my comfort as opposed to God's abundant blessing. I want to avoid suffering at all costs, even if suffering will bring me to where God wants me to be.

I read recently that Chinese Christians are praying that the American Church would begin to experience persecution, so that it will grow stronger. And I unconciously trembled, thinking "I don't want that! No, please don't pray for that!" I don't want God to use me, if it means that I must suffer. In fact, I realized today, I don't really even want his blessing if it comes with suffering. I am content to lead a mediocre, half-starved life; perpetually comfortable, and perpetually motionless.

I have been fighting this, praying that the Lord would make me willing to do whatever for his glory and the furthering of his kingdom. But I fear I am not yet strong enough to pray for suffering, instead praying timidly for God to help me to desire abundant life.

Lord give me the strength to pray boldly for suffering, for your glory revealed in me, for your consuming fire to burn me so that I can be a flame that others will see.

On Dreams

2005-09-24T08:12:00.000-07:00

I just read a post from an aquaintance who is studying at the English L'Abri, and my heart was filled with longing. Was it longing for England, or for studying at L'Abri, or for being able to sound intellectual, or for deliciously deep conversations? I don't know. All I know is that right now, I am where God wants me to be, and to pursue my fancies--chasing all over the world in search of that thing which will make me happy--would be the most frightful disobedience (and probably wouldn't even be as much fun as I imagined).

What dreams are just fancies, and what are God-planted visions? How am I to distinguish what I want from what He wants? I will wait on Him until He takes me elsewhere, but I don't want to be so ensconced in my own comfort that I ignore His leading voice and those dreams that He has given me. I can only plead wisdom to live in the moment, to be faithful in this time and place, and to see His hand directing me.

2005-09-08T16:20:00.000-07:00

I love living in De Pere. I walk a half-mile to my job at a local cafe (which, may I say, if you're ever in De Pere, that is the place to stop. Delicious food.) and then when I finish work walk across the street to the library where my mom works, and pass the office building where my brother works, and then take my blessed time walking home along the river. It's almost like a fairy-tale; how, pray tell, could life get any better.

Sorry, no deep thoughts today. Just immense thankfulness at God's continued faithfulness. I have five (count them--five) odd jobs (mostly babysitting, but all pretty regular), and still have time to write many hours a day. Just another of God's continual affirmations that I am where He wants me to be.

--and I get to bring home delicious pastries from the cafe every day!--

observations (not related to camp)

2005-08-24T10:59:00.000-07:00

one thing I love about Wisconsin: Since coming home from college, I've been more aware of the clouds in Wisconsin--they come in layers. At the very top, nearest the sky, is a sheet of flat, gray clouds. Below that are whispy white clouds. And at the bottom, hovering near the earth, are the fluffy marshmallow cotton-candy clouds. Sometimes there is no top sheet--just blue sky between the lower white clouds. And sometimes the clouds all move in different directions, or the lower ones move faster than the top ones. I didn't realize how much I love Wisconsin clouds (or how different they are from clouds everywhere else) until I lived in Tennessee for two years where it is either all overcast or all sunny.

one thing I think is funny: As I was biking down the bike trail to the library, I saw two women walking side by side both talking on cell phones. I found it amusing, as I always do, that the people far away from us are more important to us than the people right near us.

one this I've noticed about myself: I am suffering from the most incredible writer's block. Not only can I not write, but I can't even stand to read things I've written in the past. My style has been warped by living at camp for three months. Add to that, I forbade myself from working on my stories all summer, because I wanted to focus on camp and not feel guilty for not writing. So it's being rather a pain getting back into writing and remembering how to fit words together (even remembering all my favorite and most-used words).

musings

2005-08-23T11:23:00.000-07:00

I am back from camp, and trying to wrap my mind around all of the things that God has taught me. There has been so much; I'll try to condense it for you in the next few postings of mine.

I had a tendency before this summer to think that camp was perfect. I would hang out with friends, spend time resting in God's sovereignty, and see campers come to know Christ--what a rewarding way to spend a summer. So as I began to approach my summer as waterfront director, I was thinking "well, what could possibly go wrong? Sure, it'll be hard" (always a hypothetical and distant kind of hardness) "but it will still be fun and amazing."

Well, I've learned not to ever say "what could go wrong?" When I depend upon circumstances for my happiness and security, God always proves to me that I need him more than anything else. This was, I can easily say, one of the hardest summers of my life.

Getting back to camp after so many months absense was enjoyable--but during staff training, I was already clashing with the one staff member who was going to be lifeguarding all summer. I saw her as a threat to my superiority as waterfront director; she saw that I didn't trust her, and was offended. Throughout the summer, God used her to show me myself; in our continual power-struggles, I saw my own need to be right, to be first, to be in charge. Toward the end of the summer, I finally got the picture and began to let go of my desire to be in control; at last, lifeguarding wasn't a continual stress.

Ultimately, the most difficult parts of the summer were brought about by my own sinfulness. Oh we are so quick to rely upon ourselves. I approached this summer thinking "well, clearly I'm the only possibly candidate good enough to be waterfront director. And heck, they even wanted me to be an RA. Of course I can do this job." Oh this cursed self-sufficiency. Well, God quickly broke my independence this summer, to everybody's satisfaction!

Hope things are going well down at Bryan. I do miss being there in the midst of everything, but I am so thankful God has led me to be home this year. I will write more on the college questions later. Take care, to all of my faithful readers. And welcome back, Megan--it's good to hear from you.

2005-08-10T10:00:00.000-07:00

I wanted to post briefly before I run down to the picnic grove for lunch: to whatever dear faithful readers I may have, I have not forgotten you! The summer is coming to a blessed close, and in a week or to I will write a lengthy update on all of the hundreds of things God has taught me. So much I have had to learn in difficult ways; God has stretched my knowledge of myself and of Himself, and I have learned more clearly how infinitely I must trust in him for my very breath.

That's all for now.

book questionnaire

2005-06-20T14:49:00.000-07:00

1. Total number of books owned:

I have five with me here at camp, and at home I have two boxes and several shelf-fulls, not counting all my school books. Plus, I'm sure my mother has a few of mine on her library shelves. I'm afraid I can't very fully answer this question right now.

2. Last books we've bought:

I bought Faust at McKay's recently with every intention of reading it--it intimidates me, but when I ed it open I was pretty enthralled.

Also at McKay's (I'll miss that store!), "My Utmost for His Highest," "The House of Seven Gables," and a Wilke Collin's novel the name of which I cannot remember.

I ordered a copy of "The Writer's Market"--I don't know if this counts as a "book," per se, but I certainly enjoyed it.

3. Last books I read:

Just recently finished "The Woman in White"--one of my favorites. I am currently in the middle of "Madame Bovary" (I'd wanted to finish it before camp started, but I couldn't), and "The Iliad" (lent me by a camp friend, in the hopes that I might have time to finish it). And I'm reading "My Utmost for His Highest."

4. Five books that mean a lot to me:

"Crime and Punishment," and "The Brothers Karamazov." Both insightful into human nature, and exploring themes that don't often get covered.

Flannery O'Connor's short stories. Inspired me to write my own short stories.

Dorothy L. Sayers' "Creed to Chaos." Such wisdom on the Christian life!

that's all I can think of right now!

5. Five people to whom to pass the baton:

Megan Sherrin, and anyone else who reads my blog.

2005-06-18T06:41:00.000-07:00

The struggle to be holy never ends, not even when I am in a supposedly "perfect" environment, not even when I have a titled position of authority, not even when I'm away from my family. Here I am at camp trying to figure out where I belong, feeling lonely, losing friendships, and unably to be holy on my own strength.

God give me grace and wisdom to be in charge without going on a power trip.

2005-05-23T11:03:00.000-07:00

My generation is leaving the church in droves--leaving because of hypocrisy, because of bad experiences, because frankly they can do a better job of it than some fifty-something seminarian who has no grasp on the real world. Their pastors don't understand the generation that goes to gay bars just to hang out with friends, the generation that wants authenticity above everything (or at least the appearance of authenticity), the generation that doesn't want to be looked down on because they are young. And so we leave the church, figuring that any kind of "fellowship" we might get isn't enough to make it worth our time. We value our own ideas; we have an opinion on every topic (and I speak from experience here), so anything a pastor can give us is only stuff we could figure out on our own.

So what is to be done? For without humility enough to accept fallen brothers and sisters in a church setting, my generation is rejecting the body of Christ. Screwtape, in a letter to Wormwood, tells him to stress in the new believer's mind the irksome habits of other Christians to get him to leave the church. Satan knows the power of grace-covered people meeting with other grace-covered people, for "where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I." And so he--effectively--does everything in his power to limit the power of the church over my generation. And only if we have humility enough to realize our own hypocrisy can we begin to show grace to our fellow brothers and sisters.

My plea to my generation is, don't give up on the church. Don't expect to be an effective Christian if you're going it alone. Don't be so concerned with reaching your culture that you fail to realize your own need for spiritual humility and for the teaching of men of God.

And my plea to the generation before me: don't condemn us without understanding us. Flee hypocrisy--we'd rather know you admit your flaws than have us find them out later. Talk to us and don't turn on us, measure everything you teach us by Scripture so that we can't find error in your teaching.

I wish there was a solution. I wish I knew how to act and what to say to make my generation understand the church's need for them and the world's need for the church. As my pastor said, the church will never understand my generation unless my generation is going to church. So I'll continue to go to church, and continue to speak truth to my generation, and pray for God's healing hand upon them both.

nothing to write

2005-05-16T12:28:00.000-07:00

It seems that the moment I step into the library with the intention of posting on my blog, all thoughts are gone from my head, my profoundness (what little of it there was) is gone, and I am left empty of ideas.

I have been poring over the Writer's Market Guide, finding a variety of publishers, and working frantically on my writing as I have been unable to do for the past six months. I had begun to doubt my writing abilities at the end of this school year, frustrated as I have been by the fact that I had no time to pursue what I love. But all my confidence in writing is restored unto me, and I have been able to spend several hours a day just writing thoughts and working on my novels.

I do sound pretentious writing all about novels and such as though I could actually presume to be an author. We shall see how it all turns out. I only know that I am not going to sit idly back and watch the world turn when my Master has called me to excellence. If these are not the plans God has for me, then he will make that evident to me in time.

I sound so confident in God's grace here, so detatched, and so able to submit. I am not really--I'm just good at faking it. Sometimes I arrogantly try to convince myself that I'm a better writer than anyone else, because that's what I want to do, and dang it--God should honor what I want to do, shouldn't he?

But I am working on having a heart of submission, a heart that desires to be used more than it desires to be on the cover of a book. I will ultimately (whether by my choice or his force) submit to the plans that he has for me--whether or not it's painful is my choice. But for now, I will keep doing what I know to do, writing what I know to write, and scribbling away lengthy and pretentious posts on my blog.

springtime

2005-05-09T12:52:00.000-07:00

It is springtime in Wisconsin--a second springtime for me, which I am relishing. It's hot, too--eighties--without any humidity. Yet another reason I love home; it's not, as everyone assumes, cold all year round, but it doesn't have the muggy heaviness of the Tennessee air.

I just biked down the bike trail to the library and am sitting in the air-conditioning thinking of how good it is to be home. Certainly, there are broken ideals (my brother and sister still fight, and my mom still gets impatient, whatever I may tell myself when I'm fourteen hours away); and certainly I am still under an obligation to work hard (mowed the lawn, am making dinner, tried to unpack); but I am home and my mind and body are at rest.

I just learned this semester that I am an introvert; and as much as I enjoy my friendships and my good conversations, they are both draining after awhile. I had come to the point in the semester where I was emotionally and physically exhausted. I despirately needed the rest of not having to impress anyone, or not having to make light conversation every dinner time.

All this to say that I am relieved to be home at last.

waterfront director

2005-05-03T09:13:00.000-07:00

Well, I got information on where I'll be working this summer. The waterfront director of a summer camp. Sounds prestigious, eh? And I couldn't go to sleep last night because I had so many ideas about how I'm going to run the waterfront, and how it's going to be the cleanest, most efficient waterfront ever, and I'm going to be in charge of everyone and probably won't even offend anyone, and it'll be hard but I'm up for the challenge. All these thoughts went through my head at 2 in the morning.

This summer will be hard. For all my idealism, I can accept this fact. I will have to adopt an attitude of humility toward people who are older than me that I am in charge of; and be willing to confess when my air of superiority has offended them. I will be responsible for everything running smoothly, and there will be no handing off responsibility to a supervisor. And when people come to me with their complaints, I can't just direct them to someone else. Having this kind of responsibility quickly makes me proud, but will also quickly become a burden I cannot handle on my own.

Perhaps this summer will be the start of my maturation into a woman and not just an adolescent trying despirately to look womanly. Perhaps I will realize what sacrifice is necessary for the furthering of God's kingdom, and be willing to make that sacrifice instead of hoping that others do first.

Just some scattered thoughts.

departure and the remedy for sadness

2005-04-29T18:40:00.000-07:00

I was thinking about something I talked about yesterday with a mentor about how it is okay to grieve at death because it is not the way things ought to be. It seems to apply to my current situation of leaving Bryan and not returning.

I am never very emotional, but I have been lately; and every time I am sad at the prospect of leaving, I am immediately filled with doubts. Did I make the right decision? Was I misreading the situation and my own feelings about it? I want to fix what I perceive as a problem--this sadness that fills my heart. Do away with it like we do away with headaches or allergies or any other physical result of the fall.

But I am reminded that it is okay to grieve: that sadness at death or departure is not to be shunned or remedied. "In this life we will have trials, but take heart--I have overcome the world." I have always been so distant from any real trials, and thus distant from ever seeing my God overcome. Perhaps in the next week, I might learn to grieve appropriately: without allowing sadness to affect my decisions, but also without trying to cease the aching of my heart. And then I will be able to delight in seeing my Overcomer.

insufficient

2005-04-28T19:05:00.000-07:00

Will I ever be good enough? I don't need recognition, I don't need fame. I just need to know if I will ever be good enough at anything to be effective for the kingdom of God.

I sometimes feel like I'm running in all kinds of circles despirately trying to be complete. And then something happens and someone outdoes me in my own game. And I realize once again that all these attempts of mine are bitterly insufficient.

I can't preach. I might say something nice like "I find my sufficiency in God." But even that doesn't feel like enough. God made homeless people too. What if I am an ineffective worker? What if I succumb to the prevailing opinions? What if I am never a good enough writer and my life's ambition is crushed and I am fruitless?

Didn't Jesus curse the tree that didn't bear fruit? I guess that must imply that we're all capable of bearing fruit, if we set our minds to it. Sometimes, though, the task of setting the mind is too much for me. Or, better, I am too tired for the task. My mind is too exhausted by the daily rounds of life to do anything about preparing myself for the act of bearing fruit.

These thoughts are too much for me today.

2005-04-28T12:30:00.000-07:00

There is a professor that I want to write like. She has a way of capturing words with precision that I have never been able to grasp. In fact, there are quite a few people I would like to write like, and I seem to be always encountering new ones.

Why do I persist in wanting to be an author when it seems I must daily tell myself that they're not really better than me, that I can write just as well as they can? And yet writing is my love, and my passion, and sometimes even my life. Writing is my means of communication, my vocation, my calling. And I think, at least, that God has given me that gift and that love for a reason; that I may use writing to bless and change my society.

Am I fooling myself? Am I just like all those teenage punk rockers who think that their garage band will one day be famous?

Doubt and frustration with myself seem to be my daily companions. And yet God is faithful, and will direct me. I don't need to spend my life worrying about whether or not I am good enough or can ever be good enough. I'm not. Let's face that reality. I don't have to be. I only have to pursuit what I love with a passion that recognizes who God is and why he has placed me here.

And this will enable me to appreciate the good gifts of others; my professor's excellence of workmanship, my best friend's clarity with poetry, my mom's love of reading. And not feel these good gifts as hindrances to my own gifts.

2005-04-26T18:46:00.000-07:00

well, it looks like I've finally managed to learn how to change my blog's look. I haven't particularly liked the look from the beginning, but I have been to ignorant to change it. Until today. So be proud.

This means, of course, that now all my posts are going to have to be in slightly more neutral colors than I have been used to. Hope that doesn't bother any of my more faithful readers (do I have any of those?).

God's grace

2005-04-13T18:54:00.000-07:00

He has proven it to me over and over again--he is sovereign, and in his counsel there is fulfillment and grace beyond measure.

I am free to pursue my passions and callings thanks to the counsel of a wise friend and mentor and sister in Christ; free to do what I have always loved to do without feeling guilty.

I don't have to graduate from college.

And that realization has been incredible for me. I can be just as much of a person, of a woman, of a child and servant of God if I don't graduate as if I do. I am not being lazy, or copping out, just because I am choosing to pursue that which God has placed in my heart a love for.

God is bigger than my need to measure up, my need to find security, even my feminine need to love and be love. He is gracious toward my daily struggling to meet up to some ideal I have for myself, and has allowed me to drop that ideal in view of something much bigger.

2005-04-06T16:54:00.000-07:00

I am finding myself curiously unable to BS a paper. Now, believe me, BS is not entirely commonplace with me--only when I don't really know what I'm talking about. But in this paper, I don't think I can get by with not knowing what I'm talking about, and I can't seem to figure out what it is I am talking about. So I am left in a curious dilemma of my own making; and I must go attempt to get out of it.

2005-04-05T19:03:00.000-07:00

Well, it has been awhile, hasn't it? I am an irregular blogger at best, and never say anything of any import in my blogs. Well, today shall be different.

Life has lately presented me with so very many confusions. There is so much I want to change in my world, so much that I see that frightens me about the future. Can I change man's hearts? Can I change the fact that we continue not only to perform evil deeds, but to condone those deeds in others?

And prayer seems so ineffective. I pray, but it doesn't save Terri Schiavo or turn the heart of liberal judges. I pray, but my brothers and sisters in China still languish in work camps. I pray, but God doesn't answer.

Or perhaps he does, in a way that I didn't expect. Perhaps he is answering by bringing his kingdom nearer each day: bringing that day closer when this world with its wickedness and perversion will no longer be our life. When the stresses of today will be caught up and melt away as we see his glory, "that of the only begotten son, full of grace and truth."

Is it only God's promise to Noah in Genesis that preserves us from another flood? We've certainly been asking for it for the past three thousand or so years.

2005-02-02T19:45:00.000-08:00

being the social, economic, spiritual conservative that I am, I must just say right now that our President's State of the Union Address kicked some serious behind.

I'm not, however, qualified to give my opinion. I'm too biased.

2005-02-01T11:02:00.000-08:00

all too many others have been more cautious than courageous and have remained silent behind the anesthetizing secutiry of stained-glass windows.

what an implication upon the church!
ought we not to be the first ones standing up for what is right, rather than hoping someone else does it first?

2005-02-01T06:30:00.000-08:00

Human progress never rolls in on wheels of inevitability; it comes through the tireless efforts of men willing to be coworkers with God.

so you mean I can't just say "someone else will take care of it" or "it will come eventually"? I must act and act now. I am compelled. At least in the words of Martin Luther King Jr., who knew what it was to accomplish something for the glory of God.

2005-01-31T19:14:00.000-08:00

I confess. I'm not really from those islands. I don't even know how they're spelled.

I'm still a little girl at heart.

but wouldn't it be fun to live on some random island in the Carribean? Can I get an amen?

2005-01-31T18:42:00.000-08:00

I fear I will be a rather boring user. Perhaps I shall just post quotes that I find in my various readings.

I must admit, I find this rather addictive.
even if no one is reading it.

Who ever started this silly blogging trend? Not to be depressed or anything, but who cares what you have to say? which is why I shall never publish.

2005-01-30T21:30:00.000-08:00

I've succumbed,

but only, I promise, for the sake of my friends that I haven't heard of. I have no intention of ever being a blogger.

I am too sensible for that.

but even the sensible may fall, for a little while.

I have a suspicion that no one will care what I have to say. But I am not hurt by that!