I wrote a long piece yesterday and it's sitting in my drafts, ready to be posted... But after reading it today I decided it's much too bitter and cynical. Let's just say I've had easier weeks. And I'm not so sure the last paragraph of my previous post is entirely true.

I'll be back when I can write something cheerier... or at least with more perspective.

Little Things

How satisfying it is to live in such a rich world, so full of things to delight in every moment, and to know from Whom these blessings came.

“If there were no God we would be in this glorious world with grateful hearts and no one to thank.” --Christina Rossetti

This world is not my home, but the “home away from home” God gave me has so much in it to savor and appreciate. Five senses to take it all in (why not only one?). A mind to contemplate it. A heart to respond.

What is the point of all the variety in the world? Why do birds each have their own song? Why are snowflakes unique? Why are there so many kinds of fruit, each with its own color, taste, and smell? Why not stick to manna from heaven?

I can only conclude that He created such variety for our pleasure. And if it is for our pleasure, then He is glorified by our taking pleasure in it.

Knowing that all these things have been given as gifts from a loving God makes them infinitely more meaningful. I doubt I would find such satisfaction in simple things like the sound of crunching leaves, or the way clouds move across the sky, if I believed that everything happened by chance. It would all be so ordinary – so meaningless. Like finding a scrap of paper with a scribble on it on the ground in a parking lot, instead of getting that same scrap of paper from my little cousin who “drew the dog just for me.” The same object, but one gets tossed in the trash without a second thought, and the other fills me up with warm fuzzies.

There was a time not long ago when I felt almost overwhelmed by the beauty and awesomeness and pure-and-simple enjoyable-ness of all the little “good things” in my life; from the way the mist enshrouds the mountain outside my window on a foggy morning to the perfectly melodious song of a meadowlark on the lawn; from the softness of the bed I lie down in every night to the sweet, refreshing taste of just-squeezed orange juice. My words of gratefulness and appreciation always seemed so inadequate – so catastrophically out of proportion with the gifts being showered down upon me.

I'm not in that place anymore. All the richness is still here, but I'm distracted. By circumstances, by heartache, by anger, by a million and one things, most of which have no business cluttering my mind. I think... I hope... yes, I am certain, that in time I will begin to find joy in the “little things” again. Pain has a way of making happiness sweeter, when it comes.

And it is coming, though sometimes the process seems agonizingly slow. I tasted a little bit of it today. Perhaps part of the refining nature of trials lies in teaching us to taste that joy even in the midst of the fire. I'm certainly not there yet. But if it takes a hundred more such trials to teach me, I'm willing to walk that path.

Post the First

The time has come. I’m dusting off my writing tools today.

Under my bed in an old shoe box lurks the evidence of my one-time obsession with putting pen to paper. For months – maybe even years now – I’ve vowed to one day get back to it; but what was once my greatest joy has somehow become intimidating. Paralyzing. Hence the dust.

I don’t know what happened. I used to live and breathe for the sheer excitement of stringing words together to watch them play and hear them sing. Words seemed to drip off the end of my pen, effortlessly filling obscene amounts of paper with everything from character sketches of classmates to essays on politics to plotlines.

I never gave it up entirely. The occasional bit of poetry, written not for the joy of writing but under compulsion from emotions demanding expression, found its way to paper. And I’ve still never survived more than a few weeks without journaling. I doubt I’ll ever break that addiction!

So now, after a week full of not-so-subtle nudges from people who didn’t even know they were nudging me… here I am. Determined to conquer laziness by committing myself to at least one post a week, and letting everyone see and point their fingers if I fail. Determined to conquer self-consciousness by putting my writing out in the open. Determined not to let the passion I once had die a slow death of complacency and false humility. Determined to use the gifts and desires God gave me to the best of my ability.

I’m not entirely sure what this blog will consist of. For now, I intend to use it as a place to practice the craft of writing, and hopefully gain some constructive feedback (hint hint). I have an idea of what direction most of the content will take… but I’ll let that be revealed in its own time.