Ainsley Drew, of Ministry of Imagery once asked me how often I wrote what I loved. I really enjoyed the conversation we had, even if I realize in hindsight that it was more an interview than a conversation. Perhaps that’s one of the things that makes her most talented: her ability to engage people. She’s really quite an amazing individual, and I’ve never met her.
Anyway, how often to I write what I love? Not often. A brief glance over the pages of this blog will tell you that it’s not often that I manage to write anything at all, much less what I love. I lack the confidence to write anything and am, without fail, nowhere near a computer when I have an idea I might actually put fingers to keyboard to write about. I’ve had some good ideas lately, but alas, they’re gone, having not been written down or written about in a timely fashion. If I have a muse, she’s a sadistic sort who loves giving me inspiration at the worst possible time.
Perhaps I’m destined to love in the background, an extra in the play played out on the stage of life. Maybe a stagehand. Maybe I’m the gorilla that walks through the people bouncing balls that no one sees. I don’t know. I do know that I want to write what I love. I just need to find it when I’m capable of doing so.
Lately I’m seeing a lot of people register here at This Side Down. Given that I almost never post anything, I find it odd that so many people are showing up as registered users.
If you’re registered at this site and actually watch for new posts, please place a comment on this thread. On May 1, I’ll be deleting any and all usernames that prove to be illegitimate.
(this is a very rough draft, mostly used to get some thoughts “on paper”, but I’m publishing it now. Please feel free to leave comments.)
Recently I’ve been reflecting on some issues that I’ve long believed plague the Christian church and, as I’m going to try to start doing, I’m going to explore those thoughts here.
Christian’s are referred to as being “born again”. Born into a life, not free from sin, but a life that is supposed to be lived in forgiveness, reconciled to our God and seeking to grow to be like Christ. I wonder, though, how many people really try to live like this.
I first entered into relationship with Christ when I was 12 and for most of my life since that day, I’ve lived the lifestyle of a religious idiot that just didn’t understand what it was all about. Partly, this was my fault, because I didn’t take the time to read the Word and find out. Frankly, at 12 years old, it didn’t make much sense and the Bible came with this certain stigma that made it intimidating for me to think about getting involved in reading. I knew I should do it, but didn’t know why and, consequently, lacked any real motivation to do so. Obligation will motivate someone for only so long before they start looking around and, seeing no one there to scold them for not doing as they ought, just stop doing it.
I lived this way for nearly 20 years and only about 7 years ago did I start really making an effort to grow up. The first rule I learned about growing up spiritually was to stop looking at other people’s mistakes, sins and other miscellaneous transgressions. As Christ taught, I started looking for the plank in my own eye rather than the spec in someone elses. I learned 2 things from this process.
First, I learned that I wasn’t alone and a large number of people that call themselves born again Christians spend their time not looking inward and trying to develop themselves, but rather vent their rage at people committing the same sins they do. I think these people know that things in their life need to change, but they’re unwilling to change them. Not long ago, I read an article that claimed that the American church doesn’t have the revival that they say they want because they don’t really want it. Revival requires personal change and people are to comfortable with their get out of hell free card to worry about changing themselves, all while being perfectly comfortable condemning others to hell over the aforementioned mutual sins. I think at least part of this stems from people’s inability to forgive themselves for what they perceive as failure. They have no compassion on themselves when they fail and it leads to further damage being inflicted on their already fragile egos.
Second, we hold people that aren’t Christians at a distance and refuse to show them the love and compassion that Christ showed the people he ministered to during his time on earth. He absolutely told the truth on people but even those that rejected him were shown love and compassion. Even those that put him on the cross were shown love and compassion; some of his last words on this earth were “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do”. The president of the Barna Research Group, David Kinnaman and Gabe Lyons, who left the Barna Group to found Fermi Project (I think, he may have co-founded Catalyst after his tenure at the Barna Group, but I’ve not verified this point yet) wrote a book called unChristian (new window) that explores 3 years of research into the opinions and attitudes of people looking at the Christian Church from the outside (and thus called “outsiders”) that I’m only just beginning to read but promises to hold some interesting criticism of the church in America.
Anyway, this isn’t intended to go so far in depth, so I’ll sum up here and move on for the time being. In a nutshell, I think that people need to grow up, as it were. Christians need to mature in Christ so they can start showing themselves, their brothers and sisters in Christ, and the people we’re called to minister to the love and compassion that Christ showed every day of his life. Those outside the church don’t care what we have to say until they’ve seen how we live and how we treat those we come in contact with and we continue to live our lives in self-inflicted condemnation for sins that we should really be forgiving ourselves for an working to overcome.
The way to hell may be paved with good intentions but I am, none-the-less, entering this year with the intention of moving through life with a different mindset. Part of that mindset concerns this blog.
I don’t write much (as if you hadn’t noticed) and there are several reasons that I don’t but the time has come for me to start. One of the biggest hurdles I have to overcome is simply remembering to write things down. Simply put, I’m not in the habit of writing things down as they come to me. It’ll take time, I’m sure, but I’m taking steps to ensure that I have a more productive time here.
If you’re subscribed here and are a legitimate reader, rest assured I’m going to try to do better. I’m not sure how long it will take for the fruit of that effort to be apparent here, but I’m actually going to make the effort.
So, keep your eyes peeled. You may just see someone keep a New Year’s resolution.
Lately I’ve become quite intrigued by the creative process. I’ve made some observations about myself and how that process works for me, or how it occurs in my presence… I’m not really sure about a lot of what happens where, but I’m reading and listening and thinking. I think that last one is the biggy.
Merlin Mann has said that writing is sometimes going for a walk and sometimes goofing around and sometimes playing with your kids and sometimes pouring glue in your chair and putting your head down and getting it done. Right now, I guess I’m doing something that vaguely resembles the latter while my wrist reminds me that I need a new ergonomic keyboard.
I’ve noticed that I never find my muse (for as cheesy as that sounds) when I’m near a computer. I’ll find it on the john, or when I’m climbing into bed or when I’m driving home from work (with the radio OFF). I find my inspiration in my musings about whatever topic comes to mind when my brain is free to wander on its own. Certain things that I can’t predict or understand take root and spring up and become a source of thought for a while and I’m never in front of a computer when I do it.
Still, as I sit here, I realize that I’m normal for a “creative”. I recently watched a movie that ended with a line that went something like “I’m going to go find my next story. I hope you do the same”. I don’t tend to tell stories so much, but taking the line as a metaphor goes a long way to producing the transition. Sometimes I need to go find the story. I need to go find the inspiration in my musings over topics that may not interest anyone but me. I need to let my mind go for a walk even if I’m stuck behind the wheel of the family minivan in rush hour traffic.
It’s encouraging though, knowing that you’re not strange for being the way you are. I read recently that minds that are allowed to wander or, more specifically, people that don’t force themselves to focus on a problem are more likely to experience a revelation; that a-ha moment that suddenly explains things. I’ve long thought I was lazy or stupid and here I’ve gone and discovered after all my years on earth that I’m just normal. That feels pretty good.
So I’m off to find my next story. Hope you do the same.