It is absolutely amazing to me to see God move through your life. He can take a terrible situation – a situation where you feel as if you’ve sunk to your lowest point, where you feel that no one understands what you’re going through or experiencing – and turn it into an unfathomable opportunity for blessing beyond measure.
So, earlier today, I was thinking to myself as I was typing out my final essay for my humanities class, when a thought struck me.
Why do I love to write?
I mean, what makes it so special? Why has it suddenly become my fervent passion? I have even given up video games so that I might have more time to write, and I used to obsess over video games! So why the sudden change of heart?
Because writing is an escape from reality. (more…)
Recently I’ve been doing a lot more writing and character development, and as I was sharing some of my newest work with my good friend Leigh, it dawned on me how amazing it is to watch characters grow and evolve into different people. I suppose the same could be said of watching children grow up, or watching friends change over the years, but there’s something special about reading along as the character, and it’s something rarer still to be the one telling that story.
I’ve been kind of burned out lately.
Not from writing, or reading, or anything of that nature, but I’ve been burned out from the politics of religion – specifically, Christianity. I have so many different friends, all of whom are Christians, but each different circle holds a different set of beliefs. Some say Christ died for the world, others say that He died for His people; some say you must first hear the Gospel to be saved, others say Salvation is of the Holy Spirit and is separate from hearing the Gospel.
But then they get even more divided.
Why is it so hard to manage time?
I usually don’t have a problem with it, but taking a Wintermester of math has completely shattered my concept of time and priorities. Maybe it’s because I was literally waking up every morning, doing math, and then going to work, only to start it over the next day (for 30 days!). I did have some off-time, of course, but largely I didn’t have the time to do anything fun that was unrelated to school or work. I couldn’t read, I couldn’t write, I couldn’t watch TV, I couldn’t post on this blog, and I couldn’t follow any others, without this constant nagging in the back of my head that said “you need to do school!” Dx
All-in-all, it was quite the dreadful experience, and I would never do it again, but I am glad I did it because now I have an entire semester of math killed and buried (YES!).
But now I’m stuck.
It is official.
As of midnight, it is January 2nd.
As of midnight, I am 21.
*bows as you all stand and appluad*
Thank you, thank you, really, you’re too kind. ;P
Earlier this week, I stumbled upon a certain YouTube video titled “Avatar is satanic and demonism.” Curious, I clicked on it, and, in the video, Christian pastor Mark Driscoll boldly asserted that James Cameron’s Avatar is the most demonic/satanic film he has ever seen. Normally I would simply summarize, but seeing as he is completely destroying the value of this movie, I will share with you his exact statement:
“[Avatar] is saying that we shouldn’t develop culture, that primitive is good and advanced is bad, and that we’re not sinners; that we’re just disconnected from the divine lifeforce – just classic, classic, classic paganism; that human being should connect with trees and animals and beasts and birds and that there’s this spiritual connection that we are all a part of; that we’re all a part of the divine.”
My friends, it’s finally happening.
After all the uncertainty and chaos, after all the lawsuits and diretor changes, the movie that we have all been waiting for is finally going to happen!
The Hobbit is coming.
Last night, I finished the last chapter in the last book to the series that inspired me to start writing.
Last night, I finished The Inheritance Cycle, by Christopher Paolini.
For those of you who don’t know, I love to write.
And by “write,” I mean picking up a pen and physically moving it across a blank sheet of paper (preferable college ruled). There’s just something about brushing the side of your hand against the crisp texture of the sheet as you glide the pen across it, leaving behind the marks that are your thoughts, your feelings, your words. It’s practically an artform in and of itself (I’m just talking about reguar writing, here, not calligraphy, which I know is an artform), and it’s one that I fear is dying with the rise of electronic media – but that is a topic for a different time!
No, today, I’m going to talk about pens – specifically, how you know if the pen with which you use to write is a proper writing instrument or not (See? I can talk properly when I so choose. ;P).
So, today at work, as I was diligently sorting my returns, my sister walks up to me and asks me a question.
“Tim, did you take the car to go get lunch today?”
“Did you move the car at all?”
“Oh, well, then someone broke into our car. Did you leave the doors unlocked?”
The day where the goodness of humanity is fully shown as it comes together and celebrates (and gives thanks for) the many blessings that God has bestowed upon it throughout the year; the day where good will and charity is shown to those less fortunate, and happiness is shared with all.
The day where humanity’s ugly side is shown as it sinks to the lowest of the low; the day where mankind unleashes its primal instincts and reduces itself to nothing more than a crazed and mindless mob, with hopes of securing that fabled Barbie Doll, or that discounted waffle iron.
Can you believe the difference between the two definitions? Can you believe how one day changes everything?
I certainly can’t, but the reality is there, as cold-cut as the definitions I provided, and it saddens me to my core that people are capable of such extremes.
But before I elaborate, let’s back-peddle a bit.
I find it funny how we create personalities for people. Not the people we actually know and talk with on a regular basis, of course, but the people we don’t talk to; the people we merely observe – especially those we see on a regular basis.
And I find it funnier when they turn out to be completely different from what we internally conceived.
“How good, how sweet, how pleasant ’tis
When brethren all agree.”
~ Asa B. Everett
Those words express the sum of my feelings right now, as I have had one of the best weekends in recent memory.
So, yesterday was a fairly normal day for me. I got up, ran some errands, whipped up an outline for a speech I have to give next Tuesday, and then headed off to work.
I walked into the building, clocked in, and started off to go do whatever it is that I needed to do, as I always do, when my boss suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
While working on an assignment for my Creative Writing class, I began to run with a thought:
Nobody reads anymore.
I am one of the few people at my job that regularly brings a book to work to read on break. Everyone else just mindlessly watches the television, whereas I get caught up in an adventure – sometimes I even have a hard time getting back to work because the story is so riveting!
Have you ever been driving down the road, or through a parking lot, at a nice, regular speed, when you suddenly hit an unmarked speedbump? Your car jerks up and screams at you and you get tossed around a bit, causing you to hit the brakes and slow down, disrupting the perfect cruise you were on. Yes?
Well, that’s basically what’s happening with my writing right now.
The other day I was reading Temple of the Winds, the fourth book in the Sword of Truth series, and one of the characters said something that really struck a chord in me:
“What’s done is done. We can only strive to shape the future – we cannot alter the past.”
I find it interesting how we change over the courses of our lives; how we acquire different beliefs and hone different skills, while at the same time abandoning or pieces of ourselves that we once held most dear. It’s almost as if you can look over your shoulder and see all the different versions of you, standing as relics of your past, each one whispering reminders of what you’ve gained and what you’ve lost – an evolutionary chain of you.
Here lately, there has been a lot of change in my life (those of you who read my stuff know what I’m talking about), and I’ve come to a simple realization.
You can’t make the wrong shoe fit.
It doesn’t matter how much you like it, how much you want it, or how much you’re willing to sacrifice for it – if it doesn’t fit, it’s not the right one.
That name, those two words, spring to mind a plethora of images and ideas: Apple, Mac, iPod, iPhone, Pixar. Perhaps one of the greatest innovative geniuses of our time, Steve Jobs was an unstoppable creative force, laying the foundation and paving the way for future computer technology and consumer satisfaction.
Today I learned about America’s first black poet, and America’s first female black poet, Phillis Wheatley. She was born in Africa and brought to Boston when she was only eight years old in 1761. She was purchased by John Wheatley, a wealthy tailor, as a companion for his wife Susannah. In their household, Phillis was taught how to read and write, and she studied the Bible and famous poets. She was considered a literary prodigy; by the age of twenty her first book was published in London, and she became a poetic superstar in the British America.