Writing about Not Writing

I'm doing my best to write this morning, but it's not happening.  The pictures are clear, but I can't seem to ascribe words to them.  I got up this morning, took a shower, got dressed and made my way to my favorite coffee shop.  I was lucky enough to not encounter someone sitting in "my" chair, so I settled in, ready to compose something worthy of the time I invested.  I wanted to walk away, thinking to myself, "I wrote something today!  And, damn!  It was good!  BEHOLD!  I AM A WRITER!"  It's not happening.  Nothing is being transmitted from my brain, through my hands and onto my laptop. So, I'm writing about that.  I'm writing about not being able to write today.

I tell myself everyday, "Jake, It just might not happen today.  Don't let it get to you.  EVERY writer struggles with writing, probably more often than not."  In fact, Donald Miller just wrote an amazing blog on this exact subject. The 5 Steps to Writing a Book. I suppose if Donald Miller struggles with writing, I shouldn't be discouraged when I do.  He's good.  I'm worse.  "Much much worse."  (Remember that episode of Seinfeld?)

Writing is not easy.  It's much more difficult than I ever imagined, and most of the time, I hate what I write. I'm my worst critic.  My wife Kelly usually edits, and critiques, what I write. She usually loves what I write. If if were not for her constant encouraging words of affirmation, I probably wouldn't write another word.

I didn't always consider myself to be a writer.  I wrote because I enjoyed expressing myself with the written word, but never classified myself as a "writer".  What makes a person cross that threshold, ushering them into this category of identification?  I'm not sure.  The transition was not immediate for me, nor did I eagerly embrace it.  At first, I seemed to be reluctant in telling people, "I'm a writer."  I remember having lunch with a good friend of mine and him asking me, "So, are you a writer now?"  I guess I am.  Humbly, I'm a writer.

I love the fact that what I have to say matters to people, even if just one person sometimes.  I hope that I always earn the right to write for those who read what I compile.  I don't think that I have any hidden insight to the world, culture or theology.  I just seem to be able to put it all together in a way that people enjoy reading.  I see pictures in my head and writing is a way of sharing the images with you.  I hope that I'm always able to do that, and do it better as I continue writing.  I appreciate the fact that you read what I have to say.  It means more to me than you might realize.  God has blessed me with the ability to communicate in written form.  That's it.  I know it.  I accept it.  I embrace it.  I'm thankful.

So, here I am.  Writing about not being able to write.  Frustrated.  Staring out the window.  Kicking myself because for someone reason I have nothing to say.  And I really don't.  I'm writing a blog about not being able to write.  But as I find myself not being able to write, I write. Does that make me a writer or what?

Ian

I'm sitting in Starbucks this morning, trying to work on several writing projects at once.  This blog is just one more avenue that I'm finding myself drifting down.  Being OCD does that to you from time to time.  Starbucks is a dangerous place for the OCD personality.  People walk in.  People walk out.  Each time the door open, or someone passes within my field of vision, I instantly look up.  I enjoy people watching, but not when it distracts me from writing.  Today is one of those days, but it was a laughing little boy that derailed my thoughts completely, and possibly for the rest of the day.

The door flies open and a little boy runs in, probably no more than 3 or 4 years old.  His mom follows close behind as he giggles uncontrollably.  I laugh to myself and watch him race across the room.  He bounces with excitement and I think how rare it is that I find myself that excited about anything in life.  "unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven." (Matthew 18:3)  Running. Skipping. Laughing.  Overwhelmed with excitement.  Are these aspects of life that we've completely lost touch with?  And if you coincide them with essentials for seeing God's Kingdom, it's just a tad sobering, isn't it?

Nostalgia is also one of my character traits.  I don't simply think about the past; I obsess over it, especially when I screw up in life.  This is the point of my blog this morning.  I screwed up last night with my 16 year old.  I hurt him deeply, just from a word that I allowed to slip out of my mouth.  I spent most of last night beating myself up over it, and continued faithfully into the morning.  And then that little boy ran across my path.  I don't know his name, but instantaneously it became Ian.  My 16 year old boy was transformed before my eyes into this little stranger. As he laughed, I saw Ian laughing.  As he ran and jumped with excitement, I saw Ian running and jumping with excitement.  As I gazed on the innocence of this child, I remember the innocence that Ian had many years ago, and for a second, I wished that I had the ability to manipulate time.

Time races by us at light speed.  Just when we think we have all the time in the world, we are faced with the sad reality that there really is not that much at our disposal.  I remember thinking that I could not wait for Ian to grow up.  Being a parent of young children is hard.  But these days, I just want the clock to stop, if only for a few moments.  I long for those days when a single word would not cut so deeply into his psyche.  It's so hard these days.

I got up to get a refill of my iced coffee and as I walked to the counter, the little boy ran up to me, with a big smile and laughing.  I love kids, so I bantered back at him with a funny face and turning my hands into my signature snapping crab claws.  He laughed even more and reached out his arms toward me.  Mom was smiling, so I assumed it was OK to return the gesture.  I extended my arms and he jumped into them, continuing to giggle.  I guess it was a little too much, considering my emotional state this morning.  I felt tears well up in my eyes and tried to conceal them.  It wasn't a stranger that I was holding.  It was 4 year old Ian.  I remember how it felt; him holding Daddy as tight as he could.  I remember that there was a day when I could do no wrong.  I was superman.  Now I'm just an old jerk that has has trouble taming his tongue and having to end this blog immediately because I'm crying like an idiot.  Sorry.

                                          

New Stuff: A Back to School Devotion for Youth

Well, it's back to school time again!  I know!  Stinks, doesn't it?  I mean, can you believe that Summer is already over?  As always, it went by fast!  A new school year can mean different things for different people. Some of us are ready to get back into the school routine and some of us are bummed out. Some of us might be feeling excited to see old friends and make new ones, and some of us might just be sad that summer is over. You might even be a little scared about going back to school because of all the “new” things that you are going to face. You will have to deal with “new” teachers, try and make “new” friends, and some of you might even be going to a “new” school. School is not always easy, is it? And when there are “new” things to experience, it can be even                                                                more challenging for all of us.

Starting a new school year is also a time when we see that many people around us seem to have “new stuff". Some people have new clothes, new phones, new ipods, new backpacks and maybe even a new car. And if we let it get to us, it can bring us down because other people have new” things that we don’t have. When we see a lot of “new stuff" it can even make us a little angry because we want those things for ourselves.  We’re only human, right? I mean, who doesn’t want “new stuff”? 

The big companies want us to feel envy for what other people have and how they look.  They spend tons of money on commercials and adverting in hopes that you’ll feel envious enough to spend as much effort and money as you can to buy what they’re selling.  And what happens next?  We start comparing ourselves to others, right? When we do this, we get jealous, angry and feel like we’re not as good as other people. This kind of thinking is messed up, and not the way the world is supposed to be!

But let’s face it. We all feel like this sometime. I know I do. The problem with envy is that it leads us feeling unhappy, empty and lonely. Like a cancer, it gets inside us, and starts to eat away at our soul. It's a sickness!  But the great thing is; we don’t have to feel this way! God wants us to know that “new stuff” is not always the things that we can see or touch. By trusting in Him, He gives us a “new” way of seeing life and the world around us! Instead of feeling envy, God can help us to feel love for others and love them because of who they are, not what they have or don’t have!

By trusting in God, he gives us a new way of life that is not based on the stuff we have or don’t have. The “new stuff” that God wants for all of us is on the inside. Let it out! He wants us to love instead of hate! He wants us to share what we have, even when we only have a little! He wants us to not be alone, but live together in families, schools, churches and all kinds of communities! God wants all of us to have “new stuff”, but most importantly, he wants us to have a “new life”! We can have “new life” through Him and by loving each other! Trust in God this school year, and make this a year of “New Stuff”!

Lonley Day

Have you ever noticed how easy it is to feel completely alone, even while in the presence of hundreds of people?  You walk through bustling crowds, all the while feeling like you are surrounded by some kind of invisible cocoon.  Everyone seems to have purpose, direction, importance; none of which seem to be connected to you in any way.  Inwardly, we can feel utterly alone, even though our external surroundings reveal anything but.  Henri Nouwen says in his book, The Wounded Healer:

"We live in a society in which loneliness has become one of the most painful human wounds. The growing competition and rivalry which pervade our lives from birth have created in us an acute awareness of our isolation. This awareness has in turn left many with a heightened anxiety and an intense search for the experience of unity and community. It has also led people to ask anew how love, friendship, brotherhood and sisterhood can free them from isolation and offer them a sense of intimacy and belonging. All around us we see the many ways by which the people of the western world are trying to escape this loneliness….

But the more I think about loneliness, the more I think that the wound of loneliness is like the Grand Canyon – a deep incision in the surface of our existence which has become an inexhaustible source of beauty and self-understanding. The Christian way of life does not take away our loneliness; it protects and cherishes it as a precious gift. Sometimes it seems as if we do everything possible to avoid the painful confrontation with our basic human loneliness, and allow ourselves to be trapped by false gods promising immediate satisfaction and quick relief. But perhaps the painful awareness of loneliness is an invitation to transcend our limitations and look beyond the boundaries of our existence. The awareness of loneliness might be a gift we must protect and guard, because our loneliness reveals to us an inner emptiness that can be destructive when misunderstood, but filled with promise for him who can tolerate its sweet pain… We easily relate to our human world with devastating expectations. We ignore what we already know… that no love or friendship, no intimate embrace or tender kiss, no community, commune or collective, no man or woman, will ever be able to satisfy our desire to be released from our lonely condition. This truth is so disconcerting and painful that we are more prone to play games with our fantasies than to face the truth of our existence."  

Loneliness can be both a blessing and a curse.  And this is possibly why so many of us avoid community.  For it is when we are thrust into community that we are confronted by the fact that isolation can no longer coexist with healthy and loving community.  We are drawn to explore what has caused us to embrace isolation in the first place, and this usually means having to face some demons that we've avoided for a long time.  In many ways, community is the antithesis of isolation; still promising troubles and even pain, but also with the promise of unity.  

The above video by System of a Down seems to really seems to capture the feeling of isolation that exists in so many pockets of our culture today.  Only when we decide to come out of our self-made cocoons, will we begin to see that real community is possible.  But we have to take the chance together.  Community cannot be accomplished within the vacuum of self, but can only be found when we join others in mutual isolation.  Then we begin to realize that we not only share some of the same sort of feelings, but also begin to see our feelings of isolation diminish.  Community is a picture of life in it's fullness.  Isolation is a shadow of death. 

Although the world around us can encourage isolation, especially as technology seems to draw us further inward, I don't believe that this is what God created us for.  I believe that God created us to live in healthy communities together, sharing our life journeys.  Especially for those that follow Christ, community holds a special place of importance because we are part of something larger:  the Body of Christ.  Rather than figurative, this is a living breathing organism that only functions at full capacity if all members are fully connected.  This is why isolation can be so debilitating.  When we are removed from the living Body that we are naturally supposed to be part of, we feel the pain of separation, just as one would with the loss of a limb or an internal organ.  When isolated, we feel sick, irritated, angry, frustrated, sapped of energy and less than human.          

In the Gospel of John, Jesus paints one of the most beautiful pictures of community found anywhere.  When Jesus says,"A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.  By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”, it is not simply a sentiment that the disciples were to carry in their hearts for one another.  But this command comes after Jesus humbles Himself to wash His friends' feet.  He calls His friends to "love one another" only after He has physically shown them what love really means.  And that kind of love cannot exist in isolation, but only within the presence of loving community that is willing to put others first.     

Best Day Ever

Yesterday was a good day.  In fact, it just might have been the best day ever.  That is, unless you were to consider today, which consequently was the best day ever.  And if we happen to meet somewhere tomorrow, I will declare with certainty, "Today is the best day ever!"  Let me explain.  In order to keep two nine year old boys occupied for the afternoon, and also keep my sanity, I decided to take my youngest son Lucas, and his best buddy Braden, to Putt Putt Fun House; our local Arcade/Miniature Golf/Laser Tag/Bumper Boats/Bowling/Pizza Eating/Rock Climbing/Over-Stimulating/Sugar High Inducing....well....Fun House. It originally only offered miniature golf, back in the 80s; hence the name Putt Putt Fun House. They had go carts at one time, and it was a great place for dates in high school, but I digress.

Putt Putt is the only place in town where you can spend $10 worth of game tokens in order to proudly redeem your winnings for $1 worth of prizes and feel like a champion and millionaire, all at the same time. Yesterday was no exception. Since I only allocated them a few bucks each, both boys decided early on that it would be more efficient to combine their prize tickets in order to redeem a higher quantity and quality junk, and since they are practically inseparable these days, I agreed that it would be a safe transaction. After about 20 minutes of Las Vegas style junior gambling, they made their way to the ticket calculating machine to see how much Lady Luck had graciously bestowed upon them. Their excitement increased as they fed stacks of orange tickets into the hungry mechanical cage cashier. When they began to realize that they were going to end up with an excess of well over 2000 tickets, they high-fived each other, agreeing that sharing in the glory was much better than individual acclaim. So far, it was a pretty good day!

 As the ticket feeder produced a grand total of 2289 points with much pomp and circumstance, Lucas suddenly declared, "This is the best day of my life!" The best day of his life? Really? Have I done so badly a job as a dad that this is his best day so far? I mean, we just got back from a week long vacation, two days of which were spent at one of the biggest water parks in the country, and this is your best day? Are my son's expectations of life really that low? What will his worst day look like? Do I suck as a dad? "This is the best day of my life!" Wow! "Lucas, my son. I love you! But you really need to get a life! Please! Before you get too old and the best day of your life ends up being......"
There I was, watching my son have the best day of his life, when as always, when I let my guard down,   some deep theological truths hit me between the eyes through the simplicity of life. As always, I realize that the complexity of life does not always make us more efficient, more profitable, better or happier for that matter. When you get right down to it, contentment in life comes in the brief moments when we simply breath in and out and realize that this is all we have, all we need.  In reality, this was the best day. Through the eyes of my son, I was transported into a radically different view of life, and it was the best day of our lives. Right there. Right then. Why? Because it was the only day we had access too, right at that very moment. How could it not be the best day?

This is how kids look at life; from day to day, hour to hour, second to second. Their minds don't jump ahead at how things could be better, because they usually see what is before them as the best. They don't lament and ponder why yesterday wasn't as good, because yesterday was the best up until now. And if it wasn't the best, they've already moved on because that's just how their minds work. They see life at it's best and I think this is exactly what Jesus was getting at when He said, "I'm telling you, once and for all, that unless you return to square one and start over like children, you're not even going to get a look at the kingdom, let alone get in. Whoever becomes simple and elemental again, like this child, will rank high in God's kingdom. What's more, when you receive the childlike on my account, it's the same as receiving me." (Matthew 18:3-4 MSG)  According to Jesus, the best is the Kingdom of God. Kids see the best. They see the Kingdom, and through their eyes exists a doorway to God's Kingdom that comes to as close to fruition as we can get. The Kingdom of God is here. It's the best day ever.

Living in the moment is not an easy concept for us to grasp, especially as we grow older.  Our lives continue to accelerate as we tirelessly strive to find the best.  Tomorrow will always be better than today, and today does not ever seem to be quite as good as yesterday.  How often do we contently rest in the realization that the best is here and now, realizing that the moment is literally all we have.  As much as we would like to, we can't exist one second in the past or one second into the future.  We exist moment by moment.  Why are those moments not considered to be the best, regardless of circumstances?

As I reflect on the simplicity of my son's words yesterday, I'm reminded that God expects no more from us than this.  After all, He taught us to pray for our "daily bread".  Not complain about the dry bread from yesterday, or anxiously fret because we may not have bread tomorrow.  And as He stands by, watching us count up our winning tickets and redeeming them for junk, I think He simply longs to hear us declare, "This is the best day of my life!".