Unwritten

No one reads this, but here are my thoughts as I sit at home with nothing to do.

Since I was a little girl learning how to put letters into words, words into sentences, and sentences into paragraphs of meaning, writing became necessary to who I am. I love words, I love their meanings as well as the connotations of those same words in different situations. I love eloquent words used with flourish, and I love colloquial words used to make up normal, or even coarse, conversation. Each word has it's purpose, to convey a feeling or an action or some sort of explanation for every situation. I suppose this is why I'm not so upset when people use curse words, because I see them simply as expressions of the way the person is feeling. I do get upset when people use them in regular language, as it is inappropriate but also shows a lack of intellect and respect for both others and him/herself on the speakers part. Words do not only tell a story, they also shed light on what is important to the storyteller. Take the story of Cinderella for example. Cinderella is a story known in almost every culture, whether by that particular name or another one. The Brothers Grimm tell a tale so morbid it becomes laughable and utterly outrageous, while the writers at Disney told a story of love and hope that defeats all odds and overcomes all obstacles. The Grimms thought to warn young ladies of the pitfalls of being vain and greedy, while the Disney writers wanted to encourage fanciful thoughts on love. Words are also interpreted differently by alternate readers. One person could read the Disney version of Cinderella and be totally captivated by the love story, while another person could read it and be disgusted by the sexism and glossy outlook on love which makes the first reader demand a perfect love as in the story.

I think it is fitting that Jesus is called the Word made flesh. He is the story and He is the storyteller. He is and He was and He will be. He not only told stories with his parables, but he told a story in how he lived and treated others. Jesus was nothing if not kind. I've decided that kindness is underused these days. It should be a virtue that permeates every part of our daily lives, and yet it is such a struggle to find someone who is naturally kind. In all of the Bible there is only one place that I can think of where you might argue that Jesus was unkind, but at the same time it was out of a righteous anger against the people who spurned God and God's holy temple. There were times when Jesus was asked a question and he would give the answer with no cushion, such as the time he told the wealthy man he must give up his wealth and possessions and follow him in order to be saved, but he was just truthful without coddling the man so that he could know the absolute truth rather than be misled. There was never any meanness, even in his righteous anger. If Jesus is the story and the storyteller, what is he trying to show us? What is he trying to teach us?

In all my life I have met only one person whom I would say follows the letter of God in regards to kindness. She always thinks of others first, always has a kind word to say, and even in her rare moments of anger or frustration, she finds something good in either the person or the situation that made her so. When I talk to her, (or rather complain to her since I am a person naturally hounded by mean spiritedness and a cruel and perverse sense of fun in cutting someone to the quick with wit and sarcasm) she always has a sense of kindness around her that when I get upset or am tempted to say something horrid about another person, I am reminded that it is wrong. She never sets me straight or tells me to stop complaining or meanly gossiping, but being around her reminds me that it is not how I should be acting. There is a holiness to her that is refreshing and keeps me thinking about how I act and the things I say. I have never met anyone who more resembles the salt of the earth and the light to the world as all Christians should be. Most people who think they are those things often irritate me because they hold themselves in such high esteem, but not her. She is truly humble in this, never thinking herself better than any other, but rather lowering herself below others. It is so rare to find that in another person, and I am glad to call her friend.

I often think about writing books, about telling my story so that our children and grandchildren can know me and learn from my life's mistakes and miracles. I also think about writing fiction books, either children's chapter books or books for adults, and having them published. A part of me is too afraid to try, a lot of me is just too undisciplined to even attempt at carving out sufficient time to sit down and write. I can't even keep up with this blog. I often think about what it would be like to have an office to go to where I would just sit down and write, making that my career instead of youth ministry. Often times I long for just that, but I know I can not make the kind of money doing that, that we need to live off of and even when Tim has a job teaching I'm not certain it would create enough income to be worth it, so I don't allow myself to think about doing that too much. I also know that my lack of discipline, my inability to focus, and my lack of trust in people's responses to what I write will work against me. I wrote a Christmas story this fall, but I have no way of knowing if it is something anyone would ever consider publishing as a children's picture book. Most of the stories running around in my head are unwritten because I fear that they have no use to anyone but me.

I know this post was rather random, but still. It was good just to sit down and write for a while.