"But you've been in college for, like, ever."

For one of my classes, we are reading this book called Becoming Adult, Becoming Christian by James Fowler. Most people in my class hate the book, but I'm that nerd that loves it and eats it up. 

We had to write a short essay on one chapter of the book that discusses different partnerships with God.  I wrote about this thing Fowler called “Partnership with God the Creator”.  In this partnership, we are, in a sense, working with God to bring about the work and excellence of his creation.   

This idea of partnering with God to make the world a better place appeals to me so much because I believe that God has entrusted us with His creation in such a way that He lets us take care of it in the hopes that we bring about His glory through the care we show in His creation.  From the very beginning of time, God put Adam in control of the Garden of Eden and told him to take care of the animals and plants.  The thing is, I don’t think that God just put us on earth to take care of His creation and then completely left us to do the work on our own; I strongly believe that if we admit we don’t always know how to best take care of His creation, He is able and willing to help us, thus the term “partnership”. 

This partnership with God also appeals to me because of the many connotations of the word “creation”.  In the text, Fowler writes about the different ways we create in this partnership with God, such as through technology, architecture, arts and science, and others.  The idea of creating both with and for God, taking the talents He has given me specifically and using them to further His Kingdom and make the world fruitful and worthwhile so strongly appeals to everything I believe.  

I don’t think we were just placed on earth to enjoy life, although I do think that is definitely part of it; I also think we are here to use the talents and gifts God bestowed upon us to make God’s creation the best it can possibly be.  When we realize this and accept this partnership of creation God is offering us, I feel that He is happy and smiling down upon His creation. 

Anyways, I was that nerd and was so excited to write a paper about this, I wrote two pages instead of the paragraph required, and still felt like I had more to say. 

I need to get out of school. It's turning me into some kind of nerd monster. 

"You are pretending! And that is acting."

I'm going to be in a play.

It's short, just under 10 minutes, and there are only two characters in the whole thing. But I'm still terrified. If I hadn't been asked on the spot and under pressure, I probably would have thought through it more and said no.

I'm taking a playwriting class this semester and I love it. I've discovered I love all forms of writing, and playwriting is so exciting because it changes so much.

My play is getting performed as well. I'm so excited to see my words performed, but I'm not really nervous about my play. I've learned to take criticism and change pretty well by now, so I'm not worried about them ruining it. I have complete faith in my actors.

But I'm terrified to act in this play, this sweet girl who has written beautiful words in a beautiful story. I will kill myself if I screw this up for her. I can't handle messing it up.

Maybe I'm just a little used to people not living up to everything I imagine them to be, but I can't handle not living up to someone else's expectations of me.

One good thing may come of this - I will probably lose weight because I'm far too nervous to eat.

"The most incredible thing, roses. They almost cover the stench of sin in this house."

I need to vent about incest for a moment. Apologies are profuse, I promise.

Just because a novel or a play is a "classic" and won every stinking award possible doesn't mean I need to feast my eyes on it.  Especially if it's full of mothers raping their sons and having babies by them, or daughters having sex with their dead father's corpse, or a mother finding sexual pleasure from breastfeeding her son, or a mother bathing her son until he's in high school, or cousins having a twenty-year affair.

How is this good literature?

I'm not trying to pretend that I'm the best follower of Jesus ever or so much better than the world. I'm not and I'm fully aware of that.  I'm not even trying to say that just because I go to a "Christian" institution, I shouldn't have to read this kind of material. I'm saying that I think that even if I didn't love Jesus, I would still hate reading about incest.

I know I'm a nerd. Books and the ability to read are blessings from God. And as such, I want to read things that are pleasing to him.

I don't think books about mother rapping their sons and then her husband getting mad when she gives birth to her son's baby so he drowns it and buries it in the backyard are pure and holy things to put before our eyes.

One more thing. I know I sometimes watch movies and telly shows I probably shouldn't, and even read things that probably upset Jesus.

But I didn't expect to be forced to read such material at a university whose motto is "We are a Christ-centered campus".

I am so glad I transfered to the institution that I am.  I'm proud to graduate from such an institution.  But things like this remind me that none of us, no institution, is perfect while we are on earth.

And I think my university needs to be humble and admit this every once and awhile.

If you're wondering, the title quote is from "Buried Child".

An interesting read, if you like incest.

Hey, remember that time we lived?

I'm not going to die.

I mean, yes I'll eventually die just like everybody.  Eventually I'll return to the dust just like everyone does. Eventually I'll be in front of the Person Who created me and maybe if I'm lucky I'll get some answers and maybe I won't and maybe that's okay because I think everything will be okay when you're no longer a human.

Maybe it's ludicrous to say I'm not going to die because my heart could stop beating right now and I could be done.

I once thought I would know when my time is up here because I'd accomplish something and then the universe and God would be like, "Yeah, that was awesome and worth it so she can move on now."

And then this person I knew named Jamie died.

It's not like I knew him his whole life or could talk about how he had accomplished some kind of ultimate goal or anything.  I knew him for a year.

But I think what bothered me for a long time after his death was thinking he wasn't done yet.  It was hard for me to get upset when I first heard about the accident that ultimately killed him because I knew he'd pull through because he wasn't done yet.  It was an accident and the universe and God hadn't given him permission to leave yet.

And then he left.

Awhile after he left, I read this book called The Fault In Our Stars.  It's about two people who have cancer and how they live their lives and why they live their lives.

Spoilers.

One of them dies.

It's terrifying because he does some amazing things and just lives his life and then dies and he is angry before he dies because he thinks maybe he won't leave a big enough mark on the world.

Here's what I think.

FDR left an impact on the world.  So did Gandhi.  So did Hitler  So did Elvis.  So did Jack Wilson.

Jack Wilson was my granddaddy.  Most people in the world don't and won't know who he is.

But I knew who he was.  My mom knew who he was.

He lived his life just like everyone did.  I remember him sometimes, but that's not what makes his life magically worthwhile.

I want to say things now, but I'm afraid of them being cheesy or like things you say to make yourself feel better.  That's not what I want.

What I want is to feel that it doesn't matter if you have a finished or unfinished life.  It doesn't matter what you didn't mark off your bucket list before you kicked it.

I can't be upset that I feel Jamie's life was uncompleted.  I can't be upset to think that if my lungs collapsed right now I was still at university and didn't get to "really live" my life.

I'm alive.  You're alive.  Some of us are not.  But they're not in nothingness.  I don't believe that.

I'm rambling a lot, I know.  I'm a writer, we do that a lot.  I'm also under medication, and the two combined is a bad thing.

Sometimes I'm really great with taking a thought and writing it out myself and making it mine, but I don't know how successful I was this time.

Here's what I was trying to say.  I'll quote from The Fantastic Flying Books Of Mr. Morris Lessmore: "If life is enjoyable, does it have to make sense?"

I'm sorry for the incompleteness of this entry.  But I guess that's realistic of life.

Hey, remember that time we lived life?

"Some men aren't looking for anything logical."

It's late.  And medication has been a good friend tonight.  Those are my excuses.

I don't understand a lot.  I don't pretend to understand a lot.  But I do understand the things I understand.  And I understand being used.

I understand it when you need money or when you're hungry because you haven't eaten today and you don't know if you'll be able to.  I understand it when you're jealous of fancy things or just want to get a break in life.  I understand it when someone comes along and you think they're great, but if they were just like you, you would hate them.

I understand you.  So why don't you even bother to understand me.

Understanding and caring are not one-way streets. You can't feed and replenish and help and give and love and feel on nothing in return.  We love because we're humans.  We love and I don't expect anything in return.  But you should feel the same way.

I know I have sucker written on my forehead, it's okay.  I know I've been blessed far beyond what I deserve and I've never had to worry about where I'm going to sleep tonight or when my next meal will be or if I have shoes.  I don't want you to worry about it either.

But what you don't understand is that there are other things I worry about.  I worry about being loved by someone other than my family (because they don't have a choice).  I worry about being so taken advantage of I don't have real friendships, just leaches.  I worry about getting killed tomorrow and not feeling like I've accomplished anything at all.  I worry about everyone leaving because so many people have left before.

I'm not trying to call names or point my fingers or stick my nose up in the air.  It's just two in the morning and I can't sleep and I need someone else to understand that even those who are thankful they have material possession and a family that's full of love still can need something from those who have no material possessions and no family.

In the end, my stuff and your stuff doesn't mean jack.  What we have together, the emotion and touch and compassion and smiles and trueness, that's what matters.

That I understand.

Geez, The Dark Knight at one in the morning will really do something to you.

"A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do / Don't plan the plan if you can't follow through."

I may not be much of a woman, but I do make a conscious effort to be one. 

Apparently men today think flirting with no real intentions and acting like 10 year olds and not being man enough to stand up for things (like women) is what a "real man" is supposed to look like.

I'll take singleness with a fictional character over that mess.

No boy can ever measure up to fictional characters.  Check. 

But that doesn't stop women from wishing boys could learn to grow up to be men, not just older boys.

"That song has emotions in it. Weird."

I love people who are in love with what they do. 

I had a conversation with my friend Bo The Trolley Driver the other day.  We talked about people who get stuck in their own lives and can't find a way to be happy in it.  I told him that I never wanted to get that way. 

I'm not dumb enough to think I'll get everything I want, or even anything I want.  I'm not dumb enough to even think I'll be half the things I think I want to end up being.

But I would like to know that I made the conscious choice to decide to do what I am happy in doing in everything.

My friend Kelsie and I had this great conversation two weeks ago and I'm still thinking about it, which goes to show how great a conversation it was.  She told me she picked the guy she is engaged to and she knows that it was her decision to marry him or not or be happy with him or not and she decided for herself what was right for her.

I want to know that even if I'm poor and living in a not-so-great apartment and don't have everything easy but I'm writing or doing what I decided was right for me, I'd be happy.  I want to know that even if I had to give up some of my own dreams because I met someone who cared enough to spend his life sharing it with me and make a worthwhile life with me, I'd be happy because it was my decision to give up to gain with him. I want to know that if I spent my life somehow changing the lives of others and that means I have to be alone, I'd be happy because I made the decision. 

 I don't want to feel stuck in my own life.  That is just pathetic.  And I think I've decided not to be pathetic.

I think Sherlock is proud of me for that.