Mon, Mar. 3
... For we know we shall find our own peace of mind
Something I wrote for Movement class... some of it is a bit of a conglomeration of things I wrote about a year ago, but it's new, too. How does it all fit together? How does movement and my body fit into everything else--my faith, my art, my life? How does this lead to what God wants me to be? I'm not sure. I don't know if this is what Tracey wanted me to write, but it's what came out, anyways. And I want to keep it, but I don't have a disk on me, so this is my way of saving my paper. For now, anyways.There are days when I'm waiting for someone to give me one good reason why I should stay here. Why I shouldn't leave this place. Why I should remain and develop who I am, even when it feels like everyone else is against me?
Because of this; that's why. Because I know that there are people out there who want the same things I do. Who truggle with the same things as me. Who know what it feels like to be longing for that elusive something that they can't quite reach; that they want to grasp and contain but that is so much wilder and larger than they are. Only in them do I feel that sense of kindred spirit. The struggle between being me and being God's, and learning to reconcile the two realities into one, is deeper than I can handle on my own, and in these days, I know I�m not alone. No matter how divided we may be, there are certain things that bind us, and things we have to learn from each other. We need to crave the understanding that each of us offers.
These are the hours from which I come away refreshed. In which I realize again why I'm here, why I do what I do. In which I rediscover that there are, in fact, others who understand, who strive for the same things and know the frustrations, joys, failures, and heartaches of reaching for that elusive goal of trying to change the world. Of going out there and changing Christian theatre, one play at a time. A worthy goal? To some. To some, it is no better than heathenish dabblings in some demonic activity.
But I am God's tool. All I can be is summed up in the fact that God chooses to use me--a little child with no experience who just keeps messing things up--to touch his creation. He chose to give me the gifts that I have so that he could reveal himself to others through me. This is part of what is God's image in me, and my body is just one of the tools. I can't give myself fully to God if I'm not at least partially aware of what I have to offer.
I am, in many ways, the sum of my heart, soul, mind, and strength, and that is what God calls me to love him with. They are inseparable in this lifetime, and I can't focus on one at the expense of the others. I need to understand how they fit together and how they work together, so that I can love God fully. My body is not evil; it is God-given, and I need to understand why God gave it to me, and what I can do with it to glorify him.
The balance between ego and humility is a fine line. As a Christian artist, it's so easy to fall to one extreme or the other. Either we say, "It's not me at all. It's all God, he did it all, I did nothing," or we fall to the other extent and say, "I'm so great, look what I did!" It's a hard balance to reach, though. Yes, God gives the gift and the talent in the first place. He's the one makes people able to write, act, build, preach, sing, anything. Without him, I would be nothing. I wouldn't be able to put any of the talents he's given me to use, because I wouldn't have any.
At the same time, though, when I do a show, I put hours of work into it. I pour myself into it and it becomes a part of my life. I research, work, pray, and dedicate myself to making it the very best it can be. But when someone compliments me afterwards and tells me I did a good job, do I have to discredit all my work and say, "I did nothing"? I didn't do nothing! No, I didn't give myself the talents, but I did use them honorably. Wouldn't it make sense that God wants that from us? He gives us all this great potential, and if we only ever build it to half of what it could be, we're cheating God, in a way. Wouldn't it make sense that he gave us the ability and the potential, so he would want to see it become all it can be. It's not so we can prove that we're great, but so that it can bring greater glory to him and we use what he gives us, what he created in us to be birthed.
The concepts of grace and mercy are far too large for me to fathom. Too amazing, too wonderful, too life-changing. I don't understand them, and I think that if I could, if I could take away the mystery, they would lose their power--the wonder, excitement, and freshness of it all.
Too often, though, it becomes a stale concept for me--something I take for granted and fail to see the power of it. I shove it to the back of my mind and forget that it's there, until I need it, and then conveniently, it's pulled out of the back pocket of my mind, ready to be used again until I don't need it anymore.
How dare I? How dare I treat God's compassion with such disdain? How can I be so flippant about something that cost so much--that cost everything?
Sometimes I forget that life is real. We live in such a society where we detach ourselves from real life that when it comes to living, we don't know what to believe and what not to. For instance, amusement parks. The thrill is all imaginary. You strap yourself into a ride that has been tested for safety standards over and over again, by someone trained to run it, with warnings against every condition you could possibly have that would make it unsafe, and it's timed so you're not on too long. And we feel like we're taking risks. What's the worst that's going to happen? In most cases, only that you'll get a bit motion sick and regurgitate your lunch.
And so, in life, we forget that it's real. We think it's all just some big ride, designed to give a thrill and then we get off, safe and sound.
Unfortunately, what they forget to tell us is that it's not like that. I keep forgetting that, though. I keep thinking that what I do won't affect things. I keep forgetting that everything I do has an impact; that there is an eternal perspective and impact to it all. That the people I give my heart to now will affect the way my marriage goes 25 years from now, or how I'll raise my kids. That when I teach Sunday School, I'm not just passing time; I'm touching lives. That when I screw up, I'm not just making things more difficult for a few days, but I'm affecting something--however small--for a long time, if not forever. You know, chain reactions.
But I keep forgetting that. I keep thinking this is all virtual reality. I can get off the ride at the end and be none the worse for wear, except maybe a little bit of queasiness. I'm trapped in nice and tight with my safety belt, inspections, safety standards, trained operators, and timed ride, and I'm not going to get hurt in the process.
Until I get off, and I'm not just queasy, but I wonder where things went wrong, and why I thought that the roller coaster would be so much fun. But the ride's over, and there's nothing left to do about it, except put it out of my mind, and go get on the next ride. The next cheap thrill. The next one will just be virtual, right? One of these days, it'll turn up safe.
The inspiration... the struggle between ego and humility... the fact that we need to be the best at what we do. Not because we are great, but because God is great, and we do this in His name. God didn't create this world shoddily; why do we think we can only be half as creative as he's made us to be?
Ask the questions. Let the Holy Spirit give the answers. Our job is not to tie up every loose end and make every message crystal-clear with our interpretation of what God is trying to say. We are the channels. Artists are channels, onstage and off. Allow the Holy Spirit to work through us onstage to bring up the questions, and trust him to answer them in his own time, whether or not that directly nvolves us later on. Be willing. Be available. Be ready. But I can't be pushy. God works in timing that we don't understand, and I'm just along for a ride that I don't understand, trying to make sense of these vast riches that have been poured out into my lap. I want to be a good steward, and I want to love God with my heart, soul, mind, and strength, but I can't do it without divine wisdom and a plea for understanding.
One year ago today: I was just reading the list of kids who are going on the Victoria missions trip, and two of them are some of my former FACES kids from my first year. At that point--two years ago--neither of them had any church involvement at all, and since then, they've both become really involved here. It's such an incredible thing!
infinite || abyss
posted at 2:16 p.m.
