What J-term is like

For the last two years, I've spent the month of January at home, not doing much of consequence. Interterm at Taylor, or J-term, as it is commonly called, was purported to be strange, some mythological hybrid of class and vacation, homework and movie-watching. Being home seemed like a better option than squishing around my financial aid to figure out how to pay a month's room and board, so J-term remained a mystery to me.

But no more. This year, stars and scholarships aligned, and I got to take a speculative fiction writing course taught by Jeff Gerke. The class itself was excellent. It and a couple of Writing Excuses episodes have gotten me really thinking about applying myself to writing as a craft with a work mindset. But college isn't just about the classes -- it's about the experience! So, what was my first J-term like?

One thing I'd been told was that J-term was supposed to be much more relaxed. You typically only take one class, so schedules aren't crazy, a lot of time the homework's not too bad, and the rest of the time you get to hole up and watch movies.

 I'm taking two classes and I have two and a half on-campus jobs. Also, things got off to a bumpy start because snowstorm.

I took this a few days ago after a lot of the snow melted, it snowed more, and then everything got plowed nicely again. But there is no escaping the wind.

Things were weird for a while because a significant number of students couldn't make it to campus on time, classes couldn't start, but they had a bunch of students living in dorms that needed to be fed. So what did Taylor do? It organized a fleet of campus policemen and other employees to drive students to the dining commons. It was very interesting, and I'm glad my school cares so much.

Eventually, things settled into what must be semi-normal operations. I woke up for 8 a.m. classes. I adjusted to homework. I reverted to being social with people to whom I'm not related. (It's amazing how quickly I relapse when given the opportunity.) Classes and life moved on.

Things were different because some people were home and some new people moved in. At times, I had a ton of work to do and other times I could relax. I had two game nights with friends. I built a snowman. I've watched several movies with my roommate. I wrote 35 pages of fiction and attended a great theater workshop.

I'm glad J-term has room for things like board games, snowmen, and movies. At the same time, the work has been a good mental preparation for the coming semester. Now I have a week left to convalesce, write, and work on theater stuff.

Overall experience, positive. Even including the snowstorm. (The cold never bothered me, anyway.)

And I'm already excited for a new semester.

People

This week, I have

• assigned mailboxes for 54 people.
• had heart-to-heart conversations with at least 5 people.
• met probably 70 people I didn't know before.
• consciously made time to talk to people. 
• hugged at least 30 people.
• hunted down many people so I could give them keys and information.
• made my room presentable so I won't be embarrassed when people come in it. 
• thought about the people from last year I miss.
• worried that people don't like me.
• been surprised when unexpected people have liked me.
• reminded myself multiple times to write letters to two people, which I still have not done.
• prayed with groups of people probably an average of three times a day.
• realized I need to call people back home.
• remembered what it was like being a freshmen two years ago and being in these other peoples' shoes.
• taken time away from people.
• had two emotional breakdowns from being around people too much.
• been shocked and amazed at how God provides ways for people to survive in places where they would normally be fish out of water.

I joked earlier today that I had managed to fool everybody into thinking I was a naturally loving person. But I don't feel like I was faking it. This week of returning to school, training with other dorm staff members, and greeting freshmen and returners has stretched me in ways I don't think I would have been capable of handling two years ago. I would have been even more of a crying wreck -- this week was not without its struggles.

I couldn't have done this on my own. Under my own power, I would not have been able to deal with so many people. I would not be able to function without God.

My dependence on Him isn't perfect, but I'm ever marveling at the ways God can take regular, flawed people and enable them to do things far removed from anything they thought they would ever do. Really, I think that's one of the things He does best.

What did God do for you this week?

The new normal

I'm back at Taylor, and it feels quite normal.

I went to my Indiana church this morning. I am in a different room this year, but on the same floor, and the walls are the same and the type of doors are the same and the mess from moving in is the same. My freshman year, I came early for orientation and these last two years I've come early for theater and discipleship activities, so that feels normal too, even though campus isn't full. 

Summer patterns are gone. (This means no more Wednesday book reviews, but I will post reviews whenever I do have time to finish a book.) Already, I'm anticipating trying to do too much at once and being tired and going to friends' game nights. I can imagine the angle of the sun when I slip out the side door after chapel. I can ignore the voices that come from the street below my window at 11 at night, because those are typical.

But there's something that's not going to be the same as last year: the people. I have seven brand new people I'm supposed to take care of, as well as a few I know but not well. I have to make room for them in my life. 

I've made it possible for me to ignore people a lot. I'm used to working alone, I excuse myself for not remembering names and faces, and I like to take for granted that others are better suited to helping people than I am. For me, these things are normal.

I don't want to slip into patterns this year. I want a discernment that shows me what steps I need to take each day, and for that discernment to result in intentionality in forwarding relationships. (Sounds like a God thing, huh?) I'm not good at these things. They're not embedded in my normal. I hope to put them there.

Looking forward

And in a moment, summer was pretty much over.

Well, there's actually still a month and a half of summer. But having been public schooled (alas), seasons for me tend to revolve around the school calendar. Heightened awareness of events ahead is making me feel like it's all coming to an end.

In my summer post from two and a half months ago, I outlined a bunch of the things I wanted to do. So far the scorecard reads like this:

Books read: 3/8 I had planned, but I read 5 I hadn't planned, so pretty much even.
Things done: 4/6. One of the things I have yet to do is a crochet project, but I have several hours of sitting in a car coming up that I can fill nicely. The last thing is harder... finishing the novel.

Someone suggested to me recently that I should take a break and write something else, since I was stuck. That sounded very appealing, but I have some simmering stubbornness that makes me want to finish the darn thing. A look back at the work I've done this summer will turn into a look of confusion, since it pretty much looks like it did when I left school, resolutions and lifestyle changes or no.

But when I look ahead, I start to get excited. Because in the future, I fix all the problems in the story and then it becomes awesome.

Other good things are also coming soon.

I'm going on vacation with my family. Pretty ecstatic about it.
I'm going back to school, where I will take on three jobs and audition for the musical. I also can't wait to meet the new girls on my floor. Next year looks like what I've wanted since I visited Taylor when I was a junior in high school.
I'm doing NaNoWriMo this year whether it kills me or not. I have an idea that's slowly cooking, and when I start making progress on my current novel, I'm going to begin planning for my new one (which I'm actually hoping will turn out to be a novella).

In the near future, there are people I want to see and places I want to be. There's a reason fall's my favorite.

Judging you

For me, the theme for this past year at Taylor has been "this place is not perfect." I'm one of those people who will gush about our intentional community and servant leadership, but this does not stop the cracks from showing. Though Taylor University for me has been a haven and wellspring of Christian fellowship, I'm learning more and more that this isn't the case for everybody. People have been hurt. Some feel isolated or unwelcome, judged.

Not all Christians act like Christians. But if everyone at Taylor were perfect, complete with perfect administration and academic systems, everyone would be happy all the time, right?

Actually, no. Because there are people who, no matter how worshipful the worship or kind the leaders or amicable the students, do not want to be part of it. And there are people who are hurt and don't know how to enter into the Body. These problems need to be addressed with love and prayer.

And then there are people who give out judgments like candy on a parade, and their counterparts: people who complain about how everybody judges everybody. These also need to be addressed with love and prayer -- and, I think, in the spirit of love, just a little mockery, too.

It's okay, I'm going to start by mocking myself. The following are just a few judgments I make on a regular basis and the things that instigate them.

Crowd screams for someone making an announcement during chapel.
Judgment: Yeah, okay, they're from your wing. Shut up already.

Someone I know makes an announcement during chapel.
Judgment: Whoohoo!!! This is worth getting excited over!

Loud male voices are heard outside.
Judgment: Broho boys are up to something... 

Person whooshes past on a longboard.
Judgment: Insta-cool points. You appear to be a free-spirited individual who cares not for the social constraint of having to actually walk with people.

Pants are purposefully worn to show underwear and belted so they stay that way.  
Judgment: Obviously you don't know the purpose of pants or how to wear them.

Combination of the previous two.
Judgment: ..... I no longer know what to think of you.

These things probably say more about me than I know. Are any of these assessments in any way justifiable? Am I the problem at Taylor?  Do we make up more problems than actually exist?

My point? Love people. Don't assume too much. And don't neglect to notice when you're the one doing the judging.

Two Voices

Most people know me to be a cheerful and whimsical person. I'm the kind of girl who gets a Happy Meal at McDonald's and plays with the Hello Kitty toy. I sometimes skip instead of walking. I splash in puddles, crunch leaves, and generally enjoy the small things in life.

However, some few know the other side of me -- the one that's analytical and critical. This can be useful, and it's often how I approach problem solving and try to improve myself. The problem is that it has a tendency to manifest in the form of complaints and judgments. Projecting both voices onto my surroundings can leave me stuck between convictions. I'm still trying to decide if the exercise is useful.

Turning these voices loose on Taylor University results in conversations/impressions like this:

All the wonderful people everywhere!
Those couple of people that set off the "rage" trigger in my brain, maybe because they're contrasted against all the wonderful people.

So many ways to get involved in the community, resulting in fun and meaningful service!
Many possibilities for getting bogged down with responsibilities and others' expectations. Can you really give yourself to everything?

Late night conversations and movies with friends.
Time you really should spend doing something useful with your life. Like, weren't you supposed to be finishing your story?

A tight-knit community with potential for wonderful relationships.
A place where some still find judgement and nowhere to turn.

There are so many ways to learn about God and find growth.
But are you depending on your surroundings to grow your spiritual life?

I love learning!
You're not going to be in a classroom the rest of your life, at least not literally. Try harder.

There's so much beauty everywhere.
Are you appreciating it, or cultivating it?

Though at the outset the first voice seems largely superior (or at least happier), it gives many observations that aren't inherently useful. It needs to be tempered by the second voice. The thing I want to keep in mind is that the two voices don't have to be in opposition. They can work together. And when they actually do, I accomplish the things I consider most worthy. When they don't, I feel like I'm chipping at some stone block that refuses to be shaped.

Lately, I've been spending lots of time trading in granite dust. I think it's time to get down to the actual sculpture. I love Taylor, though I can see many cons among the pros. All I can do is try to make something beautiful, anyway.

Shifting Perspectives

Twice I've had the privilege of flying in a small, private airplane. In any mode of travel, I love to look out the window, and plane travel is no exception. I like the view much better at 5,000 feet than the higher altitude of a commercial jet. You can see cars driving on roads like tiny bugs and groups of windmills like white needles coming out of the ground. Golf courses are perfectly smooth and green, but look as if someone came along and scooped out a few spoonfuls for the sand traps. Over the Midwest, almost everything is flat. Fields and roads look like they were marked out with rulers. The only things that look natural are the rivers and groups of trees around them, and sometimes you can see how the water has shaped the landscape, leaving wrinkles in the otherwise even fabric of the earth.

Being removed from the surface changes your perspective in interesting ways. Rather than feeling the wind blow snow across the ground, you can see the strange patterns it makes settling into the fields. The haze of the horizon becomes a perfect circle you can see all around you. Suddenly, you become aware of how large the earth is, and how that enormous distance to the ground is just a thin layer of air and vapor. (How often do pilots have existential moments?)

Simple placement can change how you see things. This is imminently obvious, but the impact of physical space on our minds and emotions isn't always so.

Today, I moved back into my dorm room. I spent much of my last week at home sitting and pondering how weird it was that soon I'd be returning to different spaces and routines. After a month and a half of near-uninterrupted calm, the idea of going to classes and seeing brick buildings out of my window instead of trees and an empty cornfield was almost inconceivable. Now, everything feels normal. The sight of the road leading onto campus was practically more familiar than my kitchen.

I've moved several times, so I very quickly adjust to the idea of different places being "home." Taylor University is home. Lying on the couch with my cat on my stomach is home. Driving in the car with my boyfriend whilst talking about superheros is home. Still, each of those places can change how I see the world and myself.

When I think of the view at 5,000 feet, I wonder what it would be like to  see my life like that all the time. Small things would fade away. Maybe I would be instantly granted a permanent serenity, an ability to transcend my surroundings. Or maybe I would just laugh at the existential moments and the dramatic wording that comes with them. If I try, maybe I can take the new perspective that comes with the shift in surroundings and unite with it a little more wisdom.

Hello, spring semester. I'm trying to see you with new eyes.

Tech is a dirty word

I've been busy enough lately that one of the things I've not been working on is my novel, Void. I think I'm starting to suffer separation anxiety. I hope to give it a larger portion of my attention soon, but in all my busyness elsewhere (theater, notably), my mind has still been wandering back to it.

In the story, technology for the common people has been suppressed to the point that engines and electronics have legendary status. So, when trying to come up with a mild "curse" word that would be consistent with this world, I decided that "tech" was the word to use. I first considered it because I thought it was funny -- haha, tech sounds like heck. "To tech with that!" "The tech do you think you're doing?" Eventually, this evolved into the adjective "tecking."

After awhile, it stopped being what was basically a funny placeholder for until I thought of a better word. I started to realize how it fit in the consciousness of the people of Void's world. It's a part of the culture I've created, and it's become a symbol and watchword for other points in the story.

However, the thought process that brought me there is kind of weird for me. I don't cuss in real life. Really. Not at all, unless "darn!" and the occasional "crap!" count. I grew up in a house where nobody cursed (at least not in my hearing) and I didn't start absorbing foul language until middle school. By then, other forms of expression were habit enough that I could block it out. During high school and working in various places, I was shocked by just how much profanity was tossed around. The f-word? It's ridiculous! It doesn't even make sense, and I've listened to people who use it three or four times a sentence.

So why use even fake curse words in stories?

Firstly, my characters aren't me. They don't come from the same background. They come from difficult lives where they've absorbed a lot of stress, pain, and in all likelihood, cursing. It can be a descriptor for the people, a normalizer, and another way to flesh out the story. (Brandon Sanderson's "Stormfather!" and "storm you!" in Way of Kings is a good example of this.) Also, I think there are times in stories when its absence can be conspicuous. Simply mentioning that a character cursed without saying the actual word can be awkward when done too often.

Lately, though, I'm wondering if the use of "tech!" was subconscious for me. "Tech" in the theater world is short for "technical" -- the rehearsals that happen just before a performance, in which everything goes wrong. Actually, it's when all the technical aspects have to come together. Lighting and sound cues, makeup, props, set, everything has to be finished. To the cast and crew, tech week is about as fun as hours of intense boredom mixed with little sleep, random bursts of intense physical activity, and frustration when, as said before, all the things go wrong.

Last week was tech week for Taylor theater's production of Waiting for Godot. The frustration that comes with tech was very much on my mind. Still, it was a good week for me. I got through lots of work and obstacles and survived intact. Now I'm looking forward to going through some of the same processes in Void.

So, fantasy writers -- leery of stooping to profanity? Trying to come up with suitable modes of expression to portray intense anger or frustration? Be classy; make something up! The right word might already be swimming around in your head.

My Triumphant Return... sort of

The very last sentences of my last blog post declared my intention to write soon and often. I'm ashamed to admit that that was three months ago. My excuse is that my house has terrible wifi -- so terrible that my laptop refuses to connect to it, out of principle -- and that our home computer is so slow and old that it is a pain to use.

Since I don't believe enough people read this that my not posting could be considered even mildly irritating, I'll spare the apologies. Mostly, I'm sorry for myself. I've been missing the opportunity to exercise my writing brain and the dedication it takes to keep up a regular blog.

I could again promise that I'll write regularly and often. But actions speak louder than words, even occasionally more than the written word. So, if you're reading this, keep coming back.

I am again back at Taylor University. I've been here a week and a half, so my return to the school did not perfectly coincide with my return to the blog. I've been busy. The good and bad thing about being part of such a wonderful community is that there are many worthy things in which to invest one's time. I had to pick one of the most time-consuming: theater. Being properties master means arriving before classes start and participating in theater boot camp. Really, "boot camp" translates to "reading through the plays for the season, hanging around with cool theater people, and working in the shop a whole lot." Thanks to the work of some wonderful volunteers, my props loft is looking a lot cleaner and may even pass fire code inspections. There's work to be done, but after stacking furniture, bags of fake snow, suitcases, more candles than any one theater could possibly go through in ten years, kitchen utensils, fake weapons, wine glasses, windows, ancient telephones, typewriters, bales of straw, yard decorations, and the paraphernalia of many shows past, I'm starting to feel like I know what I'll be capable of doing this year.

My other major responsibility is one that requires a lot from me as well, though in a different way. I'm discipleship assistant on my floor, a.k.a. DA. This means I lead floor prayer and generally look out for the spiritual well-being of the girls with whom I live. They are fantastic, strong, and talented people. I am hugely blessed to live with them and with the wonderful people of my dorm in general. I'm an introvert, but I will have no problem wanting to invest my time and care in their lives. But in that, I'm also going to have to focus on my spiritual growth, not just theirs. I love Taylor because I can see God moving everywhere. Still, it's easy to take that for granted. I can't just sit and watch what He does. I have to ask Him to work in me.

There is one other big project which I mentioned in my last post. I'm still planning to submit my novel, Void, to a publisher come February. To complete draft two, I decided I would participate in Camp NaNoWriMo, a summer version of the crazy writing dash that usually fills my November. I couldn't have picked a busier month to do it in, but I have a day and a half left and only 6,000 words to write. Then comes the revising.

I may have returned to the blog with my tail between my legs, but I came back to Taylor filled with hope and joy. I've already been stressed to the point of tears. I've already been too busy to keep up with my word count goals and other things. But now, everything's settling into place.

Pray for me, if you're so inclined. I'll need it. Pray for Taylor, for the endeavors of the students, and all the things God has planned for us for the year. The only thing I know is that I have a lot to learn.

An Everything Post

I've failed as a blogger for the last month or so. I plead busyness, though no one is accusing me but my conscience. So, here is an explanation of things that have been going on in my life, partly as a means to reflect and partly to organize:

• I was props assistant for Taylor Theater's last play of the season, Noises Off! I'll be replacing our current props master next year. The play was hilarious, crazy, and tiring, and being part of it taught me a lot about how theater is run. It's also making me anticipate craziness for next year -- I've got some organizing to do, and it will be a significant time commitment. I'm excited to see what I can come up with.
• For my professional writing class (my major), we finished book proposal projects. We were divided into publishing houses and had create and pitch a book. Since I had a finished draft, I was the author for my group. I had a great team to work with who did wonderfully on the marketing and business aspects. However, I had to take a long hard look at my NaNoWriMo draft and get some organizing done so I could include an outline, chapter synopses, and finished sample chapters for the proposal. Now I have a plan for actually finishing the draft, and my goal is to submit it to a publisher by my birthday in February next year. By the way, it's called Void. Here's the cover I made for it:

Four hundred years ago, an uprising threw down a selfish, near-immortal government. Now, it’s been replaced by the Void, a tyrannical empire that suppresses all advanced technology except for that which it keeps for itself.

Still, there are rumors – rumors of an immortal prince biding his time, and rumors of a force mustering to overthrow the government once more.

The child leader Atom, rebel engineer Sel, and idealist healer Cade seek to change the world order again. Heading the secret Underground, they work to retrieve the technology that may bring back the ghost of the empire past.

            But what is Atom hiding? What is Sel trying to reconcile? And who is Valer, the Beast who may or may not be on their side?

•  I've been busy with classes, but I've also made time to be around friends. Have I ever mentioned here how much I love my dorm and the Taylor community in general?  There are wonderful people here, and I meet more of them every day. I may have a terrible time remembering the names, but familiar faces are cheering.
• Though I've published book reviews at Christian Book Previews and Church Libraries magazine, I'm officially going to be published in a book for the first time (not counting a poem in fourth grade before I even really knew I wanted to be a writer.) It's a devotions book from Livingstone, and I'll be pleased as punch to be listed as a coauthor along with several of my fellow professional writing majors.
• Finals are this week, and then I go home. It's really strange to think I'll be home in a week, though I'll be happy to finally settle into our new house months behind the rest of my family. I also need to get a job, so that will be on the top of my list as soon as I reach Iowa soil. However, I'm still focused on Taylor University, finishing classes, and marveling at how my freshman year has gone by so quickly. Expect more thoughts on that soon.
• The main reason I'm at Taylor is that I want to be in a place where God is the focus. In high school I wanted that environment very badly. Being here hasn't disappointed. I have a great church and have learned a lot about the Bible from studying it in a classroom setting. The joy that gives me led me to add a Biblical literature minor. I've been getting to know the Word better, and that's opening up all kinds of pathways around me and in my mind. I don't think I'm the one picking where I'm going, though. Thank God.

 The mechanisms that produce writing in my brain heat up quickly. After weeks of not writing, my fingers are itching to keep going. Though I've been busy, I love expressing my thoughts here. For anyone who actually stops by here regularly, this is a good thing, because you can expect new material soon. Until then, happy Internet traveling.

Swallowed Up In Victory

He sought to counsel and calm the despairing man by pointing out to him the man of resignation, and transform the grief that looks down into the grave by showing it the grief which looks up to the stars.  -- Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

One of my favorite Bible passages is 1 Corinthians 15. I latched onto it in middle school mostly because of the grandeur of Paul's phrases. I'm not sure I understood it at all for a long time. I know I'm still working on it.

I heard the famous lines -- "Oh death, where is your victory? Oh grave, where is your sting?" in a service memorializing Josh Larkin last night. I only met Josh once. I was in a friend's video she was shooting for class. Josh was picking songs for us to dance to. Since then, I'd seen him around, but I never really knew him.

It's amazing the outpouring of love I've seen at Taylor since his death. Now, I feel like I really know Josh, at least as most people will remember him. Strangely, in all the tears, it's also been a time of real joy and awakening. This week has brought me back to another time of joy and tears -- the death of my speech teacher, Mrs. Petrie.

I've been to funerals before, but they were quiet, family things where I didn't really know the person who died. Mrs. Petrie and Josh Larkin were different. Their memorial services were both a giant outreach into the Christian community. They placed me in the center of a mass of grieving people with their arms around each other. When those they loved spoke, the were obviously grieving. But I am amazed at how deeply and truly these communities -- the Blairsburg Missionary Alliance Church and Taylor University -- worship God in the face of death.

Mrs. Petrie was the most gentle and loving Christian lady I have ever met. Josh Larkin embraced the life he'd been given and loved everyone he knew. Death is an opportunity to give a long and hard look at a person's life. And they live on.

Mr. Larkin spoke to Taylor yesterday about the death of his son. There is a word I hope stays in use around campus: Joshian. That was a Joshian thing to do. We should all have Joshian love.

Really, we should all love like Christ. Mrs. Petrie exemplified that. I'm learning that Josh did, too. And because of the things I've learned, I can see what Christ's love looks like. I can strive to love as they did.

And I will strive.

For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality. When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written: “Death is swallowed up in victory.”

“O death, where is your victory?

O death, where is your sting?”

The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

C.S. Lewis Fangirling

The title of this blog should indicate that I like C.S. Lewis. If you didn't know anything about the Inklings, you might infer that I like C.S. Lewis because I go to Taylor University. (They don't ask you about it on your applications, but that's because they'll make you a fan if you aren't already.) And even if you didn't know that Taylor practically endorses C.S. Lewis as the fourth part of the trinity, you might simply be able to guess that I like C.S. Lewis because I am a Christian. Lewis brought deep theology to everyday life in such clear and beautiful language that even those who disagree with his message bow to his mastery. His works have place in the libraries of religious scholars and everyday Christian readers. C.S. Lewis is a king.

I first read The Screwtape Letters in high school. I was amazed at how deeply convicted I was in every chapter. I recognized something about me and my world in Screwtape's every sentence. It's a small book, but there's enough in there to think about for hours longer than it takes you to read.

Yesterday, I read The Great Divorce. The words were still fresh in my mind as I watched Anthony Lawton perform it on stage -- one man, many characters. No set. Just leaving you to imagine Heaven as C.S. Lewis explained it.

Not that Lewis pretended to be an authority on what Heaven was like. He considered himself very much an ordinary person. He always warned his readers that he did not know how everything looked or was -- but he could change one's way of thinking about Heaven, Hell, or God to a way much less distracted by biases. In The Great Divorce, his point was clear: we can't hold onto the things separating us from God. We can't demand the things we want on earth and expect Heaven, as well.

And then there's Narnia. And his theology books. Ones I haven't read, but am going to read someday. C.S. Lewis is an inspiration to Christian writers. After being under his influence, as it were, these past couple of days, I'm again in an admiring rush.

For Narnia and the North! For philosophy! For applied Christianity!

Thank you, Mr. Lewis.

Thoughts on Worship

Right now, I should be working on a story. I wrote the prologue this January, and now that I have a group for class counting on me, I need to get two more chapters finished. This shouldn't be too hard, but I'm struggling with what I want to happen combined with what works well.

So, to clear my head and get my writing mechanisms working, I want to write about something I've had problems with for a long time: worship.

I've always gone to pretty conservative churches, and as far as church music goes my family takes a conservative stance. Consequently, I have a hard time thinking of what is basically pop music in church as worship. Taylor plays lots of popular Christian music in chapel, and I've come to enjoy it for what it is: a large body of young Christians singing Christian music. Most of the songs I would consider very worshipful. My transition here was difficult, though.

I love to sing, and I'm pretty good at it. However, I'm used to singing in choirs. I'm also analytical and critical, which means that if one of the really off-key people happens to be standing behind me during chapel, I get very irritated and soon find myself in an attitude definitely not conducive to worship. I'm learning to get over this.

Today in chapel we had lots of prospective students, so chapel was all about Taylor Youth Conference this April. They opened with a Relient K song. I bristled.

And I really like Relient K -- but not in church. To me, there is a definite difference between Christian pop music and worship music. If we started singing Jesus Take the Wheel in church, I would leave, nice though it is to belt in the car. I doubt that lots of churches do this, but sometimes I think we're not that far off.

I strongly feel that the church doesn't need to advertise with music. We should not try to get people to like us because our music is just like the stuff everybody listens to. That's not how the church is supposed to be. But if any work can be an act of worship, which is also something I believe, what's the difference?

People doing what they are meant to do is glorifying to God. But does this mean that poorly-written, watered-down rock music is okay for a church setting of worship? Or am I just being a snob because I think "let love explode" is a terrible lyric? (I also really dislike the song How He Loves... poorly thought out word choice for the sake of being "poetic" and too much repetition for me.) Am I biased simply because I love the old hymns?

To use Christianese, it's a stumbling block for some people, me included.

Right now, I'm working at the front desk of my dorm. On the other side of the room, about ten people are gathered, sharing prayer requests and singing. There are two guitars and a variety of voices, some beautiful and some less than so. But they are indeed making a joyful noise. Every week, we sing many different songs. I like some more than others, but when I sing with these people, I do so with a worshipful heart.

It's one of the reasons I love my dorm. I'm thankful God has given me these nights of hall worship to look forward to. I think it's helping me approach corporate worship with a better heart. Will I ever reach conclusive answers? I don't know. But I'm learning much more about it here than I would have back home.

How do you approach worship?

Thoughts on Moving

For many and varied reasons, my family has moved a lot. I remember living in eight different houses, and there were a couple more when I was little. Most of it was for financial reasons, including this upcoming move, but now there is another, more hopeful reason.

We love this house.

Well, actually, we've spent the last couple weeks ripping out old nasty carpet and old nasty plaster and drywall and flooring so we don't have to do it once we move in. It's a big old farmhouse, the kind that is white and square with a porch. We still need to finish the bathroom -- drywall, pipes, tile, the works -- before we can get in. And we want to be in at the end of this week, which is when I go back to Taylor. As in many things this year, I feel unprepared. Unlike some other changes, though, I'm not panicked. Before we're fully moved in, I'll be two states away again, but this new house holds something for me: the promise of a home.

Because we've moved so much, I've adjusted to living in different houses pretty quickly. But home has some different, more comforting connotations. Any house can become home, but I've loved some homes more than others. I lived in Wyoming for two years, and it never really felt like home. However, Taylor University felt like home very quickly. Wyoming for me was not a peaceful environment. Going to college wasn't exactly peaceful, but I settled in right away because there are so many great people and things I love there.

Especially for my mom and me, this house is full of things we love and has potential for even more. It has a two-story screened-in porch -- we just have to replace a lot of windows. It has room for pasture -- we just have to put up the fence. There are all sorts of trees for a rope swing -- we just have to tie it up. It has sturdy old wooden floors -- we just have to refinish them. And I'm already planning what flowers I'm going to plant this summer.

For some of the reasons I gave earlier, I also feel like I've never really had a home church. Maybe houses would have felt more like home if we had one. Maybe one reason Taylor feels like home is that I like my church out there. Our current Iowa church is a good one, but no one from my high school went there, so I didn't make any close friends. But this past weekend, I was overwhelmed by the dedication of this church. About twenty people came to help tear down plaster, clean, and get junk out of the house. For their care for us, I am very grateful. They helped encourage my family. They helped make my home.

I'm eager to go back to Taylor, but I'm also eager to get back home in the summer so I can help my family fix up our dreamhouse. I finally feel like it's the place we're supposed to be. I finally feel like God's bringing us to a permanent home.

And how lovely is it to think that this home is the predecessor of a better one in Heaven?

Musicals

I make fun of chick flicks. My sister hates watching them with me because if I don't like them, I do nothing but make fun of the characters and ruin all the romantic moments. It's a kind of sappy I can't stand. I can, however, sit through the cheesiest of musicals without a single insult. I will shed tears. And when the happy ending comes, as it inevitably does, I dance and sing around the house for hours afterward.

Taylor Theatre's current production is A Christmas Carol. I have about as small a part as there is (yes, yes, "there are no small parts in a show"), but I delight to be part of the production. Tonight, we got our first standing ovation. Then we had our cast party. I was on my post-musical kick, being hyper and singing all over the place, and then I heard the best news I have in a long time.

There is a musical of Lord of the Rings.

I'm pretty sure my heart stopped.

Over the next few weeks I'll listen to it over and over again and learn everything there is to know about it, but I doubt I'll get used to it. I will never lose sight of that joy I find in a good musical. My all-time favorite is Les Misérables. I'm pretty much obsessed, and the joy it gives me never goes away. Every time I listen, it's still wonderful. From the few songs I've heard of the LotR musical, this one seems to evoke the same kind of feelings in me. What beautiful songs! What a wonderful story!

One of the things that I think makes a really good musical, movie, or TV show that started as a book is that it keeps the feel of the original story while being successful in its own medium. Les Mis did that and then some. As a huge LotR geek, I pick at the movies a lot, but I love them and appreciate them.

Here's hoping the LotR musical succeeds in that way. My sappy heart could use another musical.

Busy Days

One of the greatest things about Taylor is all of the opportunities to participate in the community. On the other hand, the worst thing about Taylor is all of the opportunities to participate in the community.

Case in point: for the past two weeks I've gone to musical and dance rehearsal, set construction training, worked in the costume shop, done lots of homework, ushered for a play, worked, gone to open houses, gone to small group, worked on projects, practiced piano, and spent more of my time than is feasible being entertained by all the weird stuff people do on campus. This weekend is Homecoming, and I'm going to go to the world-famous Airband tonight, usher for another play tomorrow night, go to a piano recital the night after, help a friend with a photography project, spend time in the library navigating a contorted fortress of databases that seem devoid of information on my research topic, probably work in the set and costume shops some more,  work on a math project, practice piano again, and try intramural soccer. In the next few weeks I'll  participate in a book discussion group and write book reviews for two more books I volunteered to read. That's right, I chose two books when I could have put it off or chosen just one, and my professor wants me to finish them as soon as possible.

There are many people even more committed than I am, and there are lots of classes with much heavier homework loads. Still, I tend to feel overwhelmed. My main problem seems to be that I like things that suck up my time (like theater). I'm glad I'm in such a wonderful place as Taylor and get to be a part of all this, but even more glad that it hasn't killed me yet.

Chapel

Taylor University has chapel three times a week. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at 10:00, the entire campus shuts down and all students and faculty, as if being pulled by an invisible force, head to Rediger Auditorium.

So far, chapel time has been used to talk about the different ministry opportunities at Taylor and to showcase guest speakers. This week we've had two of them -- The Improbable Philanthropist and Alistair Begg.

The story of the first is best said here, but the project is a beautiful children's book called The Boy, the Kite, and the Wind, written by Al Andrews. 100% of the profits go to charity, and the wonderful illustrations are by Jonathan Bouw, a professor here at Taylor. I think their goal is fantastic, and I know they will change lives with their story.

Alistair Begg is certainly more widely-known, and I was excited to hear him speak. I used to listen to him on the radio, and I remembered him as much for his Scottish accent as his wonderful sermons. Hearing him in person, however, you become absorbed in the message. He preached on Romans 8, and some of his phrases will stick with me for a long time. My favorite part, though, was a quiet moment in the middle of a prayer:

"All that we've said to You is secondary to what You've said to us."

And all God's people said, Amen.

Some Taylor students don't bother going to chapel. Most do, but one of the unique things about Taylor is that it's not mandatory. Most come because they really want to learn about and worship God. To those who don't, I say you're missing a lot.

The Beginning

Over half a century ago, a writing group called the Inklings met at an Oxford pub called The Eagle and Child. They met to talk, sometimes to laugh, sometimes for business, and often, I imagine, for pleasure. Though this young American student can't pretend to be an expert on the society, I profess to be greatly inspired by two of the members: Oxford professors J.R.R. Tolkien, and even more so, C.S. Lewis.

I am also a writer.  Not to say I've written anything I've tried to publish or even had anyone but my friends look at, but I want to do some of the things the Inklings did. I want to inspire people with my words. I want to grow to a point where people can hear my voice through my writing and for them to know what I believe. Obviously, C.S. Lewis did this. There are many Christian writers, but he reached a level of truth with such a powerful use of language that there can be no competition in my mind.

Maybe his is a higher star than I'll ever reach. But I'm off to a start.

Tomorrow, I will be moving in at Taylor University, one of the best Christian colleges in the Midwest. I will learn how to make a living as a writer, but I'm also expecting to grow as a Christian. I have so many questions. I think in time I'll have answers, or at least figure out what the real questions are.

So, right now there are three important things in my life I want to be able to share: my writing and where it's taking me, my time at Taylor University and how it will change me, and my growth as a Christian and the things I will learn and struggle with.

This blog will also help me write more often. That's one piece of advice often given to aspiring writers, along with another: write what you know. I love many things and have many interests, and those sorts of things are impossible to separate from the words that come out of you. That's one reason writing is so interesting.

Maybe a blog isn't an adventure, but college is supposed to be, and life as a Christian certainly is. If you want to find out what will happen, stick around. I don't intend to disappoint.