Spirit half empty

Last semester, I was given a devotional/Bible study called Ask to Listen. I went through it because being attuned to the Holy Spirit sounded wonderful, and I hadn't much experienced it at that point. I'm currently reading Francis Chan's Forgotten God, partially because it's required reading and the rest because being attuned to the Holy Spirit sounds wonderful, and I haven't much experienced it at this point.

In my mind's eye, listening to the Holy Spirit looks like receiving a constant stream of messages, little nudges and reminders throughout the day that help me do this, point me in that direction, keep me spiritually "in line." Looking at this picture, though, I'm not sure I should categorize it as mere wishful thinking or just willful misunderstanding. The more I read about being filled with the Spirit, the less it seems to be about the messages we're given.

I'm looking for guidance, but maybe that's not the point. The people I read about don't seem to be seeking words, but seeking to be filled. Take Brother Lawrence, for example, a humble monk who constantly practiced the presence of God:

"My day-to-day life consists of giving God my simple, loving attention. If I am distracted, he calls me back in tones that are supernaturally beautiful.... Sometimes I imagine that I'm a piece of stone, waiting for the sculptor. When I give myself to God this way, He begins sculpting my soul into the perfect image of His beloved Son. At other times, I feel my whole mind and heart being raised up into God's presence, as if, without effort, they had always belonged there.... I want Him to do whatever He pleases with me; all I want is to be completely His."

- Fifth letter of Brother Lawrence

This is what I'm missing. I don't really want to complain about how much I suck, because I did that last week. But I want the Spirit to be evident in my life. I want to do better than just slipping in that I'm Christian in casual conversation with my coworkers. I want to cure my sudden onset of ADD while I'm praying. I want the peace that comes with fully and completely trusting God, or so I've heard. I want more of the Spirit.

I know He's here. He's worked miracles of providence before my eyes. But I still think I'm living with my spiritual glass half empty. Thinking of it as "half full" instead doesn't help.

I want to be Spirit-filled.

Fighting Myself

This is the second year I've been home for J-term, and I hope it's the last. Not because I don't love being with my family or just being sacked out on the couch with my cat, but I miss Taylor. I know someday I'm going to graduate and go on to other things, but right now, I miss the environment. I miss trying to balance classes with theater and noveling and friends. I miss the challenge, going to chapel, and having random theological discussions. The truth is, I feel a lot more removed from God when I'm at home.

This is stupid. Nothing can separate us from the love of God, etc. My problem is I know this -- I've learned it and experienced it in many ways -- but I currently have a hard time "feeling" it. Spiritual dry spells aren't new to any Christian, and I can't say that this is a particular low point in my life. But it's frustrating.

I'm a very strongly emotional person.  Because I can easily fall prey to feelings, I also have an exceptionally high regard for sincerity. (Lying to or manipulating people is one of the few things that can really make me unwilling to forgive.) I hate manufactured emotion, and I have a very hard time being cheerful when I'm not.

Is this a good thing because it makes me want to be sincere with God? I dunno. Is this a bad thing because I'm less willing to praise God when I don't feel like it? Almost certainly. I've heard this point argued a dozen times before. I believe emotions are useful and enhance our relationship with God, but things purely emotional are transient.

For now, I'm fighting myself. I guess it's just good to know that God always wins.

Stuck

I don't like the term writer's block. It's not just that it sounds like a nasty thing for us writers, which it is. Mostly it's frustrating because I feel like writer's block is my fault. Am I too uncreative, too moody, too caught up in "the muse" that I can't write whenever I want to? Not usually. Occasionally, however, I simply get stuck because of story reasons.

One thing that can really drag a novel down -- or help it fly -- is the pacing. This causes that, a plot point moves us forward, there's some reaction after this scene to absorb previous action, ebb and flow, purposeful movement. Some writers are masters at this, whether by instinct or training. I like to think it's something I'm tuned to -- I love to pay attention to pacing in novels -- but I definitely don't have the mastery I need to execute it properly.

Is the voice in my head that's telling me there's something wrong with this chapter responding to my sense for pacing? Or is it some other problem with the story entirely? Is it just the voice of self-consciousness and self-criticism that opposes anyone who takes on a creative project? Or am I not being dedicated enough?

Right now, I'm looking at some of the bigger, structural elements of the story. I'm finding that the minor characters I put in have to be there, but need to serve a greater purpose by the end. I have a plot point with tension that needs to emerge in a less contrived way. I need to make the causes leading up to it make better sense, and I have to make an escape seem surprising, yet inevitable.

Oh, chapter five, you needy document.

And chapter five comes pretty early. It's like a foundation for the story -- if I screw up the early parts, the later parts aren't going to have anything sound to stand on.

So I take a break to complain, define my problems for the Internet to see, and move on. What am I doing here? I've got revising to do.