November is National Novel Writing Month. I skipped the first 4 days because I was busy (horrible excuse) and finally started yesterday. I'm not sure if I'll finish or if I'll even do a week or three days, but I started yesterday. Day 1 was fun! Apparently I'm doing a semi-autobiographical first-person novel. I wasn't going to share anything or even tell anybody I was doing it, but life is short and it seems better to be more open than closed, right? So I'm kind of sort of doing NaNoWriMo. Here's a small excerpt from yesterday:
In a Western Pennsylvania rest stop I was standing at a urinal when a short, skinny, balding old man began quoting from the Bible.
"The grass withereth, the flower fadeth, but the word of God shall stand for ever!"
I zipped up and scooted next to him, washing my hands under lukewarm water. He was still holding one finger high in the air as I saw his reflection watching my reflection. I stuck my longest fingernail between my two front teeth and attempted to shimmy out some beef jerky I bought at a gas station in Philadelphia.
"What do you know about Michigan?" I asked.
The old man slowly lowered his hand, blinked heavily and nodded slightly. "My nephew lives in Michigan. Detroit, Michigan."
I made a noise with my mouth, still attempting to remove the beef with my tongue. "How old is your nephew?"
"Twenty-seven."
"I'm twenty-seven!"
He nodded. "Beeee careful young man." His index finger turned toward me. "Beware the eeeevil, son."
"I have like no gap between these teeth. How does food find it's way in there?"
"The wrath of the Lord is at hand!"
I brushed my hair to the side with my fingers, then patted the old man on the back. "Thanks for the advice, sir," I said before leaving.
"Beeee careful."
I arrived in Grandview at 10:30 PM and found that the sun had not yet set. What a strange place, my new home!
My friend Lori e-mailed us last week and said she wouldn't be able to make it to small group because she might have gotten the swine flue. So I made fun of her. I love my friends.
You start out as a reprobate, a sinner bound for the gates of hell, or at least that's what you later learn was your spiritual standing before you knew Christ.
And then you meet Christ and you love the church and you love going to church even if the music is slow and boring; you even start reading the Bible and find pieces of meaning in the the archaic narratives.
You continue in this state for a time, a long time, and then something bad happens. You respond in the way you're supposed to respond--crisis of faith averted. The Bible helped you and Jesus walked with you and there you still were, sitting in church on Sundays with the church, singing old songs and learning about Calvary and hell and how wonderful it is that you've been covered in blood.
And then you meet people who say that they love Jesus but they don't love Jesus in the same way you love Jesus and so they probably don't really love Jesus.
But a seed was dropped and you don't even need water for it to grow because it hasn't yet broken the soil and so you can't remove it. Soon after this you meet some more people who say they love Jesus but they don't love Jesus in the same way you love Jesus and yet they're less of a jerk than you are and that presents a bit of a problem. The seed grows even in the dark.
And then life happens.
And this time you sit with your emotions a bit longer before bee-lining for the default position you know is expected of you. Everyone around you knows the answer and you know the answer, too, and yet its truth rings less loudly this time. This is honesty breaking through. This is your soul radar asking more loudly what you're going to do when the answers and the truth have cut their ties.
