A Plan of Hope

Two years ago I read the book The Survivors Club by Ben Sherwood, and it has a bunch of stories in it about how certain people were able to survive major crisis situations. Such as the one presented to us, being stuck in the middle of the ocean with a tube-like package. Sherwood suggests that hope and a plan are one of the key ingredients to why certain people survive a crisis and others don't. That means the tubular package I am carrying with me on this raft in the middle of the ocean represents hope. I’m not opening the package until things get extremely bad. The package, or better yet my little tube of hope, keeps me motivated to stay alive. I imagine that for whatever reason there is something in that package that is going to help me get rescued. Some of you might be wondering why I wouldn’t just open it up, well because it’s sort of a mind trick. For me to survive I need hope, better yet, I need a plan of hope. My plan is to hold on to that package until I’ve come up with a better one. 
And to be honest, I don't need to be stuck on a raft in the middle of the ocean to know a plan of hope helps me survive. Every morning when I yank myself from my cozy bed, I do so with a hopeful heart. A heart that hopes that the day doesn't destroy me. A heart that believes something good can happen. A heart that hopes no matter what crisis hits, I will survive long enough to make it back to my bed again. 

I Write

I suppose being a male English major is some kind of oddity around the Northwest University campus. I didn't know that when I filled it in as my major on the application paper work. All I knew is that I loved words, words that filled the pages of great books. I wanted to learn how to do that, basically because I so desperately needed a way to communicate.

Why do you write? I guess there are a number of reasons why someone chooses to write. Maybe some of you are just naturally gifted writers,  to put it bluntly, you're just good at it. I write because I was a shy boy afraid to speak. I'm not talking about the shy little butterfly feeling you get before you have to get up infront of a group of people and give a speech. I'm talking about the shy, I'm-going-to-literally-die-here-and-now if I have to talk to anyone at all. I would and still do get physically ill if I have to do any sort of speaking engagement. I'm the kid who used to lay in his bed at night tucked under his covers worrying about the first day of school, and that the teacher might call on me to introduce myself to the class by saying my name and where I'm from. I absolutely hate introductions. All through my middle and high school years I would skip the days I had to give any sort of formal presentation. I would have rather gotten an F and my parents yell, lecture, and ground me, than put myself through talking infront of people for a minute or two.

But something happened while growing up a shy scared boy, I kept a lot inside. I'm a person who's passionate about a number of topics. I have a need to express myself and make my ideas known, because a few of them just might be good. I even have stories inside of me that scream to be unleashed into the world. But having such a strong case of social anxiety became a major problem with someone who desires to share such things. That was until writing found me. Writing became the outlet of release I needed in my life. I write because instead of joining people in the daily tradition of using their voices to communicate the deep happenings in their life, I prefer the art of scribbling, or typing, little meaningful marks all over a page. I write so that I too can share in the human experience.

If I Could Change The World

This is a popular question, which is usually followed by popular answers: I want world peace; I want to end poverty; I want to end all disease and suffering. There's nothing wrong with such aspirations, but who am I to change the world when I can't even change. Leo Tolstoy said, "Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself." How can I even begin to fix what's wrong in the world when there's so much wrong inside of me? I need to see the hurtful words I say and hear the sinful actions I do. When I begin to taste the change needed inside of me, maybe then I can start to think about the change that needs to happen around me. I suppose what I'm advocating is that everyone would begin to work on themselves. Leo Tolstoy also said, "True life is lived when tiny changes occur." If each of us changes a little of ourselves each day, then maybe the world will slowly transform into a great place. 

"C'est Moi!"

I am the Play-doh creation of a toddler who rolls me, flattens me, and contorts me. The child takes the different colored globs: hot orange, fiery red, explosive pink, burning yellow and smashes them together into some unknowable shape. Each color clings to the other, but somehow stands out on its own.

I am the painting of a preschooler who doesn't understand the value of a brush, but prefers dipping their fingers into all of the containers. They coat their small prints in the colors that catch their eye and then drag them slowly down the page. There are lines and fingerprints and mixing of colors. The page is just a bunch of motions that create unknowable forms.

I'm the coloring book of a kindergarten student who prefers people in their crayola land to be green, purple, and blue. One who doesn't bother staying in the lines, but somehow, through a lawless scribbling motion, creates their own structure. Everything, in some odd way, lines up and comes together to form a uniquely colorful design.

I'm a person who continually shapes, molds, and discovers himself.

Alignment With Truth

If I align myself with the Truth, the Truth will set me free from all material possessions the world offers. It's hard not to spend my money on worthless possessions; to live with needs instead of wants. Why is it so easy to get caught up in wanting to buy something you absolutely don't need? Material possessions are such a great source for entertainment and distraction. I find it very difficult to fight the urge to want to buy something bigger, better, and newer, when what I already own is more than enough. I love new toys.

But if I was devoted to the Truth, then maybe I would be more charitable. Greed is such an obvious imperfection in my life. Only the Truth can tear it from my heart and replace it with the same generous heart that Jesus has. If that was to happen, maybe I would enjoy giving instead of taking. Maybe I would open my eyes and stop distracting myself with silly entertainments and see there is a world that has a lot of people with a lot of important needs. In Philippians 1:21 Paul says, "To live is Christ and to die is gain." I believe what he meant was that when you have Jesus, you have the all-satisfying source of your life. Because of that, you stop living for the things of the world. You don't need them and you know they won't fulfill you. Sure, they give you a moment's pleasure, but eventually they wear off and you need to replace them with something new. But not with the Truth, He satisfies a person forever.

If I was totally aligned with the Truth, I could give more of who I am and what I have, because I have already gained everything in Him.