Soliloquy

I’m not a poet, but I wish I were. Over the years I’ve mainly stuck to essay-style prose, because, frankly, it’s what I’m good at. It’s also easier. And safer. Most people judge an essay or article primarily by its content. As long as you have something worthwhile to say, you won’t necessarily fall flat on your face just because you’re not Wordsworth. Not that an essay shouldn’t be artful or beautiful, because I believe it should. It’s just that most people don’t judge that sort of writing as harshly.

Poetry is different. By definition, it draws attention to the words themselves — which words the poet uses, how they sound, how they play off one another. A poem has not only content, but form. It has to both mean and be. In short, you can say something great, but if your writing sucks, everyone knows. And you get laughed at. I don’t like being laughed at, so I have stayed away from poetry.

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Author

I hate big decisions. I hate transitions. I hate feeling unsure. Some people are antsy, you know? They don’t like staying in one place too long. Not me. I would much rather be settled, steady, and sure. I want to know what’s ahead.

Unfortunately, that has simply not been how my life has worked thus far. Every time I think I’m settled on something, God has a way of messing up my plans. If my adult life has been marked by anything, it’s transition. More often than not, I have been absolutely clueless about my next step. I’m learning, though, that God works in unique ways during those transition times.

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Allusion

I’m not sure I’ve ever been quite so affected by a book as I was by Sheldon Vanauken’s A Severe Mercy. I’m saying a lot here, because my thinking has been shaped by some incredible writers. But, rarely has a book engaged my mind and my heart so deeply at once. I was quite literally speechless when I finished.

The story is straightforward enough – it’s basically a memoir of of the author’s life with his wife, Davy. He shares their love story, their journey to faith, and his own process of grief after Davy’s early death (I’m not giving anything away that’s not on the back cover). He also recounts his friendship with C.S. Lewis, and the book includes much of their correspondence. The events of the story are intriguing, to be sure – Sheldon and Davy lead a life of enviable adventure. But what I found so gripping was the depth of feeling and insight with which Vanauken treats his experience.

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Plot

Last week, I faced one of my greatest fears. Don’t laugh at me when I say all I did was get a cavity filled. It’s not the dental work itself that scares me — three years of braces got me pretty used to someone poking around in my mouth. The trouble is the Novocain. I’m terribly afraid of needles. I know lots of people don’t like shots, but that’s not quite what I’m talking about.

I’ve always been queasy about shots, and I remember a fair bit of anxiety at the doctor’s office when I was a kid. But the real trouble started when I had two traumatic needle experiences my first year of college. Since then, the very thought of a needle has given me cold sweats. I think I may actually be clinically phobic, though I haven’t checked with anyone on that. Talking about shots causes my heart to race. Sometimes I get light-headed. It’s ridiculous.

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Author

The best part of the story I’m living is that I am not writing it. Author posts will be about the One who is. For this first one, I decided to write about a theme in Scripture that’s been wrecking me lately.

For your Maker is your husband, the LORD of hosts is his name; and the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer, the God of the whole earth he is called. (Isaiah 54:5 ESV)

This is one of those verses that I find just too good to be true. My whole life I’ve been hearing that Jesus wants a personal relationship with me, but sometimes, I confess, I forget just what that means. My head has a much easier time getting around a distant God — I’ve sinned, Jesus died to forgive me, and now I stand before him innocent. Amazing. That’s enough, right? I mean, I’d be embarrassed to ask for anything more.

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An Aside

It has come to my attention that my introductory post may have led readers to expect more about cereal than I have so far delivered. This is easily remedied, since I am more than happy to blog about the source of so much happiness. I love cereal.

I love it a lot, actually. Probably more than any person should. I eat a bowl almost every night before bed, and it’s obviously standard breakfast fare … which means it’s not uncommon for me to have cereal twice in one day. This has been going on since I was little, which I guess adds up to about a jillion bowls of cereal over the course of 25 years.

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Allusion

No story is complete without references to other works of art, right? Allusion happens to be one of my favorite literary elements, because I love to see connections. I also love to feel smart, and catching an obscure allusion to Greek poetry or whatever reassures me that I am well-read. But that’s beside the point.

In Allusion posts, I’ll be writing about different works of art, primarily literature, that I love. Having an English degree means I’ve written about literature a lot, but I’ve always had to use academic voice and keep “critical distance.” That’s always been hard for me, because I really can’t distance myself from what I’m reading. I’m excited here to just write of what I love. I thought long and hard about what to do for this first one, and I thought, what the hay, let’s start it off with a bang. So, my friends, I give you T.S. Eliot’s Four Quartets, a notoriously difficult but unspeakably beautiful series of poems.

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Character

Usually, life change happens through relationship. I think God designed it that way. That’s why character is by far the most important element of any story.

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