2 pm

Today is quiet at the office and I feel the insignificance irritating me again, like that old wool turtleneck sweater that doesn't always itch, but when it does, it's a beast and you can't really make it go away, it's always just kind of right there, reminding you of itself. Best thing you can do is find something to do and ignore it, perhaps it will just leave you well enough alone after awhile. I write but I don't much feel like it, because I don't feel (like it's) worth it. I've just begun the first page of Anne Lamott's Traveling Mercies and I do want to read it, but every time I take a moment to appreciate someone else's art these days I feel a greater desire to express myself, more so than I am interested in someone else's expression. Instead of watching the game and cheering them on I just get put out because I'm not playing. So here I am, I play.

But I don't know what to write. I feel like everything that happens lately is intensely ordinary - not extraordinary - and so very uninteresting and unimportant. I don't believe I've had any existential crises lately, although perhaps this malaise is one in itself. I suppose I could make it into one, but is it really worth it? I wish I had something to be excited and passionate about, but here I am, just sort of hanging out. Perhaps once Jeff [my boss who was out of town the first 2 months of my job] gets back I will be mentally occupied enough to enjoy the mental breaks that come outside of work. It would be really great if I could feel like there was something for me to do to worship God with this time but it's very tricky when all there is is quietness and an absolute black hole of time and energy where good healthy work ought to be. Geez, I'm depressing myself. Surely I can be more lighthearted than this. I am the Beloved, after all.

3 pm

What do you write about when your life has some comedy, very little tragedy, and not much by way of dramatic plotline? I have no story of how I became the great administrative assistant I am today, clawing my way through the lower classes to achieve a better socioeconomic status. I am no suffering saint, no martyr, although I can elaborate and make a mediocre story into a good one if I'm confident at a party and the crowd has got me going. I wish I was at least tragically Irish or some other good ethnicity. Dutch-Viking-German-English children who aren't even totally sure of that don't have much to offer as far as unique cultural interest goes. Is it special that I think, deep down, I might actually be Italian or somehow Latin?

...

Sometimes I think I like everything about Christianity except God.

Was Thomas the only one who doubted or the only one who was honest about his doubts and, therefore, the only one who got an answer to them?

Heather,
Thanks for sharing! One of my professors once told me that, “the best writing, regardless of genre, comes out two things: honesty and the love of words”. I shelved his words in my eager-little-self-deprecating brain, pulling them out from time to time…thinking
“uh, it’s honesty I’m lacking today, so, I better not write till I can be more honest,” or “ah, a bit lacking in the loving-words department today. I think I’ll hold off till I know the 'right' words instead of making them up all the time.”

However, one day, I was reading John 1:1 “The Word was God…” and I was became overcome with the urge to write! I thought, "hum, my professor was on to something…The best writing DOES come from loving words, well, at least loving the Word." Since then, writing has seemed so much more exciting to me…a must do kinda thing! Maybe cause I realized how serious God takes language, words, communicating…but…I’m not sure.

P.S. I really enjoyed the scratchy sweater analogy!
P.S.S. I HEART Anne Lamott!

Heifer, dahling:

1. WHY did I not know you had a blog.
2. I love you.
3. And I am glad glad you wrote this.
4. Also I have just begun a love affair with Anne Lamott's writing.
5. I miss you like you miss the spot that itches when that wool sweater is itching you so much all over that you can't figure out where to scratch.
6. I bet you're right about Thomas. Some of the people I know with the best faith are the ones that tell God they're doubting, instead of trying to hide it.
7. Yeah, I know what it's like to be, um, female, middle-class, and generically white.
8. Come see me on my blog.
9. I love you.