To feel real again

I’ve been in the mood to hear Seven Dust lately (happily, my husband happens to have it lying around) and one song in particular sticks with me, Beautiful. Some of the lyrics are (to the best of my knowledge--don’t sue me if I’ve misquoted)

Feel--when I’m in doubt
I need something beautiful
To fill the space we’ve taken up
I need something to feel real again
Before I go numb

(Are you alive?)

I’m struggling-- I find that all the best and most well-meaning Christian teaching in the world is often so out of context for me that it becomes counterproductive. The thing is, I’ve been a Christian for a long time, and I love God-- He knows how fickle and foolish I can be but that like some strange infestation, I keep coming back... and back... and back. But I don’t think there is a clear idea of what it is supposed to look like or feel like when you are an older Christian in a fallen world with the ordinary drives and problems of humanity. In spite of the popular press, we don’t become more ethereal and ‘spiritual’ as we pass the 15 or 20 year mark. We have a handful of things that we know-- that deep profound knowing. I’ve been though some crap but I know God is good-- I know He has always been faithful. That doesn’t mean that fear and anger don’t overwhelm me, it means that they don’t dismantle my relationship with God. And I have the things that I cling to, like the profound nature of His Grace, which I can deliver in full force to others though I struggle to fully receive it-- and it’s not, as some suppose, that I fail to understand the power of sin (usually said in a tight, ominous voice) but that I’ve seen mercy triumph over judgment so many times that I know where to ‘bank my money’. But the thing is, the older I get the more it seems like God invites us to be comfortable with our physical, intellectual and emotional selves, not in the noble and grandiose way that the teachings make it sound but just plain able to be honest with ourselves.

But it’s hard to filter all the ‘good’ advice and ‘good’ teaching that would lead me awry because I’m not a newbie who’s never thought about God before, who’s never needed to rely on Him. It’s like with marriage, at some point differentiating between my agenda and my husband’s agenda is murky. Some of ‘my’ agendas are specifically for him, things that I think are to his benefit, because our lives and futures and pressing concerns have substantial overlap. In the same way, I can’t always tell anymore what is my agenda and what is God’s-- not that I can’t be oblivious and selfish, but my hopes and destiny have been tied to Christ for a long time. They are now intertwined, telling me to sacrifice my agenda and accept God’s is just confusing. I need help teasing out which is which, and it requires subtlety.

This is all a long ramble to say that I’m struggling with the experience that church life is obscuring God for me even as it is the place where I am most likely to be encouraged to pursue God. I need the encouragement, the different perspectives and experiences but the overall feel is one of creating doubt and numbing the raw beauty of God.

I’ve been here before, I’ll push through. The Lord knows that one of my weak links is my relationship with the church as an organization. And like some strange infestation, I keep coming back... and back...

I would tell you but then I’d have to kill you...

It’s quirky-- I’m usually reserved and yet when it comes to my own life, I struggle to keep secrets. Other people’s secrets aren’t a problem, I’ve been told I’m a good listener (and since I heard them say that, I’ve proven that they’re not totally wrong) so people tell me things that I respond to and store away in some strange corner of my mind. But when it comes to myself, I have to constantly hold my tongue to keep from saying anything-- even now I so want to tell you what’s been going on behind the scenes-- there was a minor health concern that we wanted to keep from my rather perceptive 8-year-old until or unless something needed to be said. (Everything came out clean, I’m in good health, but the whole situation put me in a really foul mood.)

But I have to laugh at myself. Generally, I’d rather hear about my friends than talk about me-- through a combination of shyness and the feeling that I spend a lot of time with my own stuff already. And I can hardly keep myself from sharing a personal secret. Further, since I’m in a foul mood about the whole thing (a free 12 pound weight gain is just one of the bonus features you’ll receive with shipment!) and I still can only sort of share my crappy/mad/sad mood. Again, ironic, because I normally pull in when I’m upset. I’m one of those people who chat and joke at funerals and then sob until I run out of snot at home. And when I’m furious, I have a good stage voice (I can be clearly heard) but there’s no shouting. (The people who’ve seen/experienced my fury don’t feel better because of the controlled volume).

So for those of my friends who complain that I don’t talk about myself enough, just convince me that we have to keep the information a secret, then I’ll be positively bursting to tell you, just make sure I don’t think I have to keep the secret from you.
KP

Sheesh, it’s just a letter

I’ve been working on a query letter and synopsis for Colin’s logs. In theory a query is a simple practical matter-- but I’m an anxious, nervous wreck. I think part of my problem is that I feel pressure to get it right. I mean I look through books on how to write a query, what should be in it and there are pages and pages of admonitions to ‘grab the editor/agent from the first word’ and to ‘sell your story’, and to ‘sell yourself as the person to write it’, making sure that every word is just so. (I think I need a paper sack, I’m about to hyperventilate here.)

But even with the best letter I could possibly write, I’m still afraid. It’s kind of a funny Catch-22 situation-- I’m afraid of taking the next step and I’m afraid of staying here. Then I feel silly about the whole thing-- it’s not like editors and agents have a James Bond eject button that will send me flying through the air if they don’t like it (and, thankfully, it would be too expensive to install). I can step back and be objective. I write fairly well and the book in question is a good read with some humor in it that will please readers in the sci fi/fantasy fan base but it’s not likely to be a Twilight kind of seller either, nor do I need it to be. One day, I’d like to have a real run-away-train like that, but Colin is really an opening salvo in what will hopefully be a long line of publishing credits. I need it to do well enough so I will be welcome to publish other stories. I have another manuscript that will be ready to market by the summer and several partial projects that I’m working on. But I have to get over the hill of marketing.

While I was writing, I kept having people commend my courage. Finishing a novel is a challenge but it wasn’t frightening, it called for sheer persistence more than courage. Critiques and revisions are tough, but good reviewers lead to such improvements that I can get over it. The writing is easy, marketing is where my neurotic insecurities show.

I have a decent core letter (with the help of some friends) and even if I’m a complete nut case, I can still address it to the agent or editor in question. My mother volunteered to actually mail the letters so that I don’t freak out and accidentally drop it in the trash instead of the mail (o.k., I exaggerate a bit). So, sooner than later, I’ll just suck it up and send it out-- wish me luck!