I learn from myself a lot. I go back and read a journal entry, a paper, or a blogpost that I’ve written in the past, and I teach myself things I knew at one moment in time, but have since forgotten. I’ve realized that growing up and seeking Truth sometimes means leaving my childish ways behind, like Paul says, but it also sometimes means remembering how I was as a child, for one must become like a child to enter the kingdom of heaven.
I feel like there’s a writer’s block on my life. My journal pages simply fill with life experience cataloging, my blog sits stagnant, and I haven’t poured my passions of the moment out into a poem for a long time. Sometimes I have inspiration, but then I’ll simply sit there, starting at the blank page or white screen, frustrated words won’t come. Words, the things I have trusted in to help me in expression, in understanding, in sharing. Maybe I trust them too much?
So, in my lack of not knowing what to write, I write about not knowing what to write. J I simply know that I am on a journey of discovery, and lately I haven’t been intentionally pursing that discovery. While I don’t think we should be in constant movement, since God says he is in the whispers and the quiet places, I do know that I have a responsibility and a choice to exercise my freedom and my God-given opportunity to seek after Him. I must find that balance.
We are all in tension, trying to understand the paradoxes. I must give up my childish ways, and yet it is those who are like children who enter the kingdom. I must actively pursue, and yet wait for God in the stillness. I can only write about not writing. I am only passionate about not being passionate, and the paradoxes surround me. Silly paradoxes.
