Writing

My friend Scott is beginning on his second novel today. He writes every year as part of nanowrimo. This year will be a similar thing for me, however, mine will be more of an role-playing game setting than a novel. I’ve written about it before, but basically, I learn a lot about God through world-building and I believe a lot of good principles can be taught in a role-playing situation. I have a novel or sixteen in my cranium, but until the children are older, I will not have the time to work on them the way I want to work on them. I’m about two years away from that point.

Structure

Right now, we are just acclimating them to a 8pm bedtime. With all the other stuff going on for the past three years, we’ve been lucky to have 10 days in a row be roughly the same. Now that many of those issues have passed, we can be more proactive in providing more structure in their lives. As I said, one of those measures is a consistent, early bedtime. (The end of daylight savings time will help a lot tonight.) Other measures include a more consistent bedtime for Mama Bear and Papa Bear, having more people over to our house (as opposed to going to their houses), devotional night not being moved around to accommodate medical/church/crisis issues, and the like. The congregation I attend is working through the material called Heart Work right now. It is a wonderful resource thus far.

Cause

Thanks to everyone that commented or email me. I appreciate encouragement in any form, really. Before I share more, though, let me say that the moratorium on advice is over. The main purpose of it was that so I could figure out what is really bothering me. Why do I feel like I cannot hear God’s voice? Until I could figure out why, I really couldn’t take input because it would further cloud the issue. Now that I have a better idea, fire away.

The main issue is this: Where does God want me to be?

I’ve spent many years seeking the will of God. I’ve asked “Where are you?” since I was a teenager at least. My father remembers me talking out loud to God when I was a child. (If that story is true, I would love to be able to see again the angels talking with me!) As far as I can remember, I’ve always wanted to know God and be known by Him. I credit that to my wonderful mom and dad.

Seminal moments in my brief life thus far have put me in a place where I have said, “Aha! God wants me to be *here* and not *there*!” It’s not so much been with a particular group of people (although sometimes it has) as much as a geographic location.

I wanted to leave my hometown from about age 14 onwards, so I thought my opportunity was two years at the School of Science and Math. I imagined living somewhere else for my junior and senior years, meeting ubersmart math geeks, and generally teaching mathematical theory for the rest of my life. I was certain that this school was where I should be.

The year I applied, seven qualified to attend, but by state law only two from each county can go. I was number 4. One of the two chosen to go dropped out after a few months. I was devastated. You see, there is no recount and no reapplication. (No. 3 didn’t want to go either.) You have only one shot and I missed it. I consoled myself that I had two really good friends and I wouldn’t lose them by moving away just yet.

The next goal was a four-year stay at UNC-Chapel Hill. From there, I imagined my life taking me all over the country and the world. I imagined my math buddies and I exploring theory and working through proving Fermat’s last theorem. This dream would have been helped more by hard work my junior and senior years, but by then I was just plain lazy. I got an F in Physics because of a general de-motivation to be a part of class. All I had to do was the homework just to get a B, but I hated the class, so I refused to do the homework.

That one “F” took away my instant ride to UNC and any hope of a scholarship. I say this knowing full well that my laziness and awful work ethic were leading me to this place for years previous to my senior year. It wasn’t until this “F” though that all of this was revealed. At the time, I had a hard time believing that this could be true – after all, I placed into UNC in the eighth grade by SAT score alone. (I also qualified for Harvard’s waiting list. I sent my scored to both places.) My destiny was UNC-CH…

And then I was put on their waiting list. The wait extended into deadline for all the other colleges I applied to. (Harvard said ‘no’ by the way.) First, I said no to East Carolina. It was too close to hope and a last resort anyway. Next was Virginia Tech because I was out of state. Third was NC State by deafult, which was my next to last resort. I never really said ‘no’, I just let the deadline pass. Fourth, and final, was Wake Forest. I really wanted to go to Wake Forest at that point. My family told me not to use money as a criteria to say ‘no’. But I said ‘no’ anyway. I never told them until now it was because of the cost of tuition.

Classes were about to start and I was still waiting. My father arranged to have me talk to the Dean of Graduate Admissions in order to get his endorsement. I also talked to a state senator and a few other folks. I was really beginning to worry. So a couple days before orientation, we traveled to Raleigh to see if begging would help.

It did and the rest is history.

I kept telling myself that at least I was in college somewhere. Still, I thought I was going to be a few miles down the road. I guess it was not meant to be.

Not long after being there, I met the ICoC folks. For the better part of two years I was on and off with them. I attended everything, but wouldn’t study. When I finally did study the Bible, I remember spending a lot of nights in Pullen Park at night saying, “God, is *this* where you want me?”

I hadn’t really talked to God in a long time at that point. I figured that this was His way of telling me that I was an arrogant jerk and that I needed to live for something other than myself. Since these people had been so patient and had showed me the Bible in a way I had never seen, I was certain that this was where God wanted me to be.

The rest of that is history as well. I look back at that time and I want to reverse that decision almost every day of my life. It doesn’t help to think about how that decision saved my life (literally) and got me focused on graduating and set me on the path I’m on now. Knowing that my life would be a lot worse, assuming I was even alive, is no comfort because of the evil I did in God’s name because of that decision.

I was so certain that I was doing God’s will. For a brief time, I felt it so strongly. I prayed, I fasted, I searched the Scriptures, I asked others inside and outside the church. Ultimately, I did what I wanted to do because I ignored all the advice of those outside the church. I may never know if my time in the ICoC was something God used despite choosing to join or if God actively wanted me to join knowing what would happen to me later in life. Yes, I understand that there are more choices than these two. Currently, I think that maybe He wanted me to join, but that he didn’t want me to do all the things I did. Yet, I was doing what was expected from each person in a broad sense. I obeyed the leaders, I brought people to services, I studied the Bible with hundreds (if not 1000) people, I read and prayed (though not everyday), I tithed, etc. Outside of the extraordinary things I was asked to do that were clearly not biblical (spying, directing the lives of others, manipulating people, etc.) I was teaching and living false doctrine.

How could God direct me to be a part of a group that harmed hundreds of thousands of people worldwide? I thought that evil existed because of his allowance for free will, not at his direction.

At times in my ICoC life, I struggled over leaving because my head said I should go, but my heart was afraid of being alone. I would grouse about various issues (dating rules, etc.) but ultimately could not see any life for me outside of *the church*.

Fast forward a few years to moving out here. Everyone advised me to stay. I prayed about it and fasted about it, sure. I even called my buddy Kurt at the drive-thru of Taco Bell because I felt like I had received my answer to come here. Although I denied it at the time, I came out here because I just wanted to leave. Just like other decisions in my life, I ended up doing what I wanted to do anyway.

Sure I ended up avoiding the implosion of my old church. Still, I had to track down Sam and talk to him anyway. I still flew home twice to work out any relationship and repair harm where I could. I made my best efforts before God and man to make amends. I didn’t see the day-to-day breaking down of the church, but I sure felt the effects of it. It is not comforting to think that I avoided losing my religion four years ago because I feel like I am losing it now. I wouldn’t have had the great life I have now without coming here, I believe. But I am back to the same question of God’s direct will or God’s allowed will.

So, when I face a major crossroads, I don’t know what God is trying to tell me. Any other major decision in my life, I’ve ended up doing what I wanted despite the counsel of others. Why ask for advice or seek the Word of the Lord in the first place? I think I hear him, but I hear my own voice instead. God seems to work things out, but am I ever going to hear him? Am I really supposed to make decision myself and pray for His divine providence to work things out? That seems to put the cart before the horse.

Here I am at another major crossroads.

On second thought, I need to write out the other section better. The major crossroads is bigger than where to worship, it is what does God want me to do now?

All ideas welcome.