So I can totally feel God moving in my life now. I know that I am taking a big step forward and am heading towards leading a life that is for Him.
WOOO!
It feels so much better. Work has issues, but that will be fixed. Life is full of trials, but with God I can get through all things!
One of the stories I have is reflecting that. So votes have been coming in, and we are going to have a final decision soon. I need to get out there and start advertising myself as a writer. How do I do this? I have no clue.
There was a Writer's Workshop that is scheduled for the last weekend in June, however, I don't think it has anything to offer. One class about novels, but the people you can pitch to aren't interested in what I have to offer. So I think, maybe, no.
I will let what few people this reaches know the outcome of the voting soon.
Thanks to all who have been helping! All my love!
21 May, 2014
02 May, 2014
I gotta take out the trash...
No. Really. I do.
So here I am. Come to rant about writing amongst other things. Ugh. I feel so sluggish and I don't just mean physically. I mean mentally and spiritually.
Tuesday night, this past, was awesome. I wrote. I wrote like hell. I wrote like crazy. I wrote some crazy. Then...nothing. Well not nothing...I had a smidgen of inspiration on Wednesday, but whatevs. I don't think it went very far.
I feel like there are so many things that are going on right now in a time when absolutely nothing is going on right now. A recent conversation with a coworker got me thinking again on something that has plagued me for a long time. What the hell am I doing in life? What is my purpose? Life as we know it, has no purpose. Sounds morbid? Not when you think about it. What is purpose, after all, but the reason for which something is done or for which something exists. This is why I cannot fathom not believing in God (or any God.) If there is nothing greater than ourselves...if we were not created by some higher power, then consciousness, not life, serves absolutely no purpose and loses all meaning. If we die, our consciousness ceases to be and we do not move on to some other level of consciousness, be it Heaven, Hell, Gehenna, or another life, then what was the point? To be quite frank, I find that a lot scarier than I do the concept of Hell.
So what is our purpose? Our purpose, as my faith tells me, is to serve God. God is my purpose and therefore his son, Christ. Now I feel better. Now I feel like a new energy lifts me up.
With that cleared up, what then do I do with my time here? Crap. Crapola. This sucks. Whatever I do, should be to glorify God. So I make choices. Do I make the wrong choices? No. There aren't really "wrong" choices. It doesn't work that way. Instead, it goes something like this: there are the choices that lead us to Him, or from Him...and some choices that put us right back where we were. :) If I love Archaeology, is that going to lead me away from God? No. At least, it doesn't have to. If I choose to do mission trips and devote my life to such matters, does that put me closer to God? Not at all.
So how, then, do I know what to do with my life? Just make up your mind, dumbass. Just make up your mind and do something. God is with you always, so no matter what choice you make he's going with you. What if you chose to study evolution? That would certainly lead you away from God. It doesn't have to. For crying out loud, I studied evolution plenty...I tried to be Wiccan...I tried Buddhism...I tried it all...and somewhere along the line I realized that my heart was not filled by any of that and never truly doubted that God existed. ((Interesting note, my coworker thinks that is due to the fact that I grew up in a Christian home but I beg to differ.))
Okay. Now that I have cleared that up, I realize I can make any choice I want. Okay. Porn star it is.
Hahaha...no.
I can make any choice, but I have to hold myself (and nobody else) accountable for the results. I chose to leave archaeology to get a full time job and that has put me through all sorts of hell. My husband is finishing school and working, so one of us has to be steady. So now, I work at Pizza Hut. Screw me. Screw my life.
Okay...admittedly, it isn't that bad of a job, but it is just that: a job. Archaeology was a career. I loved it. I loved doing it. I don't love my job now. I tolerate it. To that end, I also love writing...but as I have noted before, I cannot make a living out of it. If I am hardwired to write and I feel as though this is something I need to be doing with my life, why do I get blocks? Is it possible that the spiritual war that takes place around us at all times affects my writing?
I thought long and hard on this, the other night. I thought long and hard about what could possibly be hindering my writing. I think I know where a lot of my uncertainties, anxieties, and misconceptions about my own ability lie. From someone who, a long time ago, took it upon themselves to completely mess with my head and spin me around so fast that I am still feeling the effects to this day. That, however, is a story for another day.
So here I am. Come to rant about writing amongst other things. Ugh. I feel so sluggish and I don't just mean physically. I mean mentally and spiritually.
Tuesday night, this past, was awesome. I wrote. I wrote like hell. I wrote like crazy. I wrote some crazy. Then...nothing. Well not nothing...I had a smidgen of inspiration on Wednesday, but whatevs. I don't think it went very far.
I feel like there are so many things that are going on right now in a time when absolutely nothing is going on right now. A recent conversation with a coworker got me thinking again on something that has plagued me for a long time. What the hell am I doing in life? What is my purpose? Life as we know it, has no purpose. Sounds morbid? Not when you think about it. What is purpose, after all, but the reason for which something is done or for which something exists. This is why I cannot fathom not believing in God (or any God.) If there is nothing greater than ourselves...if we were not created by some higher power, then consciousness, not life, serves absolutely no purpose and loses all meaning. If we die, our consciousness ceases to be and we do not move on to some other level of consciousness, be it Heaven, Hell, Gehenna, or another life, then what was the point? To be quite frank, I find that a lot scarier than I do the concept of Hell.
So what is our purpose? Our purpose, as my faith tells me, is to serve God. God is my purpose and therefore his son, Christ. Now I feel better. Now I feel like a new energy lifts me up.
With that cleared up, what then do I do with my time here? Crap. Crapola. This sucks. Whatever I do, should be to glorify God. So I make choices. Do I make the wrong choices? No. There aren't really "wrong" choices. It doesn't work that way. Instead, it goes something like this: there are the choices that lead us to Him, or from Him...and some choices that put us right back where we were. :) If I love Archaeology, is that going to lead me away from God? No. At least, it doesn't have to. If I choose to do mission trips and devote my life to such matters, does that put me closer to God? Not at all.
So how, then, do I know what to do with my life? Just make up your mind, dumbass. Just make up your mind and do something. God is with you always, so no matter what choice you make he's going with you. What if you chose to study evolution? That would certainly lead you away from God. It doesn't have to. For crying out loud, I studied evolution plenty...I tried to be Wiccan...I tried Buddhism...I tried it all...and somewhere along the line I realized that my heart was not filled by any of that and never truly doubted that God existed. ((Interesting note, my coworker thinks that is due to the fact that I grew up in a Christian home but I beg to differ.))
Okay. Now that I have cleared that up, I realize I can make any choice I want. Okay. Porn star it is.
Hahaha...no.
I can make any choice, but I have to hold myself (and nobody else) accountable for the results. I chose to leave archaeology to get a full time job and that has put me through all sorts of hell. My husband is finishing school and working, so one of us has to be steady. So now, I work at Pizza Hut. Screw me. Screw my life.
Okay...admittedly, it isn't that bad of a job, but it is just that: a job. Archaeology was a career. I loved it. I loved doing it. I don't love my job now. I tolerate it. To that end, I also love writing...but as I have noted before, I cannot make a living out of it. If I am hardwired to write and I feel as though this is something I need to be doing with my life, why do I get blocks? Is it possible that the spiritual war that takes place around us at all times affects my writing?
I thought long and hard on this, the other night. I thought long and hard about what could possibly be hindering my writing. I think I know where a lot of my uncertainties, anxieties, and misconceptions about my own ability lie. From someone who, a long time ago, took it upon themselves to completely mess with my head and spin me around so fast that I am still feeling the effects to this day. That, however, is a story for another day.
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