Last week, I sat down at my laptop to write a blog post. I titled a page and began to peck away at the keys before everyone woke up.
The next day, I once again set the laptop on my knees and plugged away at words, this time careening in a different direction.
By the end of that typing session, I had two very different partial-posts and no ideas of what I actually wanted to write.
When writers look for advice, there is one thing we’re always told:
“Write what you know.”
In other words, go out and live life. Write about things you’ve actually done or experienced. You can’t write if you don’t have an existence outside the written word.
But, dear writing community, I have stumbled across another problem.
I have discovered that it is possible to live so much that you run clean out of words.
Thoughts worthy of blog posts can come in fits and starts, ordinarily. Lately, though, I have been so immersed in life that when I sit down to think of a good post topic, I lean my head back on my headboard and go blank. Ideas pop up and I quickly squelch them.
I wonder if there is such a thing as too much writing material.
Just now, I live in a new world everyday. I wake up to complications and emotions that I’m just beginning to learn how to ride out.
Learning how to be an adult, in a house of six adults. Trying to give daily, intensive love to eight other people. Discovering how my family members and I handle stress. Finding out just how unreliable feelings are. Caring for my big, crazy family, sometimes long-distance. Looking for new things to learn. Opening my heart to bigger hurts and bigger loves. Juggling a schedule that isn’t even funny. Hoping to pull off a good job for my supervisor. Trying to find out where social media fits in. Learning that my life balance is something I have to discover by trial and error…lots of error. Squeezing in a book or a podcast in there somewhere. Singing, a lot.
Sometimes life lessons crystallize in slow motion, over a period of days or weeks. These days, so many lessons pour over my head that I’m slow to catch them, much less be able to put them into words.
But, even here there is a lesson.
When life crowds out your words, go back to the basics.
Jesus. Run back to Jesus.
Life can get too confusing. It gets crowded–full of mess and hurt and blessings and busyness. Whether the days whiz by or crawl, they often don’t seem to get any lighter. Breathing can be hard, and living can be weighty. Life is hard to condense into a neat package and tie up in a bow.
But maybe, just maybe, it’s not supposed to be nice and neat.
I think life is meant to be a paradox. Everything may be wildly incoherent and out of my control…but all wrapped up in the hand of God.
“I deliberately kept it plain and simple: first Jesus and who he is; then Jesus and what he did—Jesus crucified.”
– paraphrase of 1 Corinthians 2:2, from the Message –
When the apostle Paul went to Corinth, he didn’t try to help people make spiritual sense of their lives with anything other than the Gospel. Jesus was the totality of His message.
You see, the Gospel merges the broken, jagged puzzle pieces of our lives into a coherent whole.
Jesus–the crucified and resurrected Redeemer–truly redeems. He buys back the lives, the days, the purposes of every detail of existence. Because of Jesus, the picture of our lives, though incomplete from our perspective, starts to make sense.
Life doesn’t work without Jesus.
In the book of Acts, Paul quotes the Greek philosopher Epimenides, using Greek poetry to describe the centrality of Christ:
“For in Him we live and move and exist….” – Acts 17:28
The book of Hebrews tells us that Jesus, “[by] his own mighty word…holds the universe together” (Hebrews 1:3, CEV).
This truth is the reason why, when I am drained of words, I still have one word:
I don’t have to make sense of my crazy, whirlwind world. Taking one day at a time, I just have to love the next person in front of me, “do the next right thing,” and offer up each moment as something I’m doing to make my Savior glad.
The Gospel says that Jesus is enough.
When I run out of understanding…
Out of energy,
Out of intuition,
Out of words…
He is still there.
In Him, I am not a chaotic mess. In Him, I am centered.
In Him, I am home.