Falling

The nature in Chapel Hill wishes us a happy fall. It's been freezing some mornings, but the trees are pretty, when the sun decides to show his face. And of course you know it's only this cold because we don't have a football game this weekend. We'll have a heat wave come Thursday. But for now, the cold that tends to seep into your bones, only banished by hot coffee and warm blankets makes me want to write.

I'm a sucker for fall, I'll admit it. I fall back in love with the world in this season. I live in the summer, but I love in the fall. That's probably what stirs up what is most likely an unfortunate desire. I want to tell stories again as the leaves change. I want to gather around a camp fire and let the ghosts that hide in my mind run free. I want to sit under a tree and watch her leaves fall as my pencil records the stories in my head. I want to give voice to the wind and life to the characters waiting in the wings. I want to be poetic, sarcastic, creative, effective, amusing, intelligent, true. I have a story that I think should be told, because it's too good to be sacrificed to the whims of my inhibitions. I have a story that I know should be told, that's been told thousands of times and hopefully will be told thousands more. And there's so much else to distract a person!

There's my religious studies class, for example, Intro to the Hebrew Bible. Did I mention that my professor, who has spent the entire semester so far convincing us that every word of the Bible cannot be historically accurate and who references Harry Potter at least once a week, is an ordained Baptist minister? Did I also mention how much hope this gives me? I mean, he said, "I'm a Baptist," not, 'I was a Baptist but now I've seen the light.' I just needed to know that it's possible to sit in light of all of these difficult issues that intense study of the bible brings up and still have a faith. It gives me hope.

Or how about Carolina basketball? Late Night this year was pretty expletively fun, I must say. It's about that time. Time for me to try to hide the fact that I adore Carolina basketball montages and their sappy music and time for me to attempt to once again keep my sports-related temper on the DL (which is going a lot better during football-- I haven't thrown my hat once). Also, I had a friend who Patrick Moody said hey to after Late Night. And I looked up at the stars as I walked up from the Dean Dome with a couple of friends and I gloried in the night and wondered what I had done to be happy again.

There's fun times with Christine and Pam, there's an awesome, awesome Birthday, there's Wesley lunch on Mondays, there's SAI (and then some more SAI and then after that I might have some more SAI), there's House, there's band, there's football, there's the planetarium and laser shows and observing next Saturday night at Jordan Lake you should totally come it'll be tons of fun and hopefully not super super cold, there's Caribou coffee and classes. All these wonderfully positive things in my world are such fantastic distractions from that fleeting urge in my soul to soar invisibly through time and the world I see to the places it will be from.

Oh, but then there's doubt. Then there's the deep questions, the Traveler Unknown that I wrestle with until the break of day, the One whose name I know is Love but I can't seem to make real. I don't understand, I don't see why when I call out through the desert, I only hear my echo. I don't see why when I seek, I don't find and I don't find and I don't find and I can't live my life like this. If I immerse myself in the night sky, will You be there? If I sing all those songs that twist my heart into pieces, that used to mean You were standing right beside me, will You be there? If I force myself back into Your words with a heart open to everything, will You find me here, speak to me, take my breath away? Will You tell me if I'm right? Will You fix me if I'm wrong? Will You love me and let me see it and show me how I can know that You really love every
one
else
too?
Will You show me how to fight for You and for justice and how to be righteous? Will You explain to me why You saved me? Will You come back to me? Will You bring me back to You? Because I've got to know if this is real, or I've got to at least find the faith to be able to live it until I know it's real. God, Lord, I've wanted to shout with joy for such a long time. Do my chains fly off, too?



Life is a tragedy full of joy.
Bernard Malamud