I was thinking as I watched the film how I could sympathize with the idea of being an artist but being unable to create. I sit in front of a monitor all day and by the time I get home, the last thing I look forward to doing is more time 12 inches away from a screen. At that point, I've already done my time, earned my income, and in the process depleted my creative tank. My photography, which I used to feel so passionate about, now often feels like one more chore. Writing is still an outlet, but writing things I invite others into? Published writing? Even a blog with five followers feels like too much of a commitment and I worry that people will debate my comments when really, I just need an outlet and don't want to be the source of another debate.
Over the past few years I've had a million creative solutions to thoughts that I've genuinely wrestled with: Where to live? Where to work? Who to invest my time in? How many hours to spend at the gym? How much money to spend on food? What type of car to buy? And while these later questions may not seem as important as the first, they all conglomerate into the general idea of "am I making a decision that I can feel content with in a year? In five years?" This balance of walking and living in the here and now, but planning and praying for the future. Confusing patience with settling.
Today as I walked into work, I said the Lord's prayer....a good habit I picked up when I worked downtown and walked passed Planned Parenthood and the adjacent Salvation Army. It would start at Planned Parenthood: "Our FATHER, who art in heaven, GLORY be your name. Your kingdom come. Your will be done. Here. Now. On earth as it is in heaven."
And as I continued up the sidewalk past the men at the Salvation Army who would look at me in ways I did not invite, a tenderness would well up in place of anger as I prayed, "Give us today our daily bread, for you provide us our food and shelter and work." And I would wave and smile at the men standing in the doorway and pray for them as well as myself, "lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."
And as I walked onward, past buildings filled with endless cubicles and streets filled with late, impatient drivers, "for thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever and ever. Straight up."
Today the prayer was rushed as I sped toward my desk and I was struck by the temptation part of this prayer. Temptation takes many forms and how quickly I find myself believing I could withstand pressures once I'm in a situation. But to avoid the situation altogether? Lead me not?
It made me think of a recent gathering of five wonderful women sitting around the dinner table and us realizing that none of us had ever been kissed. I was shocked. It's something I've stopped admitting long ago because not having sex at age twenty-seven is weird enough. Never having had a make-out session is a new level of prudishness. As each woman admitted their relational ups-and-downs--including a proposal--my jaw dropped. My disbelief wasn't a feeling of we-are-better-than-thou, but just an amazement that while movies and magazines and governments may say condoms and birth-control are the only options for keeping our hormones in line, here were a group of women claiming that it is possible to be pure in heart and body, while struggling through the relational questions of boyfriends and future husbands. Here was a group that has had ample opportunity to experiment in relationships and decided not to go into temptation. Not to enter into the question of "how far is too far?"
Even writing the above makes me anxious--do I really want people to know this about me? About the people I hang out with? Does it sound judgmental, as if I think people who've made other decisions are less moral than us? It's not. However, this group wasn't laden with all the regrets I so often hear about physical boundaries getting crossed and not being able to take it back.
In the end, I realize why Jesus spent so much time alone with his dad. He was hearing too many other opinions. Too many people misinterpreting his words and trying to trip him up. Too much news. Too many professors. Too many books. Too many friends. Too many enemies. So why do I listen to these other sources and get so confused and bent out of shape? Why do I twist my schedule to invest in things that aren't lasting and don't produce creative results? It's because those opinions tell me this is the way it has to be and in the process, I forget the one whose opinion really matters. The one who understands that my words are just tools to convey my meaning and so often they falter and are misinterpreted. I don't know why I let it bother me since my leader had the same thing happen to him. The trick is getting away long enough to hear the right message from the right person. Because after spending a few hours with my best friend, I'm never wishing I had been with twenty pseudo-friends. After being with someone who loves me, I'm never wishing I was sipping cocktails with a group filled with fake laughter. It's like settling for the preview when you could have the feature film.
