Of passion, beauty, and ideals…

This last Sunday a young girl in our church, I would say about 19 or so, came up to me, with her parents and started chatting with me. They are new to our church, and I would almost say new to church, period. We were making small talk, when I asked her what she was holding.  I could see that it was a stack of pages and that on the front of the page, towards the middle, it said “BY: (Her full name)”

She told me it was a book of poetry and writing that she had done.  I asked her if I could look at it, and she hesitantly said yes, then told me I could keep it for the week,and could return it next week.  I accepted this offer, and this morning, made a point to read her writing.

I should probably mention that this girl openly struggles with some difficult learning disabilities.  It was one of the first things that I found out about her when I met her family in November, so I really didn’t know what to expect in the pages I was about to read this morning.

I took off the paper clip and began turning the pages, and for the next half hour was immersed, not so much in the technical excellence of the writing, though she clearly has some talent and time poured into her work.  But I was immersed in her writing because of the passion and the themes it projected.  Here was a girl who I know struggles with some serious issues, and never wrote one word about how unfair her life was, or why God would create her with so many problems, though It would have been perfectly understandable for me to read about this in pages written from her own words.

But her work was not going to be stifled by talk of pessimism and complaint.  She wrote of beauty and creation and our need to change ourselves, if the world was ever going to change.  She wrote of peace and love and of God, who expects certain things from us, like for us not to hate each other.  And the entire time, I sat at my desk in awe that what I expected to fill these pages was not there, and what I did not expect conveniently arrived in the vehicles of these poems and stories so that I could be inspired to keep doing what it is that I do.

I have a similar work of writing from Chuck, an old student of mine from Atlanta, Georgia.  Chuck was amazingly talented and did a project of writing and poetry in one of my classes.  He had the project bound, and gave me a copy, which I still have today, 11 years later.  He wrote of many of the same themes and challenges of the girl I read this morning.

I have the privilege of talking to Chuck every once in a while to this day, and even had breakfast with him a few months ago while attending a conference in Atlanta.  I wondered, though I never asked him, if he felt time had jaded him or made him better from the ideals he wrote about in his youth.

I also wonder this about me.  I had a book too.  A book and journal where I wrote my ideals and passions and ways that the world needs to change.  And when I think about Chuck and when I read this guy and this guys writing and when I read poems and stories like the ones I did this morning, I wonder, “Have my passions been limited to a pop song with great lyrics?”

Or am I doing something about it, starting with myself?

This post is for Watercooler Wednesday with Randy Elrod.

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