hunger

i always want to read new books. even when someone buys me new books, i have a desire to go to the bookstore and devour even newer ones. i want sit all day in that bookstore and eat up the greatest literature, ancient and contemporary. but therein lies my problem.

i want to devour. not read, not learn, but consume.

i have this hunger and it's to complete something. to completely be done with something. i've never been a finisher. never beaten a video game on my own (thanks cheatcc.com), never mastered an instrument or a genre of music, never written anything as complete as i wanted it to be. to be more specific, i have a desire to completely own and finish something and on a grander scale than one could imagine.

i want to watch every great film ever made, to master every note and nuance of jazz guitar, to read every single masterpiece ever written, to be really amazing in just one thing.

of course, i've thought of putting in the work. and then i change my mind.

the hunger subsides and then it comes back when i feel i can satisfy it.

my hunger is satisfied by my imagination and fantasies. dreams of success, of living a comfortable life with hardly a struggle. i fantasize about writing, but never revising. i fantasize about the critical success, but never what it takes to get there.

i think about how no one's ever gotten full off of thinking about a hamburger or pizza.

i think about how hungry i'm going to be when i wake up from all these delusions and i can't wait to try again. only this time i won't get lost in the dreams, i'll be set in reality.

dear Preacher,

please forgive me, for i did not know what i was doing.

i didn't see you for who you really were.

you are a man of God. a messenger, a shepherd, a counselor.

but i didn't see you as that. rather, i saw you as an entertainer, a comedian, a public speaker.

and when you didn't fulfill my expectations, i was disappointed. i called you a boring preacher with nothing insightful to say, even though i never took the time to carefully listen to your words.

you spoke what God wanted you to every Sunday and every Sunday many failed to listen. many were lost in sleep, daydreams, whispers and i was one of them. lost in my own world, trying to figure out my own problems while you were speaking the answers to me. i tried to pay attention in my later years and found that there was wisdom flowing into my ears. gold into my mind.

i am sorry.

i was one of the many who did not care about you or what you preached. i left to seek another preacher who would preach in a way that i desired. i came back and found that i was deaf before and all i had to do to hear was to listen.

forgive me, Preacher. for what it's worth, i am sorry. and now, i am listening.

the root

when i think about all the art in the world. paintings, sculptures, poetry, fiction, film, music, i'm struck by how many people appreciate these things in a supernatural way. i can't explain what about a painting makes me think. i can't explain why i am moved by certain music. i can't explain my love for film in any myriad of words. but i can tell you the obvious. art is beautiful and it is crafted with passion, and the world is better because of it.

but when i ponder at the root of it all. the purpose in the pencil, the brush, the camera, the guitar, or the chisel, i realize that without a root, it's all meaningless. beauty for beauty's sake means nothing, unless it points to something greater. just as art means something, the beauty in art means something as well. the sights that have taken your breath away, the tears you cried from laughing at a scene, the woman that commands your love, your loyalty. these are all a shadow of what is real, of the spiritual. c.s. lewis said it best, "You don't have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body."

we are creators just like the Creator, who has given us that ability, but unless we use the creativity he has given us for His Kingdom and glory, it is all meaningless, a chasing after the wind.

i don't mean to take away the beauty of art in this world. it's beautiful and will always be beautiful, but it will ultimately be in vain.

let us humbly surrender ourselves to Him, who is able to do much with the little we have.

we have tried our best to shape ourselves. we have tried in order to obtain joy or what we would hope give us joy, but to no avail. let go.

let Him mold you and shape you. it will be hard and painful at times, but we will come out joyful and happier than we could have ever dreamed of. in order to truly create, to truly be an artist, we must surrender the artist within us to Him.

as He takes what we give Him, we will find that now we are truly free to create. and for the right reasons. in order to point to the great glory of Jesus Christ. His Spirit will be Your muse, but much more than that. we will find that He is our God. as we write, paint, shoot, play we find that He is the One who has given us this ability in the first place and that when we created without purpose, we were not creating at all.

by His grace, He becomes the reason for your craft. He becomes the reason why you continue to challenge yourself and excel in your craft. soon His hands become the guide, the root to all of your creation and that brings you joy. no longer will you accept glory for your work because you are not your own. you were bought at a price. your sole desire is to know Him and to make Him known.

this is our end. the Creator creating us to create for Him. He is the artist that has painted many other painters into existence, who would continue the creation of colorful, splotchy, expressive portraits that He so mercifully started in us.