Merry-age

Believe it or not, I've already written at least three blog posts so far today. That's right. They're just in my head. In some secret place where they go immediately after I finish them. They get locked in and I have yet to figure out 1. where they are and 2. how to get them out. I should check out of those Marauder's maps from Harry Potter. That would be helpful.

A lot of people in my life are already married or about to get married. And this. Is. Awesome. Seriously. Not even a jaded single speaking sarcastically here. I absolutely love it. My pastor gave a really difficult sermon on Sunday and it did have to do with his marriage and I thought about all my beautiful friends who are married and how special they are and how special their marriage is to me. The relationships you have with other people affect each other. They really do. And I realized during Sunday's sermon that I don't need to be married, at least not right now, because all of my friend's marriages, they're like children to me. That sounds weird I realize. But what I mean is ... I don't know. I care deeply about my friends and their relationships with their spouses, or spouses to be. Especially the marriages that I was witness to their beginning (as in, I went to their wedding.) I frequently feel those lightweight burdens on my heart for my friends and their marriages specifically.

So know, my married friends, that I treasure your friendship and your marriage, your vows to each other. I take them seriously, especially the ones where I served as witness to the committing itself. So I am here for you, and I am on both your sides.

And my single friends, I pray for your spouses frequently. Your future relationships are dear to me and I am excited to see them unveiled.

But now that I have typed this out, I feel it's weird. I know it's not weird, or maybe it is, but in an endearing way. But whatever. I'm weird. No worries. I'm fully aware of this.

Time to go play some Verdi's Requiem. Intense.

What do I want?

I am cold all the time.

I've had a bit of a rough time with music lately. I have had a string of bad auditions and frustrating musical experiences. Taken individually they're not s bad, but when combined, one on the heels of the next, they are borderline overwhelming.

As I've said before, my church has been doing a sermon series about story and I've also been reading Donald Miller's new book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years which talks also about story. So according to the book, a story is a character who wants something and overcomes conflict to get it.

Simple. Right?

So let's apply this to my life.

Character: me

Wants something: ???

Stop. See the problem? I'm not sure anymore what it is that I want. Conflict I seem to have plenty of, but what I'm overcoming said conflict for, I have no idea.

Is it music? Because I've been awfully frustrated with it lately. And not so much with it, itself, but with what it is asking of me. I'm not totally convinced that the payoff is worth the effort. So what else could I want? Starbucks? Nice, but maybe not the story I'm looking for. Money? Nice, but maybe not a good story. Comfort? Nice again, but again, not a good story.

So what do I want???

I have no idea.

Learning

I am sitting in a new local coffee shop in my hometown’s downtown. I just overheard some kids talking about skiing and snowboarding and what their plans are for an upcoming trip, etc. etc. I heard one in particular say “learning to ski sucks.” He was pointing out the difference between actually skiing and learning to ski. One is fun, the other is painful. It got me thinking about learning in general. Now. I love to learn. I am a big fan of it. But. What thing is actually fun to learn? Not music. Music is maybe fun to learn about, but to actually learn to make music is a pain. It is frustrating and exhausting and it sounds horrible. Have you ever heard a kid just learning to play violin? It screeches to high heavens. My grandmother will say that’s the only thing she’s ever tried to discourage her grandchildren to do. Or the only time she’s ever been mean to her grandchildren, or something like that. Anyway. Listening to small people learning to play the violin brings out the worst in people. Learning to drive. All the whiplash from the stopping and the going and the heavy braking and … Learning to speak. Frustrating to the max. Maybe learning a language is fun. Help me with this list. What is fun for the actual learning process?

Do we like to learn? Really? Why? Why not? Is it a personal thing? Do some people like to learn, while others don’t? Do some people actually enjoying rolling down the hill over and over again? Do they like it on its own merits or is it because they like the idea of what it represents? What it will hopefully eventually produce? Rolling down the hill over and over again will eventually decrease to staying upright down the hill over and over again.

We endure pain and frustration for the end result. It has a purpose. We endure it more easily when we know what the purpose is, when we can see the end goal.