My Passion

What is it about writing that I love so much? This is a question I’m still trying to answer. I do not think (in fact I know) that there is not just one simple explanation. Writing comes easy for me. I always thought that it was easy for everyone, but the more I tune in and listen to what others are saying, I hear so many complaints about this art form. About how horrible writing is, how hard it is to express what you are trying to say, how frustrated people get with it. That is when I discovered that I was different than others. When I was a kid I kept a journal. Maybe that doesn’t sound that strange, but I really loved to do it. Once in 8^th grade I discovered that I really enjoyed writing, but never thought of it as an art form, just as an easy class in school. I really think that that feeling had a lot to do with where I was going to church. Crazy as it sounds, its true. Church has always been a huge part of my life. Where I was then, North Asheville Baptist, was a good place, in my mind. I looked forward to Sundays and Wednesdays. I had lots of friends. All was well in the world. Art was never something they majored on, but it was, at least how I saw it, very defined. If you could draw, you were an artist. If you could paint, you were an artist. If you could play an instrument, you were a musician. If you created on the computer, you were a geek. All of these were valuable traits. In my last few years there, we had a new youth pastor named Tim. He replaced our old pastor, James. James was an amazing guy who totally turned me on to devotions, quite times, and growing in God. Tim, on the other hand, vexed me from the very beginning. It was not just the fact that he took James place that bothered me. I was in high school when he came into my world. I have always been very independent and had my opinions on things. I am not one of those “don’t bother me with the facts” kinds of people, but I’m not easily swayed either. Tim presented ideas that I didn’t really agree with. We “didn’t see eye to eye” on a lot of things. He took the joy out of youth group, and also the growth. But he did focus a lot on our (the youths) individual talents. If you were an artist as defined above, you were a valuable addition to the youth group. If you did not fall into any of those categories, you were only good for bringing new people into youth. This offended me very much. Yes, I did fall into the category of “geek,” and I offered to help with the website and stuff, but I was handed a pink slip before I even began for someone better had been found. Eh, fine by me. In another attempt to be helpful, I made this offer: “Hey Tim! Um, you were talking tonight about using our talents for the Lord and for this youth ministry, and um, I’m sort of a writer and would love to do some writing for youth, be it for the website or flyers or whatever!” He just kind of looked at me and said, “A writer? Yeah, um, go talk to Steve. Wait, you can’t draw, can you?” “Um, no, sorry.” “Yeah, uh huh… thanks.” Then moved on. Whoa! Dude! That day is when I stopped writing. That may sound very silly, but the fact is, the person who was supposed to care about us teens the most very clearly, by the tone of his voice, the look on his face and the words that he spoke, said that my “gift” is useless. I went home and tried to learn to draw. HAH! That was a laugh. I’m just not someone who can draw. I paint with words, but that obviously was not valuable. So, as I said, I quit. I did not write, except for the occasional journal entry, for nearly a year and a half. I did not pursue it or see it as valuable. I never liked Tim. He crushed me without a second thought. Some may say that it was not intentional, but such things happened numerous times. I was just another kid he had to watch. I was not a person worth having in the group. I had no gift. He made that very clear to me time and time again. One day my family switched churches. We started going to Grace Community Church, a church that really focused on the arts. I went with my dad to an “artist meeting” one Monday night. The writing team wasn’t there, so I got to hang with the drama folks. They gave me a book (yes, for free ^_^) about how all forms of art, be it dance, drama, drawing, painting, computer arts, singing, music, and yes, even writing, are gifts from God. It talked about how there is really no “Christian” and “Non-Christian” art because anything that comes from a place of creativity is from God. A novel concept, yes indeed. The first words of the Bible are “In the beginning, God created.” WHOA! For the first time really in my life I felt like an artist. I had always dreamed of being an artist, but I couldn’t draw, so that dream was shattered. My spirits soared to heights I didn’t think possible. After about six months of attending Grace, I started going to the youth group. They had just gotten a new youth pastor named Brian. What a cool guy! He was fun, creative, silly and totally in touch with God. He never made me feel invaluable, but rather, as a necessity to the group. He called me “a blessing.” I had forgotten what it felt like to belong to a group like that. I have, in the last year, taken off with my writings, thanks to Craig and the arts team, my dad and Brian. So, the original question at the top of this paper like thing was “what is it about writing that I love so much?” As this last huge section of my paper has showed, I love to write because it is my art. It helps define who I am. It is a gift from God and born of pure passion. It helps me see my world in a different light and express that which I could express no other way. I can capture moments and feelings in a bottle forever. It has also taught me not to let others determine who I am or how valuable I am. That is not for them to decide. God determines my value and I have been given the potential to live it out, if only I will. That is why I love to write.