If You can deceive me, You may.
If You can deceive me, You may.
Almost three weeks into my online writing class. Met with my academic advisor on Wednesday. Story Camp starts on Monday. Hosting four write-ins a week this month. My first short story is a whopping 86 words long so far.
i am probably crazy, but what fun is there in sanity?
i just had a crazypants, terrifying, exhilarating thought: You know those short stories i plan to write, inspired by the classes i take?
What if i give them to my professors at the end of each semester?
“Thank you, and here is one thing that your class inspired in me while i processed the material and discussions.”
i just got back from a wonderful and energizing campus visit at Denver Seminary. Along with a tour and a chat with an admissions counselor, i was able to attend part of a class and have lunch with a professor, and those two items on this morning’s agenda have left me more eager than ever to start school this fall.
The class i was able to attend was the first semester of Biblical Hebrew. It went a mile a minute and was conducted in a mixture of English and Hebrew, and i think i was grinning ear to ear the entire time. Yes, languages are going to be a new challenge for me, and i was a bit apprehensive about the three and a half years of language study i’ll have to do, but—the class was fun. Despite the disorientation and quick pace, the class was relaxed and the professor, and by extension the students, were having a good time. For the first time, i thought, i can do this. i even learned a few things while in the class—i was able to puzzle out two of the Hebrew names across the room from us, and learned a little something about—what else?—the grammar of Hebrew storytelling. (Start with perfect tense; continue in narrative preterite.)
The admissions ninjas (seriously, that’s what they call themselves) over at DenSem paired me up with the best OT professor they could have picked. Dr. M. Daniel Carrol R. is one of three full-time Old Testament professors, and over lunch we discovered a lot of common ground. He was raised Catholic and now attends an evangelical Anglican congregation (i have at times called myself “half Catholic” and often wonder how long it’ll take me to end up in a liturgical church of some sort). He studied English in college, and has a deep love of literature and Dickens in particular (i am a bibliophage and librarian who plans to pursue an English or literature degree after this OT degree, and i love A Tale of Two Cities). Dr. Carroll teaches OT classes from a narrative rather than historical background focus (being a writer and a narrative-lover who wants to study the OT in order to undergird my fiction-writing, this makes my heart leap!). He’s active in immigration reform (i am very concerned about the issue of human trafficking and plan to focus on immigration next year in the library, as those two issues go hand-in-hand), and, being from Guatemala, is very focused on 2/3 world culture and social ethics (one of my favourite classes during my undergrad involved reading William T. Cavanaugh’s Torture and Eucharist, about the disappearings in Chile; this was formative in developing my understanding that we Western Christians should not consider our perspective normative in Scripture interpretation).
One of the things i wanted to talk about during this visit was whether OT or Theology would be a more appropriate major for me, and while i was leaning toward OT, i was not 100% certain of that decision. i am now. Meeting Dr. Carroll was certainly the highlight of this trip. Jonathan has read his most recent book (Christians at the Border), and based on what he has told me i was already very eager to meet him, but i was surprised at how much we have in common. The other OT professors (one who focuses on Hebrew language studies and Messianic Judaism, and one who is primarily interested in Ancient Near East subjects) both will be wonderful, but i think i’ve found “my professor.” When i told him how i love the OT and the way G-d reveals Himself there, he said he hoped to see more students with that perspective. And when we met up with my admissions counselor after lunch, Dr. Carroll said he’d found a kindred spirit regarding the literary mindset. So i think we are simpatico. 🙂
Other things i was able to discuss with my admissions counselor included how i’d go about doing a double major (in case i want to add a lot of theology on top of my OT degree) and how i might be able to swap out some of the basic doctrinal surveys or other classes with more specific theology courses. (i’ve taken a lot of theology, and i do have a ton of Bible courses under my belt, so testing out or just plain swapping courses might give me a bit more wiggle room to take more electives. And i do love electives.) Unfortunately, i misread the course sequence for the OT major and didn’t realize that Anthropology and Soteriology, the elective i’m most interested in, is a theology class rather than an OT class, so it won’t qualify for my one elective slot. But i think i can work it in anyway—i really want to take that one. Dr. Carroll also mentioned that a hamartiology (theology of sin) class might be doable, and that sounds like something that would be very helpful given the questions i have about how to answer the problem of sin in a pre-Christian setting. Actually—having my elective slot open again means i might be able to take both semesters of Akkadian, and get to do a study of Gilgamesh. That would be awesome—but i probably ought to look the course catalog over again and see how Hebrew takes before deciding anything. Although i’d love to study Gilgamesh in the original Akkadian. (Wow, i’m a nerd.)
Now what remains is to follow up with one outstanding reference, and fill out my application for major (i’d been putting that off until after talking with someone in more depth).
i love this. i can’t wait.
Now that my Peet essay is complete (more on that in another post), my next task is to complete my Denver Seminary application. So here’s what i’ve got so far:
Steps 1, 2, 4: Done. Steps 3, 5, 6: Still in process. Plus, i need transcripts.
Step 3 involves the essays, and the print and online applications disagree on the formatting, so i’ve sent an email to admissions regarding that. (i do have the essays written, so unless i need to reformat them they should be good to go.)
Step 5, major and concentration, asks what specific major-related classes i’ve taken. i honestly cannot remember for sure—whatever OT classes were required, which i think is just Pentateuch, but i don’t have all my electives in my head anymore. Still working on reconstructing that. (It has been eleven years since graduation.)
Step 6 requires several forms to be filled out on my behalf. i have forms out to all my references (and at least one has already made it back to the school) and i’ve signed the statement of faith; now i need a spouse statement and a church endorsement.
In the aforementioned email to admissions, i also requested a campus visit. So we’ll see what happens next.
This should feel weirder than it does. But it doesn’t feel weird at all. And that’s weird.
Andrew Peterson and his wonderful little family sang this song in an online concert last night, and partway through the song something hit me that has never occurred to me before, despite my knowledge that the new earth that we’ll live in forever isn’t just limbo but life, not some ethereal harp-playing noplace, but a real, REAL, fully-redeemed physical place.
Jonathan and i were talking earlier yesterday about getting older and i said, “i’m so behind.” He nodded and said he feels that way himself sometimes. We’re in our mid-thirties, and he’s in school, and i’m looking to start school, and we’re only just sort of getting an idea of what we’re for, and meanwhile guys like AP are manhandling multiple careers with aplomb, having known who they were from the time they were 20 or younger.
But halfway through this song, these lines (which they’d already sung several times) spoke to me:
And it hurts so bad
but it’s so good to be young
And i don’t want to go back
i just want to go on and on and on
So don’t lose heart
Though your body’s wasting away
Your soul is not
It’s being remade
So don’t lose heart
Don’t lose heart
Your body will rise and never decay
Day by day by day
And it hit me: i WILL go on and on and on.
i think what we do in this life matters immensely, but:
All the stories i don’t get around to telling while in this old body will still be written. The difference is only in who gets a chance to read them (and what measure of grace and what manner of mystery inform my storytelling).
And that does matter—immensely—but there is still hope that who i am will remain; what He’s calling me to do does not end in my death; and i will have eternity to tell His stories. On and on and on.
That gives me a very different motivation to get on with it, and freedom to face the next two thirds of my life with eagerness to write, and without anxiety over whether i’ve done enough.
i have been stalking Pete Peterson lately.
This started with reading his brother Andrew’s Wingfeather Saga to my husband while we drove back and forth between Colorado and Indiana this winter. That led to listening to Andrew’s music, then to listening to more music by friends of theirs, then reading articles on their website, The Rabbit Room. i bought Pete’s historical fiction series and Jonathan and i are reading them together. i discovered, quite by accident, a piece of brilliantly nonsensical blogfiction that Pete wrote back in 2005-2006 (if i have already spoken to you about this and you have not gone on to read it, shame; it is most indibnible). So one thing led to another, and now i am quite unapologetically stalking Pete Peterson, fangirl-style, on the internet.
Lately that stalking has taken the form of calling up the Rabbit Room archives, looking for anything Pete’s written, and discovering an old narrative that has long since come to a conclusion, but was clearly a struggle for him over the course of several years. As i read, i am being drawn into an epic battle between a man’s heart and his seemingly empty prospects for marriage and publication and hope (oh, treacherous hope!) and answers. Although i am reading these things long after they have been resolved, the emotions he expresses in his very honest posts about this struggle are much too familiar. In the reading, i am transported—to his past, to my past, to my present, and to my own fear of and need for hope. i am just now realizing that this path is leading me somewhere. Somewhere i want to go, but shrink from all the same.
There seems to be a strange sort of convergence happening. i fear a lobidious syzygy. And the result of this is that i, like Pete did over five years ago, must throw myself headlong down the stairs and pray that G-d will catch me, even as i fear that He will not and i will break my neck in the fall. Out of his past, Pete urges me toward my future. i may break my neck and lie on the stairs gasping paralyzed in shuddering pain. But throw myself down i must, and trust that G-d will remake me, pleased by my self-abandonment as well as my acceptance of who He made, and is making, me to be.
i am returning to school.