writing so as to avoid writing

i have gotten to the point in life where i consider myself a writer.  i have accepted it,  acknowledged it, and have admitted it to others. this wasn't easy--although i've written stuff all my life, i never thought i was good enough, serious enough, or whatever enough to be a 'real' writer.  now, my sister is a writer.  all through our childhood she was the one with scraps of paper everywhere, poems, stories... got her master's in writing.  she has had the writer identity in the fam. so it's taken me a while to come to terms with being a writer.  but i am.  and i have. and i write.

i  blog okay, not as regularly as i should, but still!, i've written a couple of poems, and i'm working on a book.  at least--i've written bits and pieces. i read books like anne lammott's bird by bird, or art & fear by bayles & orland that i'm very slowly working through with the rockstar. i attend a serious writer's group monthly.

i'm a writer. really.

all right, then. 

but the truth is--i more often think about writing than i actually write. way more often.  i've written three-quarters of an essay/article that might actually be good enough to publish--maybe--but i haven't finished--because i'm still thinking about it. i have a poem that i've been working on, as i put it,  for a year.  i think. and there's the afore-mentioned book, which right now would qualify more as scraps.

and this blog--well, let's face it.  i certainly post much less frequently than any of us--you or i--at least i hope; if not, please don't destroy my illusions;  i'll be crushed! would like.  however, it might seem more frequent to me because there are quite a few posts you've never read that are brilliant--brilliant, i tell you--but they've never gotten out of my head. but i've thought about them. thought about writing them. a lot. 

it's not that i don't enjoy writing, you know.  although i do sometimes resonate with these two quotes:

i didn't know this, but the hardest part about writing a book is ALL THOSE WORDS.  The easiest part is ALL THAT DRINKING.  (on dooce's blog)

and--

Writing is easy: all you do is stare at a blank sheet of paper until the drops of blood form on your forehead.  Gene Fowler, quoted in art & fear.

all of which is a big lead-in to today's situation:  i'm writing here to avoid writing other things. how's that for ironic?

i'm applying for credentialing.  meaning, although i won't be ordained, i will be officially licensed, able to do official-pastor kinds of things like marrying and burying  that sounds much better than it looks, so you might want to try saying it out loud to yourself.  see what i mean? and able to receive the clergy tax benefit. and because it's so official, applying means paperwork.  lots and lots of paperwork.

some of it's not too bad.  basic info: name, church, title, what kind of credential i'm seeking, employment background, etc.  signatures: mine, my lead pastor's, the chairman of the leadership team's. letters of reference not too bad, i've got a couple of favors i can call in. background check yes indeed! fees to pay, interview gulp! to schedule... while tedious, not a really big deal. 

but then--there's the statement of faith paper.  and, surprisingly to me, some of the minister's profile form.  with questions such as how i apply the denomination's affirmations (things like the centrality of the Word, necessity of new birth, etc, etc...) to my 'daily practice of ministry'.  or, describing my sense of calling to ministry.  or...  yeah, truth is, i'm having a little trouble even typing those questions here, so i'll stop now.  you can just speculate.  and probably not come even close.

it's not that i don't understand why they'd ask these things.  i get it.  they need to know about the people they're credentialing.  they need to know if we're really people suited to ministry, suited to pastoring, appropriate to 'turn loose' to care for church congregations.  i get it.

but then i try to answer the questions.  and i struggle.  because,  how can i put something as immense and organic and crazy and intimate as my relationship with the living God into a short paragraph for others to read, examine, analyze and critique? how can i boil down the thing that's as integral to my life every minute as the air i breathe if not more so into a paragraph of a certain number of words, and express it in a way that answers the question and helps move me forward toward something i want that they have the power to give or not?

now, granted, part of my struggle is that i live my life of faith mostly from my heart. some of my friends call me a mystic, a label i won't deny.  and more and more these days i'm living through the artist part of me--emotional, experiential, and essential.  so it's harder for me to put that into words than it might be for many people.  language fails. which is pretty tough to admit as a writer. but the other part of it for me is the fear that my faith experience won't be understood.  won't be considered adequate.  or might even be considered... weird.

but all right. i've put it off long enough. i've got to go find a way to make sense of it to people who don't live it with me.  to people who want to know if i'm someone they'd be proud to point to as a credentialed person of their denomination.  if i'm someone who's qualified, not just certified, to receive that clergy tax benefit.

oh my.  i think first i'll go have a beer.

Comments

[andi]

So? Did you do it? Did you get it written?