More Questions Yesterday in our Lit class, our professor got off on a huge tangent about existentialism and how certain aspects of existentialism can be present in Christianity. This sparked a huge debate about the nature of knowing if God exists compared with not knowing and still decided to "take the leap" through faith. Several people were adamant that, through the Holy Spirit, a person can clearly know and believe, whereas several other people were very firmly stating that there was no way anyone could ever tangibly know about God's existence, and it's in this not knowing that makes our decision to trust God so purely one of faith. For all we know, we could be leaping off and no one will catch us, but we believe through faith that God will "catch us" so to speak. I'm not sure where I stand on this. I understand the premise put forth by those who don't think you can ever truly know, but at the same time, isn't it admitting that God might not exist? And in that, is one denying the existence of God, which clearly goes against any sort of Christian belief? People were quoting Dostoyevsky and Kirkingaarde, and it was getting beyond my understanding. But I did understand some of Chip's points, that everyone goes through a "crisis of belief," and comes to a point when they can't rationally explain God or his existence, and yet have to choose to continue believing. I've experienced moments like that. But at the same time, to me, this seems to go against the traditional Calvinist idea of Irresistable Grace- the idea that God calls us and we cannot resist Him. Maybe I think that I'm continuing to choose God despite the fact that I can never really know He's there, but really it's God not letting me go. I never took a leap; instead God reached over and grabbed me. I don't know.

This is only the latest in a string of questions I've been asking myself this semester. The early ones dealt with notions of right and wrong. So much in life is not clearly dictated as purely good or purely bad. And when I came to London, I was confronted with more freedom in the way I lived my life, and I didn't know if exercising that freedom and doing certain things was going against what glorified God. Looking back, that should have been the guiding question, but instead I focused more on the need to find validation or condemnation in scripture. I also wondered what a Christian life was supposed to look like. A lot of my friends here are Christians, but they don't necessarily live what I've always understood to be "good" Christian lives. Did that negate their claims to faith? Or were they "exercising their freedom?" What right do I have to try to determine their position with God? And how much of my Christianity is determined by what I've always grown up believing? Just because the people in my little circle of life live one way doesn't necessarily mean it's the right way. Do I believe things simply because I've been trained by my fundamentalist Christian sub-culture to believe them? Am I simply conforming to "social norms?"

This leads back to the discussion in class yesterday. We have been reading The French Lieutenant's Woman by John Fowles (a very good book, by the way); Fowles is an existentialist. In the book, he directs his characters to stop acting in bad faith; that is, making decisions in life influenced by others or social norms, and then blaming your decision on them: you couldn't help it because that's what your friends or your family or your culture expect from you. Rather, one has to come to the realization that they are responsible for the decisions they make, and that they determine their own existence based on the decisions they make. This led to the discussion on having to choose Christ and believe that he is the only way to salvation. There are things in this world that aid in our understanding of this: the Bible, the Holy Spirit (?- I'm trying to work this out, so I could be misstating this here), other Christians, Nature. But none of these will ever lead us to full, inflexible, provable knowledge that God exists. I think this is what some of the people in my class would say. And I'm still trying to figure out if I agree with them or not. I'll probably spend my summer reading The Brothers Karamazov and some philosophy books, which is huge for me, because I've always hated philosophy. I am encouraged by the fact that at least I'm asking questions. There are so many people who just blindly accept what other people tell them, and they never truly look at what they believe, understand the ramifications and implications, and still believe. I don't want to be the kind of person who just follows blindly. I want to understand what I claim to believe, and if I find problems with what I've thought, work to find out what is right. And I think I also have to acknowledge that it will never be possible to fully understand or believe completely rightly. I'm broken, I'm sinful, and I can never attain that perfect ideology or philosophy or theology because it doesn't exist in this world. But I can continue to "work out" my salvation in "fear and trembling." That's really all I can do.

Creativity. I was looking at another blog just now, one by Alex Beauchamp, a freelance writer from Seattle. And I was amazed at how I resonated with some of what she said about being a writer and having a desire for creativity, particularly in this article: Baby Steps. I feel sometimes like I have such a strong desire to write, to express myself in a creative and artful way. But I've never been successful; I've never been particularly artistic. I've always done well with music and writing, but the other side, the photography, the painting- I've never stood out as incredibly gifted. Yet I have a desire to incorporate these things in my life. Sometimes, I like to envision a life lived in bold colors, with freedom and satisfaction in knowing that I'm doing what I want to do. I'm still young-- I have time to work out this vision into reality. But I want to succeed. I don't want to just live it for awhile and have it flop. I want it to be the satisfying existence that it seems to be for others. And the risk that's involved always frightens me just a little, just enough to prevent me from ever taking that first step. Of course, I'm still in the process of getting to the point of adulthood; I have yet to graduate from college. But there's a life I want to be living that I'm not. And I don't want to merely look at other people's lives and copy them. I want it to be my own thing. But what that is exactly, I'm not sure of yet.

Simple Minds A friend and I were debating about peanut butter today. Should chunky peanut butter be less expensive than smooth? I mean, they don't have to do as much smoothing, therefore the work that goes into producing chunky peanut butter is less, and should be reflected in the price. But then we wondered if perhaps the peanut butter producers make smooth peanut butter and then add chunks afterwards, which would then reverse the previous idea, and would require smooth peanut butter to be cheaper. Unfortunately, we didn't really come to any serious conclusions about the price of peanut butter in today's market. In other news, I still have a cold. My nose has been stuffed up since the first week of February. I don't think that the people I've gotten to know this semester know me without a cold. So, when I think I sound stuffy and plugged up, it's normal to them. I don't like that. I don't want people to think that I'm congested perpetually (although this has been the case lately). I can sound normal! I'm desparately hoping that it's just some weird allergy, and that when I get back home, my nose will clear, and I can speak and sing unhindered.

Is it right to start the countdown? It's already almost the middle of May. I don't know how this happens, how time slips through my fingers like sand. It's just the way it is, the way it always will be. I can't believe that I'm heading home in four weeks. Four weeks from today, I will be landing in Omaha, Nebraska and rushing into the arms of my expectant family. I'm already dividing up the remaining time; compartmentalizing it makes it seem even shorter. Two weeks left of class, only three actual periods of Oak Hill courses. A week with Becca, showing her London, hopefully making her love it as much as I do. Finals week, but only two tests. Free time till Monday, the nineth. I can already see the days starting to pick up speed. It was already a week ago that I was looking forward to yesterday. We keep reminding ourselves to live for this moment. To not sacrifice today for the sake of tomorrow. And yet, I can't help but look forward. It's part of who I am as a human being, looking forward to what is not yet, and at the same time, trying to balance it with what I'm doing now. It's the eternal dance, one that I'm constantly trying to learn. I feel like I'll never quite get the steps right.