Ordinary.

Lately, writing has become very difficult for me, almost foreign. It's not that I lack the emotional drive or creative flow necessary, but rather, I just don't feel my words are worth recording.

The profound rhetoric I strive to produce is consistently bland. It doesn't hold any ground-breaking, epiphanic revelations that people wouldn't eventually discover and come to terms with on their own. My writing is no closer to Shakespeare than the next guy's.

There are so many people in the world with wisdom and talents that far exceed my own. What they have to offer this world is something to be desired and cherished and used for good, even amazing things. They make our lives better, sharing with us their awe-inspiring and God-given abilities. This handful of people compels our culture to keep growing and searching for newer and greater people to cultivate each successive generation.

In your mind right now, you probably have your own personal list of "inspirationals" that you look to: an actor or actress who can literally become anyone, an artist who could paint your soul if you asked them to, some singer whose voice is too beautiful for words, or that author who could pretty much capture anything in words. They seem so perfect and untouchable up on the pedestal we place them on. Legends, plain and simple. 

Where, then, does that leave the rest of us, the normal people like me with a decent grasp of the English language, everyday drama, a job in the fast-food industry, a dull baritone vocal range, and the ability to construct well-proportioned stick figures?

Ordinary. That's where it leaves us.

But as a population of perfect people, what would impress us? How would we find entertainment in anything? How would anyone rise up to any level of achievement if everyone else was on their level? Or, perhaps the best question to ask: why would anyone need God? If we didn't have problems, if we didn't have restrictions on what we could do, we wouldn't need God.

These crosses we bear, these everyday struggles and limitations aren't just burdens for the simple cause of discouraging us. They're an assurance of our faith, a reminder that we may not have it all like we want, but we will one day in eternity. 

These things are in our lives to remind us that although we are ordinary, we have an extraordinary God that we can rely on, a God we can rely on forever.

Growing Up.

Maturity is a very fickle subject to tackle. Being a teenager, many people will probably argue that I don't have the mental capacity to effectively discuss it. But it's my blog, so the naysayers can leave. Effectively.

As far as the method in which a person matures, I tend to think it's different for everyone. I feel like maturity is the summation of past experiences and, essentially, just something you gather as you age. Some will naturally soar to heights of wisdom and understanding unreachable to most other people, while others will do the minimal amount of "growing up" necessary to survive. I don't feel that I, myself, am at either extreme. I'm somewhere in the middle, a happy and agreeable medium.

I assumed this was a good thing, assurance that I'd never encounter a relationship in which the maturity levels of myself and another person were SO vastly different that I couldn't coexist with them. 

Apparently, I thought wrong. 

Maybe when the dust settles, all the petty drama, the snide comments, and the "accidental" revelations will cease. Then, maybe something salvageable will come from all this. Maybe a relationship, maybe just a pile of hollow regrets. Regardless, I can't stop growing just to let someone else catch up.
                    

Just go with it.

I've lost the will to write recently, so I'm trying to force myself to do so. This is, more or less, just an update of the stuff going in my life. I realize 90% of the people who find their way to this page don't care, but they'll get over it. Also, to that 10% left over? You guys are some seriously awesome sauce.

It's not for lack of trying that I've been absent for quite some time now. I'm gradually pulling away from things that could be considered my "comfort zone" like my attachment to my laptop (and Facebook). I can't really say it's been fun, but it has yielded several good things.

I recently turned 19. I guess, that's sort of an accomplishment. I realize birthdays are very important to some people though, and it's not nearly as egocentric of a celebration as I make it sound. I just don't like to place emphasis on my birthday, because that implies that I'm worthy of recognition or that my birthday is a sign of the day the world got the incredible gift of David or something. An accurate birthday card for me is something that says, "Congratulations! You've managed to evade death for another year!"

During my absence, I've done some heavy thinking. I've allowed hinderances to consume me, then I've prayed like a madman until I could raise up and overcome them. And, through God, I have overcome them. It's not over, because those things will undoubtedly come back, and the cycle will have to begin again and again. Rinse and repeat. I know some people would probably criticize my methods, but it's how I've learned to deal with the crap life so willingly dishes out.

I've tried to use "Yes!" and even a few reluctant answers like "Sure!" more than my preferred response of "Heck no!" lately. Not because I want to book my entire life out to my friends and family and the community and the rest of the world, but I really want to experience something. I want to be a part of something bigger than myself. Yes, it's very cliche. But I mean it.

God's got my life in His hands, my future determined, and my heart where He is. I realize that. I realize that God alone should be that grand adventure to fill the void in me, to fulfill my purpose, but I've never been a patient person. I want something awesome and incredible to happen now, so I've allowed every opportunity that doesn't compromise my stance as a Christian to fully present itself. Go-with-the-flow, ride-the-wave, and all that jazz. Waiting on people is hard, waiting on God is practically impossible, but I'm looking forward through every new door with anticipation.