My Class and Freedom

My brain has exploded. My brain is exploding. Like in the movies when a planet or a star explodes, my brain is having those recurring blasts: one boom, then everything collapses inward, then a bigger boom, then implosion, then BA-BA-BOOM.

Except it's still going.

HOLY CRAPOLA I'M TEACHING A WRITING CLASS WHAT IN THE WORLD IS LIFE I CAN'T EVEN

I can't even.

It's amazing — and a little scary. I am like telling people what to do! What?! WHAT?!

What? What? No, but seriously. It's amazing. My dream! My dream is to write, and, right next to that, my dream is to get others to write. I am literally beginning to live the dream. I am living the dream.

It's on Saturday mornings. I've taught two classes so far. Day 1 was just a sprinkle terrifying. I have been dreaming of this class for years! I had churned and meditated and reflected and drafted and written about how it should go. And it went! And there are old people! Not old people — but older people. My youngest student is 35. My oldest student is 70.

Have you ever felt like you had something to say, but then you were given the opportunity to say it, and you think to yourself, "I can't say things! I'm just a dumb kid!"

That's how I feel. I'm just a dumb kid; I don't know why people would listen to my things.

But I'm breaking through that. Both days have provided such encouraging feedback all around, and, at some point, I have to get over thinking I have nothing useful to say. At some point, I have to trust that God set this wild passion in my heart for a reason — and just dive in.

So I'm teaching this class, and my brain is crackling with excitement! It's like electricity starting in the center of some circuit board, and you can watch as these nodes light up as the energy zig-zags outward. It's a slow zig-zag — but perhaps that much more exciting: you can see exactly which nodes start shining and which nodes are next!

I can see future classes I want to teach. I can see the online courses I want to craft. I can see the assignments I'll post. I can see students hating everything and demanding their money back. AND! And. And I can see students writing letters talking about the transformation that writing has wrought in their lives. I see this electricity at my fingertips, and it's crackling, and it stings a bit — but only as bad as static electricity: 1% pain, and 99% plain surprise.

Why?! I cannot tell you why writing throbs in my heart so powerfully. I can't. But I'd rather spend my energy just writing instead of figuring out why I have to. DUDES! And dudettes. I'm so dumb! Every time I write — or even reread — I love it. I am afraid! I've gotten caught up in the notion that it has to look a certain way, that it has to have a certain result. I've definitely trapped myself in what others might think! Not to the extent that you might think, but any extent is too much. Freedom: Galatians 5:1 "It was for freedom that Christ has set us free."

Freedom: that's why I love (Disney) pirates. Even non-Disney pirates. I've been reading about pirates, and many were evil — but that's nothing new. Humans are evil. You and I are evil. Many pirates, however, were good. Good despite the law. Good despite oppression. I don't know how many of them were believers, but a Christian should learn to defy evil for God's glory anywhere he can.

Let us first devote ourselves humbly to God's Word and will, but then any thread of bondage must be defied willfully, wildly, freely.