no warm fuzzies allowed

Well... I guess its time to 'fess up.  We're STARTing. 

Let me explain... one of my favorite columnists is Jon Acuff, author of both the blog page and book entitled "Stuff Christians Like", and also the author of a fantastic little book called "Quitter".  Its all about bridging that gap between doing what you have to do--your job--and doing what you love.  It doesn't tell you to quit your job, he tells you to find your passion, and do what it takes to do that. 

His next book is called "START", with a long subtitle of "Punch Fear in the Face / Escape Average / Do Work That Matters".  I know what you are going to say... another Christ Follower with a tried and true method of making you feel all fuzzy and warm, pumping you up, making you raise your head to the Heavens and say, "Yes Lord!  I am made for more than this!  I'll become what you want me to be!!" which is all well and good, until you have to go work the next day.   Or school.  Or re-join the real world in some other fashion

Warm Fuzzies are dangerous.  They make you feel so alive, so loved, so comforted... and yes, you are.  By God, you are loved and comforted.  By your friends, your family, your kids, maybe your spouse, maybe just your besties, but you are loved.   But they give you a false sense of love, of security, and they are the first things to abandon you when times get an inkling of being sorta kinda tough. 

Be it reading a book about STARTing, punching fear all up in its grillz and becoming awesome, or having a throwdown hoedown praise and worship session like no other... warm fuzzies like to take hold.  And when its over, where are the Warm Fuzzies that were all up on you like white on rice on a paper plate on a polar bears back on an Alaskan hillside in a January snowstorm? 

Gone.

But... what if its not a warm fuzzy?  What if you could avoid the warm fuzzy, and truly find what you want to do, maybe He wants you do?  Find that passion?

My passion, when it boils down to it, is writing.  I love writing.  I love blogging.  Yes, I love Disney, and I love planning trips and so on, that is a passion... but truly, doing what I am doing at this very second, expressing my thoughts to you via Algore's interwebs... that is what I can do.  This is what God has given me the talent to do.

And so I do not want to neglect that.  Hence, pouring hours this week into this website... it was in danger of becoming obsolete.  Or forgotten.  Or just left, with the intentions of continuing, and probably just left in a pile of old blogs that make you do math to figure out when the last post actually was...

I joined a START group on Facebook, and it was there that I was spurred to continue.  Thousands of people posting, from all walks of life, all about their own fears... their own forgotten passions... their desires to be more than what they were... their wanting to find how to glorify Him the most out of what we do... and I was so encouraged by it.

Next week, out of the 2500+ people who signed up, we will be divided up into groups of 24... over 100 groups across the country (world?) and given a 24 day challenge.  Who knows what it will be... but I'm excited about it.  I'm excited to be pressed.  I'm excited.

Time to drop the pretense, time to shake off the cobwebs, time to do what He gave me the talent to do.

I'm a writer.

I will write.

Final thought.  Here's one of my favorite songs of all time, ever.  Caedmon's Call off of their self-titled album, its a song that I've discussed here before, but always seem to find my way back to... "Close of Autumn".  The last line pierces me every time--its about how we aren't baby Christians anymore, and we shouldn't be hanging out in the shallow end of the God Pool.  Its time to swim.  Yes, my fear was that You'd leave me here.  A long time back, my feet... they could actually touch the bottom.

When I'm cold and alone, all I want is my freedom, a sudden gust of gravity... I stop wailing and kicking just to let this water cover me, cover me.  Only if I rest my arms, rest my mind, You'll overcome me, swell up around me.  With my fighting so vain, and my vanity so fought, I'm rolling over...

And in just the same way, this stream becomes swollen, swollen with cold up over the ground.  When my heart draws close, to the close of autumn, Your love abounds.

All this time I've been thinking, wondering, how would it be to breathe in deep?  Guess I need to be careful when I ask for a drink, just might get what I ask for.  And I know just what You say to me, that's why I don't ask You, what would I ask You?  I'm like a bull-headed boy these days, crying "my toy's gone!"  You're shiny and new.

Cause in just the same way, this stream becomes swollen, swollen with cold up over the ground.  When my heart draws close, to the close of autumn, Your love abounds.

Guess I'll drop my anger here, before I float away, and the chains around me.  And awful lot of talking, I don't leave You much to say. 

You didn't ever leave me.

Any my greatest fear, was that You'd leave me here.

A long time back my feet...

...could touch the bottom.

Thank you for reading with me.  Hopefully, you'll join me in the deep end.  Some say I might be going off the deep end.  And peruse the blogroll, you might find a few random blogs you didn't know before...