Longing for something more

When I was a little girl, I desperately wanted for Narnia to be real. Longed for it, even. I remember wishing with everything in me that one day I would be transported there.

Jesse and I saw Pan's Labyrinth on Friday, and afterward we talked about the human race's obsession with fantasy. Some of us are more inclined to it than others, and some outgrow it when they become adults and fancy themselves too important and serious to be bothered with such childish thoughts. But a look at movie box office numbers reveals that there are many of us who are captivated by the idea of a different world, another place. Somewhere with mythical creatures, magic and adventure. Some look to the stars, some look to the past, others secretly hope there is another world right behind the next door. But we all share a common longing.

I think that desire is God-given. This world is beautiful--God's creation is breathtaking. But our spirits know there is something more. Somewhere deep within us, our spirits are yearning for a perfection and beauty that our minds can't fathom. No matter how good our lives, no matter how happy our families and beautiful our surroundings, something within us cries out for more.

And so we create fanciful worlds, imaginary kingdoms and far-off lands, all in an effort to fill that desire that comes from our innermost places.

It will never truly compare, but the occasional tastes of something magical and beyond ourselves are healthy, I think--because there is more to this world, and our lives, than we can see with our eyes and touch with our hands. It is when we stop dreaming, when we give up imagining, that we settle for the mundane. And there is so much more.

Nerd alert! Nerd alert!

I wrote most of this last week. I'm lazy, and therefore just now finished it.

I'm exhausted today. I got roughly five hours of sleep last night, because I was a crazy geek last night, and went to EB to snag a copy of Burning Crusades as soon as it was released. Definitely an experience.

The evening started with my church-history class at church. I've been taking this course since November, and while I sometimes find it hard to get my butt back out the door on a Monday night after work, I'm always glad I went. I've learned so much about the beginnings of the church. One of the things that I love about my church is that it doesn't sugarcoat things. Todd doesn't try to pretend like all is well in Christianity today. He calls it like he sees it, and speaks truth, even when it's not pleasant. And the same holds true for the School of Ministry classes. They're not pulling punches here--not painting a rose-colored picture of the church. Some terrible, greedy, downright evil things have been done in the name of Jesus over the centuries. And to ignore that, to pretend like it was all sunshine and rainbows, is to risk repeating those mistakes. But at the same time, it is so encouraging to learn of how God has worked through even the most difficult circumstances. Even when things seemed dark and hopeless, the thread of Providence continues. God finds people and uses them to impact the world around them. And they're not always the people we would choose, and the timing certainly isn't always what we would consider ideal; but He is still at work.

Anyway, Jesse came with me to class last night, and afterward we headed out to Dublin, where we had our copies of The Burning Crusades reserved. We had an hour or so to kill before EB opened at 11, so we stopped by The Cheesecake Factory. After some spinach dip, cheesecake and coffee, we headed back to EB to wait.

We were the seventh to arrive--I know this because of the big red "7" they wrote on our receipt when we purchased our games. The guy behind the counter asked if we both played, and when we said yes, he said "Let me guess ... warrior and priest?" He was right about priest, at least.

We spent the next half-hour or so staying close the walls of the store, trying to avoid the growing cluster of game geeks in the middle of the room, the ones discussing things like arcanite dust. Here's the odd thing about being a semi-hardcore gamer: I am completely at ease discussing things like arcanite dust and talent points online or in private conversation with people like my husband or friends who game; however, I avoid talking about such things in public at all costs, because I am fully aware of how ridiculous it sounds.

After the first half-hour, the self-imagined gods among geeks that are EB Games managers decided that the store was too full, warning us that if the fire marshal came by, the store would be in trouble. Because fire marshals typically patrol videogame stores at 11:30 p.m.

So out into the cold we all went. At this point, we could no longer avoid interaction. One of the few other women present announced that she had brought snacks, and proceeded to arrange chips, salsa and candy on a table. I felt badly about not eating her snacks, and was relieved to see some other people take advantage of the offer. People began grouping into small clusters, and we found ourselves talking with the two other Horde players present: a chubby pale kid who claimed to have a GM friend and Tier 3 armor, and an Asian girl about my age, who was refreshingly normal. She and I comiserated about playing Horde (we'd both been roped into it by other people), and discussed our Blood Elf plans. It felt less nerdy, since she seemed like a sane person with a real life, but I suppose it probably wasn't.

Finally midnight rolled around, and we got to grab our copies of The Burning Crusades. Although only six at a time, thanks to afore mentioned power-hungry EB manager. Then it was back home to install. Eventually got to bed about 2 a.m., far too late for my mid-20s self.

Resurrecting Muse

The great thing about my MySpace blog is that people actually read it.

That's also the problem.

It's not that I mind people reading my blog. That's kind of the point of putting it on the Internet.

No, the problem is that I find myself writing TO other people, when what I'd really like is just to write. To spill out the thoughts and words inside me.

And if someone wants to read it, that's fine. But this blog, at the moment at least, is for me.