Last night I got my book
10 Things I Hate About Christianity: Working Through the Frustrations of Faith back from my editor. It may sound strange, but, yes, although I don't have a publisher I do have an editor. I hired an editor on my own for two reasons:
1. Originally I intended to publish my book myself, so hiring an editor was part of the process.
2. I read a writing book that said it is always a good investment on your part to hire an editor on your own to go over the first draft even though you may be trying to get published. It can only help your chances.
So getting it yesterday means I had to resist the urge to stay up late reading it. But I did do a little reading.
It's very strange to read your own work. There is a sense of deep satisfaction knowing you have written all that your reading and accomplished a HUGE personal life-goal. But there is also a sense that it stinks. I don't know why that is. Probably just part of creating something in general, that goes along with the territory.
So I read chapter 2 on prayer. Below is little more sample reading to wet your appetite. Please let me know what you think. Have a great weekend!
#2: Prayer
I once had an office job, which took some adjusting to. I’m a hands-on type of person, and I like going different places and doing different things. Sitting at a desk was much more controlled and confined than I was used to. I gained twenty pounds from the change of pace.
One day I was sitting there at my desk trying to get in contact with the person in the next office. His door was closed, so I wasn’t sure if he was in a meeting or something. My need wasn’t immediate, so I sent him an email. No reply. As time went on the issue became more pressing, so I sent him an IM over the computer. No response. Next I called him on the office phone. I got his voicemail. I called him on his cell phone. More voicemail. I tried beeping him on the two-way radio feature our phones had. Nothing.
Finally, I got up and knocked on the door. He told me to come in. We discussed the matter to my satisfaction, and I went back to my office.
Thanks to today’s amazing technology, I had at my disposal a variety ways to communicate with my coworker. But though I wasn’t more than fifteen feet away from him, we weren’t any more connected relationally than before all these advances were available. In fact, we were more distant. They made our interaction less personal and therefore less effective. Even with all the new possibilities, the old-school face-to-face talking worked best.
There are no such technological advances to scroll through when I’m trying to communicate and connect with God. In fact, there’s only one—simply talking to him, or praying, as we say. No double and triple function buttons to fumble through with my fat fingers as I try to fire off a quick message.
Still, most of the time I feel like it doesn’t work, and I feel distant. Quite often it turns out to be even less personal than any other communicating I do in my life. I don’t find myself feeling measurably any more connected with him afterward. And I hate that.
I often wonder if there’s something I could do different. Or is it a pointless and empty undertaking?
Busy Signal
Everybody knows long distance relationships (LDR’s) usually don’t work. The love interest you had in the Niagara Falls area probably isn’t the person you married and had kids with. The odds are stacked against it. I’ve met a handful of couples who started out as LDR’s and managed to finish well together, but it’s rare.
I find trying to build closeness with God through prayer is ten times worse than any other LDR. It’s an LDR that spans not only the world, not just the universe, but even different dimensions. I mean, who exactly am I talking to? Where is he? Ground Control to Major God? Do you hear me? I sure don’t hear you.
Now I’ve met people who claim they “hear from God†all the time. And I’ve tried to get away quick. Those words always seem to be the precursor to an individual’s evolution into a serial killer. Those words are just foreign to me.
When I pray, my words seem to evaporate and hit the ceiling. I pour out my heart in hopes of feeling a touch or getting some interaction from God, but it seems he doesn’t answer. And I hate being left hanging and all alone. I never hear his comforting voice. God’s door is closed, and I just want some face-to-face time. It’s kind of a tease, a cosmic one. It’s not what I expected when it comes to talking to God.
I think most people probably feel this distance at some point, yet they continue praying throughout their lives. Even the hard-line atheist calls on God before rear-ending the car in front of him at full speed: “Please God, help!†It’s funny—everyone prays. I think everyone feels like it’s a good habit with some therapeutic benefit. But still we wonder: Does it work, or is it pointless?