editing.

I love to edit.

Earlier in the semester I had written about the fact that one of my favorite classes was likely to be Research Writing; I was correct. I have loved learning to write and re-write.

Editing has also been a big part of my internship this semester. I get to edit scholarship and application essays for city students. Friends have also taken me up on the offer as I refine, learn and love to be creative with words.

This week, however, I have been reminded of my undeniable humanity.

You see, the more experience I have in editing the more able I feel. Unintentionally I have taken it to parts of my life for which it wasn't intended. More than words on a page, I try to edit my story. The Author writes a perfect and complete sentence; but I'm just sure that I could do better, and out comes the red pen.

Darn you, red pen.

I was not created to be the editor or perfecter of my life. When I try to, a lot of red ink just gets everywhere and things look a little ridiculous... there's not enough white-out in the Midwest to cover my good intentions.

I edit out a circumstance here and insert a relationship there. I cross out an event or conversation here and insert something selfish there.

No wonder I just want to turn the page.

Instead, I'll put down the pen and hold my crayons again. My attention is re-captured. In stillness I'll seek in joy and humility. Already there's freedom in unforced and uncontrolled rhythm. Just one taste has unconvered my apparent hunger.




"Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God" (Hebrews 12:1-2).