The last push. Write about the body and God. 12 pages. Go.
As if to challenge me back into memory,
I got the hardest case of writer's block
one could possibly have.
First, there was fuss.
Then I went nuts as deadlines approached, came and went.
Still: nothing.
Tears came and professors were compassionate.
On friday night, the last night of my "institutional calendarized"
graduate school career, I dropped to my knees.
"Please help me. I need you."
Knowledge failed. Books were no longer speaking from the shelves.
Blank screen. That's right.
"Please help me. I need you."
6 a.m. the next morning, words came like lightning.
I was dreaming Cusa and Levinas, only to find their words posed onto
my proposal upon waking. It came, and flowed, and came and flowed some more.
My favorite companions--Keller, Rivera, Donovan-Turner, Oliver--they were singing
so loud I almost couldn't hear Amos Lee from my speakers.
Pages upon pages have been born this morning, pleading for edits, revisions,
final drafts and emails sending forth.
So what did you learn? they ask.
What will you take away with you? they ask.
I learned (what I think I initially came here knowing and desperately wanting confirmed): At the 11th hour it's faith that saves.
Even a seminary degree pales in comparison to the mustard seed.
G*d is faithful, friends. That is the good news.
Hallelujah.
2 comments:
I am grateful to hear such good news.
This place, this community, is going to miss you dearly, EJoye.
How beautiful...I always feel bashful when I tell people that Jesus, the guy, the human, sits on the end of my bed when I need it most, coming usually because I ask, sometimes not. It's so miraculous the creativity that happens afterwards. And now I am thinking theologically and want to say all sorts of things about god's creative power, and our co-creative nature. Whether it's the paper that needs to be written, or the physical and spiritual power required to open ones eyes when that seems impossible. But, I think your probably get it...Congrats on graduating.
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