Thursday, February 15, 2018
Wednesday, January 17, 2018
So, college. I’m done with it now. And that’s great, because now’s the part where I get to finally pursue what I went to college for, what I’ve been dreaming of doing for most of my life. Writing. Full time. And I’m thankful that I got to go to the school which is now my alma mater, because they have a fantastic writing program. Thanks to that school, I not only have skills to refine my writing to a professional degree, but strong works vetted by industry veterans that are ready to send out. I also have experience and connections I would not have been able to get otherwise.
But, as I leave the land of institutionalized learning forever, I’m realizing there are things that they should have prepared me for that they really didn’t. I have my fair share of classes that I’m positive I didn’t need and courses I really wish existed. Especially now, sitting at my desk, writing this post, I’m all too aware of the things I am woefully unprepared for.
The biggest thing that still catches me as kinda dumb is the emphasis on learning things you probably won’t otherwise use outside of a school setting at the expense of things you definitely will, especially at a level of education where you are expected to have already chosen a specific area of study. It’s safe to assume that if you want to be a film director, you don’t need a working knowledge of theoretical physics. It’s nice to have, but not necessary. But that film student needs a science credit, and it’s either that or quantum mechanics. Meanwhile, a science credit that would benefit his field of study-let’s say camera mechanics or a lab explaining how to safely execute on-set stunts-is an elective. Call me crazy, I think it should be the other way around. That said, here are a couple of things that I wish (as a writing student) would have been part of the curriculum for my core studies.
You know what’d be nice? A personal/freelance finances class. Make it a math credit too.
I would have loved a crash course on how to handle finances as a freelancer, considering that most writers end up being just that. We’re essentially running small businesses, I feel like it’s important to know what exactly goes into that. And aside from running a business, college, you’ve got a bunch of students in your school deep in debt just to have the opportunity to be there, I feel like it’s in your best interest as well if you teach them the most efficient way to pay you back. That way, you can cash in on that money stuff you seem to love so very much.
Here’s the thing, the math credit I ended up taking was College Math. And it was a joke. It was basically a refresher of everything I learned from first to twelfth grade. No joke, I spent the first day learning how to round, add, subtract, divide, and multiply. I commonly cite it as one of the biggest wastes of my time at school and I was required to take it. Meanwhile, the closest thing I could find to anything relating to finances was an accounting class intended for Fashion Business students that I would have had to waste one of my elective credits for.
While we’re at it, include more business and freelance classes into the main curriculum.
Teach me what publishing houses will expect from me, show me tricks on how to make it into the business, have me prepare presentations that I can test out in the classroom before I can take it to the world. In all of the classes I was required to take in order to graduate from my school, all I was given a brief summary on how to write a cover letter in one of them. And even at that it was something the teacher decided to just casually bring up.
This isn’t to say that my school didn’t offer any classes on business, they offered one freelance-specific course, and all of the professors that taught the genre courses were sure to include a business element in their classes. But the freelance-course isn’t part of the core curriculum. If your program is designed towards equipping writers with the skills to make it in the industry, this is pretty freaking essential. It should be required that every student take an industry-business related course before they graduate because that is knowledge they will use extensively.
Also-IMPORTANT-Do not make me fill credits just to fill credits.
Never thought I’d say that too many electives would be a problem, but I can’t tell you how many semesters I had to pick a class that didn’t contribute to my career or any of my interests. Now, this could be a result of my bad luck with registration timing, but more than once I’ve had to consider taking Tap-dance for Non-majors just so I could graduate on time. Two semesters, I decided to go part time just so I wouldn’t waste money on courses that would not benefit me in the slightest. That is a problem, schools. A big, big problem. And I’m sure it’s not just my school that does this.
It’s good that an art school acts like an art school. It’s good that they put emphasis on exploring new things and going down paths that you wouldn’t otherwise consider. But when that comes at the expense of learning more practical skills, there’s a problem. Like any school, there’s a balance to be had when learning the humanities and the sciences. This one still needs a little work.
Wednesday, January 3, 2018
New Years has always-maybe counter intuitively-been a time of reflection. People spend their time looking at the previous year and trying to figure out what went right, what went wrong, just what exactly happened. I could do the same, but there’s not much to say about my year. In fact, it can be summed up in one sentence.
It was prep work.
I worked on finishing up school. Finishing up my book. Finishing up my part time job. Finding a way to support myself. Trying to cram my creative schedule in there somewhere. Going new places and meeting new people and getting ready for what I will be doing the rest of my life. But now I’m done with all that. It’s time to put all that work to the test. Everything is on me.
I.
Am.
Terrified.
But that’s not a good enough reason to not go forward.
For 2018, rather then spending time thinking about how I have changed, I’ll spend it committing myself to how I will change. I’m not going to make promises on about the future, I can’t. But I will set my intention. In order to making it as a content creator, there are things that I need to get over.
Thing is, if you’re reading this, you probably know me personally. Maybe we went to school together, or you go to the church which just last week was the job I left, maybe you just passively followed me when I was still with Geeks Under Grace. More likely, you’re friends with my mom on Facebook.*
That is what needs to change. I need to go beyond the people I know and reach a wider audience. I need to stop relying on the relationships I already have. I’ve been given storytelling, this amazing gift, and for whatever purpose it serves it needs to go farther then my own hands will reach if it’s going to do it’s job.
To make that happen, I need to be brave. Because I’m afraid of people. I’m afraid of the internet. I’m afraid that I’ll fail. I’m afraid that success might not be what I want it to be. I’m afraid that making writing my job will make me hate writing. I’m scared. Somedays, that’s all I am.
Fear. The thing about it is, it’s the only emotion that they say you should disregarded.** Happiness should be embraced. Sadness should run its course. Anger should be used for fuel. Fear should be worked in spite of. I think the most interesting thing I’ve ever heard about fear is that it’s the only emotion we don’t share with God. God feels Joy and Grief and Righteous fury, but God is never afraid. That is a product of a perspective that we have, moving through time in a linear fashion.***
I have no idea what 2018 will be like. Because of that, I’d rather sit here in this uncomfortable in-between then allow for the possibility that things won’t go my way. That is unacceptable.
2018 is the year where fear stops making decisions for me.
Stay tuned.
*Whatever the case, welcome back. Love having you here, as always.
**WHEN IT’S EXCESSIVE. When fear is telling you not to eat a sandwich full of spiders, fear should be heeded. Also, stop hanging out at that abandoned strip mall. People that go into that boarded up Quiznos never return.
***Insert obligatory Dr. Who reference.
Wednesday, December 13, 2017
Good day. My name is Nikki. I graduated college today. I have a book out for submission. I just finished reading Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Prachett. I recently found out that Heart Bound is a game that exists, which has me really jazzed. At the end of the month I'm leaving what will probably be the best job I'll ever have other than writing. Who knows what'll happen next.
Stay tuned.
In the meantime, photos? Yeah. Photos.
(Credit: Faith O'Leary)
Stay tuned.
In the meantime, photos? Yeah. Photos.
(Credit: Faith O'Leary)
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| Here's an old one of me for my friend's birthday. |
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| Here's a pretty cool one of me for a buddy's photo project. |
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| Here's one of me dancing at a friend's wedding. |
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| Here's me setting up at said friend's wedding. |
| Here's a cool one I took for my website that I never ended up using. |
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| And... this one is from a day I spent with my friends in Downtown Chicago. |
Wednesday, March 1, 2017
_News: switchswitchswitchswitchZELDASKYRIM._
Let me set up a scene for you. We’re in a Panera in the heart of Chicago’s south loop. It’s smack dab in the middle of three overlapping college campuses and during that awkward part of the day that’s not-quite-noon and not-quite dinner, when you’re starving but not allowed to admit it. The place is comfortably crowded, there’s still a solid amount of students lingering after the lunch rush with laptops open and plates littered with bits of lettuces and crumbs. Coffee flows freely, the smell of strong brew permeates in the air. There’s one, maybe two tables open with enough room for you and your squad. One of them is small but the other one clearly hasn’t been cleaned yet. Seats are taken, snacks are ordered, pages are out and felt-tip markers of fanciful colors are at the ready.
Now, the simple answer is to pass whatever work you have with you to the right, but writer’s aren’t simple. You’ve brought a couple of pieces, at request. There’s chapter 6 for buddy A-but don’t give it to buddy B because they’re not there yet. You specifically want buddy C’s opinion on this snip it from chapter 11 because you were emulating them while writing it and want to know how you did. You’re not the only one who brought more than one piece, of course not. Arms tangle together and voices combat each other for attention as every piece of paper on the table gets shuffled at least twice. At some point during this frenzy the waitress arrives and drops the food right in the middle of that mess.
At the ends, everyone’s got their own pile to work on. A silence falls over the table as eyes scroll past lines and lines of words.
Buddy A stops mid-read, looks up at buddy B, and slowly shakes their head. Buddy B looks smug. You worry about the pain about to be inflicted on your precious cinnamon roll, whom you’re fairly certain is in the scene that is currently disappointing buddy A. Not even five minutes later, you hear a small gasp from buddy C. Try as you might, you fail to smoother the grin that comes to your face. Buddy B snorts and scribbles a rather passionate note. In the piece sitting in front of you, you find yourself underlining every two or three sentences. You can’t help it. All of the imagery being used, it puts you to shame in all the best ways.
You are the first one to finish reading and, as such, have nothing to do but to stare at your buddies until they are done. You take this opportunity to go to the bathroom/refill your mug/actually eat something. One by one all Buddies finish. Rinse and repeat.
Finally, everyone is finished with all the reading and takes turns commenting on each other’s work. Buddy A’s sensory detail is poetic and beautiful, but they could use a little more inner monologue to connect with the characters. Buddy B’s dialogue is on point, all they need to do is keep writing. Buddy C got the bare bones but needs to expand on a couple of things. And you, as it turned out, nailed the characters. That’s exactly what you were worried about, so it’s a relief to hear that’s it’s not a problem. On the other hand, your plot is in danger of being convoluted, so best to keep an eye on that.
You glance at the pages you’ve received back. It’s stained in many colors, drawings, and witty remarks on what is happening on the page. Many lines are underlined and given an A+. There is are a couple of O_O, denoting all the tenser parts in the scene. On the last page, a Buddy that writes in blue asks “Why? Why? Did your parents not love you enough?”
Outside it’s getting dark. While Panera was once bustling, it is now comfortable sparse. You and the crew put away your pieces and spend an hour talking about classes, work, and things of a nerdy nature. After a while, you excuse yourself and start the trek home.
Let me set up a scene for you. We’re in a Panera in the heart of Chicago’s south loop. It’s smack dab in the middle of three overlapping college campuses and during that awkward part of the day that’s not-quite-noon and not-quite dinner, when you’re starving but not allowed to admit it. The place is comfortably crowded, there’s still a solid amount of students lingering after the lunch rush with laptops open and plates littered with bits of lettuces and crumbs. Coffee flows freely, the smell of strong brew permeates in the air. There’s one, maybe two tables open with enough room for you and your squad. One of them is small but the other one clearly hasn’t been cleaned yet. Seats are taken, snacks are ordered, pages are out and felt-tip markers of fanciful colors are at the ready.
Now, the simple answer is to pass whatever work you have with you to the right, but writer’s aren’t simple. You’ve brought a couple of pieces, at request. There’s chapter 6 for buddy A-but don’t give it to buddy B because they’re not there yet. You specifically want buddy C’s opinion on this snip it from chapter 11 because you were emulating them while writing it and want to know how you did. You’re not the only one who brought more than one piece, of course not. Arms tangle together and voices combat each other for attention as every piece of paper on the table gets shuffled at least twice. At some point during this frenzy the waitress arrives and drops the food right in the middle of that mess.
At the ends, everyone’s got their own pile to work on. A silence falls over the table as eyes scroll past lines and lines of words.
Buddy A stops mid-read, looks up at buddy B, and slowly shakes their head. Buddy B looks smug. You worry about the pain about to be inflicted on your precious cinnamon roll, whom you’re fairly certain is in the scene that is currently disappointing buddy A. Not even five minutes later, you hear a small gasp from buddy C. Try as you might, you fail to smoother the grin that comes to your face. Buddy B snorts and scribbles a rather passionate note. In the piece sitting in front of you, you find yourself underlining every two or three sentences. You can’t help it. All of the imagery being used, it puts you to shame in all the best ways.
You are the first one to finish reading and, as such, have nothing to do but to stare at your buddies until they are done. You take this opportunity to go to the bathroom/refill your mug/actually eat something. One by one all Buddies finish. Rinse and repeat.
Finally, everyone is finished with all the reading and takes turns commenting on each other’s work. Buddy A’s sensory detail is poetic and beautiful, but they could use a little more inner monologue to connect with the characters. Buddy B’s dialogue is on point, all they need to do is keep writing. Buddy C got the bare bones but needs to expand on a couple of things. And you, as it turned out, nailed the characters. That’s exactly what you were worried about, so it’s a relief to hear that’s it’s not a problem. On the other hand, your plot is in danger of being convoluted, so best to keep an eye on that.
You glance at the pages you’ve received back. It’s stained in many colors, drawings, and witty remarks on what is happening on the page. Many lines are underlined and given an A+. There is are a couple of O_O, denoting all the tenser parts in the scene. On the last page, a Buddy that writes in blue asks “Why? Why? Did your parents not love you enough?”
Outside it’s getting dark. While Panera was once bustling, it is now comfortable sparse. You and the crew put away your pieces and spend an hour talking about classes, work, and things of a nerdy nature. After a while, you excuse yourself and start the trek home.
Wednesday, January 18, 2017
_news: *the day after new years* *stares off in the distance, haunted.*_
Guys, the places I’ve been. The things I’ve done. And look it, I made it. We all made it. It’s 2017, and we’re all still here, still taking pictures of our cats in shoe boxes and obsessing over the Nintendo switch.
So, yeah, let’s talk about 2016. It’s been…I don’t even know what it’s been. It’s been incredible, it’s been draining, it’s been heartbreaking and terrifying and unreal all in the same breath. The only thing it hasn’t been is boring. And looking back, I realized I had inadvertently followed through on a bunch of new years resolutions I didn’t even make. Seriously. I ate better, exercised more, advanced my career, and reduced my stress (as much as a college kid can), coming out the other end altogether leagues closer to the type of person I want to be, I found that what had changed was not my life but my perception. Objectively, I’m still in the same place I was a year ago, still have basically the same problems. But now, I feel like I can handle them. My problems don’t knock me down like they used too. So I figured, why not write a sappy post about it. Because, in the end, what else did any of you expect?
So, here. Try doing some of the stuff I did. See if it works for you.
Read a good freaking book.
Not a popular book, not an easy read, a good freaking book. A niche little cult classic that’ll stick with you long after the pages run out. Example, over the break, I read John Dies At The End by David Wong and BOY OH BOY DID IT WRECK ME. That, my friends, that was a good freaking book. The writing snob in me didn’t complain, not once. That...that has not happened far too long.
Eat better.
Emphasis on the better. Don’t be a hero and throw out all of your ice cream in one go, you’re just going to be grumpy and have ants. Start by buying more fruits and veggies. Once you’ve got the hang of that maybe leave Captain Crunch on the shelf next time you’re at the store. Keep making little choices. You’ll get there in your own time.

Don’t stress about _______.
Whatever ______ is, don’t worry about it. It’ll work out. Humans, by definition, are resilient and resourceful creatures. We naturally adapt to our circumstances and find a way to make it through. As a being with a pulse, you inherit that legacy. And, believe it or not, you can fix your problems and not worry about them at the same time. Revolutionary, I know.
And that is what I’ve got. 2017, here I come.
Guys, the places I’ve been. The things I’ve done. And look it, I made it. We all made it. It’s 2017, and we’re all still here, still taking pictures of our cats in shoe boxes and obsessing over the Nintendo switch.
So, yeah, let’s talk about 2016. It’s been…I don’t even know what it’s been. It’s been incredible, it’s been draining, it’s been heartbreaking and terrifying and unreal all in the same breath. The only thing it hasn’t been is boring. And looking back, I realized I had inadvertently followed through on a bunch of new years resolutions I didn’t even make. Seriously. I ate better, exercised more, advanced my career, and reduced my stress (as much as a college kid can), coming out the other end altogether leagues closer to the type of person I want to be, I found that what had changed was not my life but my perception. Objectively, I’m still in the same place I was a year ago, still have basically the same problems. But now, I feel like I can handle them. My problems don’t knock me down like they used too. So I figured, why not write a sappy post about it. Because, in the end, what else did any of you expect?
So, here. Try doing some of the stuff I did. See if it works for you.
Read a good freaking book.
Not a popular book, not an easy read, a good freaking book. A niche little cult classic that’ll stick with you long after the pages run out. Example, over the break, I read John Dies At The End by David Wong and BOY OH BOY DID IT WRECK ME. That, my friends, that was a good freaking book. The writing snob in me didn’t complain, not once. That...that has not happened far too long.
Write.
Just write. Write really stupid stuff. Write stuff you won’t show to anyone ever. Write something with the only intention being to be a story you like. Read it when you need to give Sophocles a rest. Then go back and write something that you want to shove in all your friends faces. That is how good stories are made.
Eat better.
Emphasis on the better. Don’t be a hero and throw out all of your ice cream in one go, you’re just going to be grumpy and have ants. Start by buying more fruits and veggies. Once you’ve got the hang of that maybe leave Captain Crunch on the shelf next time you’re at the store. Keep making little choices. You’ll get there in your own time.
Pretend you’re already a professional.
You see that open mic or get an ad in your inbox about a contest or get an offer to pitch your work to a pro, don’t think about how there’s no feasible scientific way you’ll succeed. Pretend like you already have. Surprisingly enough, it works.

Don’t stress about _______.
Whatever ______ is, don’t worry about it. It’ll work out. Humans, by definition, are resilient and resourceful creatures. We naturally adapt to our circumstances and find a way to make it through. As a being with a pulse, you inherit that legacy. And, believe it or not, you can fix your problems and not worry about them at the same time. Revolutionary, I know.
Make plans.
Don’t let yourself get stuck, don’t let your life be work and sleep. Go sit down at a coffee shop, watch a movie you wouldn’t usually watch, go to a new restaurant. Refresh every once in awhile.
And that is what I’ve got. 2017, here I come.
Wednesday, October 12, 2016
_News: What even is a second draft._
Let's talk about churches here for a second. About a half a year ago I had a discussion with the leader of the middle school ministry of my church about why everyone seems to be bashing churches and church goers now-a-days. And I mean everyone. Even Christians themselves. Especially Christians, I think. My friends often talk about the flaws that most churches have in regards to policies dealing with mental illness, homosexuality, divorce, and other things that don't fit that "cookie-cutter-christian" mold we know all to well. I hear it in Christian music too, lyrics that insinuate or outright push this idea of "breaking free from the church", being bold and courageous and honest.
Now, me, I'm all for improving church. Let's talk about these issues, let's think of new ways to spread the word, let's be different. But rarely I find that's where these conversations are heading. It's seems like here, much like in other areas, we are collectively content to point a finger at the problems and nothing more. As a result, many people are becoming disillusioned to going to church, even though it's a God ordained element of a healthy Christian life. (Proof in 1 Thessalonians 5:11, Hebrews 10:25, Matthew 18:20 and Colossians 3:16.) And, what do you know, little introspective me thinks that at it's core, the problem lies just as much with us as does the church and it's missteps. So, let's focus on that. Let's look at why we're so disappointed at churches and see what we can do to change that. Then we can focus on fixing the problems in church.
First, I'm not sure if we're seeing the concept of church the right way.
When we think of church, we imagine this, right? The steeple in a barren land. The traditionally nice looking building that's supposed to always be unlocked. And we imagine that when stepping into one, our problems are supposed to melt away. There are supposed to girls in dresses and boys in suits and not a speck of dirt on the ground. And everyone's smiling and chatting and having their bibles out and talking.
Guys, this isn't what church is.
Let me tell you what happens when I, who is probably as cookie-cutter is it comes, walks into church. I'll get there at eight, I'll go into my office and print the chord charts/service orders/slide timecode sheet/so on. I'll go to cafe and grab a cup of coffee, and as soon as I see the kid who's mopping the floors you know we're talking about Pokemon Go. Or Skyrim. Or whatever the heck else is happening in videogames. Then all the high schoolers are going to show up and start yelling at each other about coming after their edges or something about someone in groupchat who's being problematic again. People are going to fill in and stick to their assigned tables with the people their comfortable with. I'll see people come in with their kids looking half dead, some huddle off in corners praying so intensely they might be crying, ministry leaders trying to wrangle their volunteers together to get things running on time. Someone's going to come up to me and tell me that we don't have the right creamer. Someone else is going to come up to me and tell me that the printer's jammed. And one thing that you can always count on is that somewhere, out there, there will always be an air conditioner that's broken. That's all before the actual service begins.
Here's what I'm trying to get at. Church is messing. It's sloppy. It's filled with exactly what it needs to be filled with, sinners. People who cannot be perfect. But we think it's supposed to be and that's where a lot of friction between church and the world comes from. Chances are you're going to hate it for being perfect without taking a single step in, or you will come inside and be salty because it's not.
This is the part where I go on the record and say yes, we don't have everything together. We meet in really old buildings, school gymnasiums, worship centers that smell like dentist offices. We're not always the most efficient group of people on the planet, sometimes we keep really weird hours and can't respond to your emails right away because we're usually made up of really small staffs. We're not always the most polite people on the planet. We don't have all the answers in the world. We get stuff wrong sometimes. Sometimes we know we're getting it wrong, but we stick with our guns because we want to be right and we're dumb. And I keep saying "we" because churches are the body of Christ. And maybe I'm just the awkward arm hair on that body but that doesn't make me any less a part of it. (Proof Ephesians 4:11-16, Ephesians 5:20, Philippians 2:2, and 1 Corinthians 12:12.)
And, here's the worst part, that is what a church is supposed to be. We are, by definition, a gathering of broken people who just so happen to put our faith in Christ. What did you expect? We're not Jesus. We're not God. We didn't write the Bible, on the best of days we just barely scrape the surface of what it says. We help with problems as much as we can, but we're not answer to them. We like to think we have a hand in helping salvation happen, but we aren't the way to heaven. We teach to the best of our abilities what we should do, what we shouldn't, and how to get closer to God, but we do not make people better. Christ makes people better. Christ is the way to heaven. Christ is the answer to people's problems.
Tl;dr Church isn't God. It's a club of people who happen to like him a lot, for better or worse.
(1 Corinthians 1:10).
That's all I got. 'Til next time nerds.
Let's talk about churches here for a second. About a half a year ago I had a discussion with the leader of the middle school ministry of my church about why everyone seems to be bashing churches and church goers now-a-days. And I mean everyone. Even Christians themselves. Especially Christians, I think. My friends often talk about the flaws that most churches have in regards to policies dealing with mental illness, homosexuality, divorce, and other things that don't fit that "cookie-cutter-christian" mold we know all to well. I hear it in Christian music too, lyrics that insinuate or outright push this idea of "breaking free from the church", being bold and courageous and honest.
Now, me, I'm all for improving church. Let's talk about these issues, let's think of new ways to spread the word, let's be different. But rarely I find that's where these conversations are heading. It's seems like here, much like in other areas, we are collectively content to point a finger at the problems and nothing more. As a result, many people are becoming disillusioned to going to church, even though it's a God ordained element of a healthy Christian life. (Proof in 1 Thessalonians 5:11, Hebrews 10:25, Matthew 18:20 and Colossians 3:16.) And, what do you know, little introspective me thinks that at it's core, the problem lies just as much with us as does the church and it's missteps. So, let's focus on that. Let's look at why we're so disappointed at churches and see what we can do to change that. Then we can focus on fixing the problems in church.
First, I'm not sure if we're seeing the concept of church the right way.
When we think of church, we imagine this, right? The steeple in a barren land. The traditionally nice looking building that's supposed to always be unlocked. And we imagine that when stepping into one, our problems are supposed to melt away. There are supposed to girls in dresses and boys in suits and not a speck of dirt on the ground. And everyone's smiling and chatting and having their bibles out and talking.
Guys, this isn't what church is.
Let me tell you what happens when I, who is probably as cookie-cutter is it comes, walks into church. I'll get there at eight, I'll go into my office and print the chord charts/service orders/slide timecode sheet/so on. I'll go to cafe and grab a cup of coffee, and as soon as I see the kid who's mopping the floors you know we're talking about Pokemon Go. Or Skyrim. Or whatever the heck else is happening in videogames. Then all the high schoolers are going to show up and start yelling at each other about coming after their edges or something about someone in groupchat who's being problematic again. People are going to fill in and stick to their assigned tables with the people their comfortable with. I'll see people come in with their kids looking half dead, some huddle off in corners praying so intensely they might be crying, ministry leaders trying to wrangle their volunteers together to get things running on time. Someone's going to come up to me and tell me that we don't have the right creamer. Someone else is going to come up to me and tell me that the printer's jammed. And one thing that you can always count on is that somewhere, out there, there will always be an air conditioner that's broken. That's all before the actual service begins.
Here's what I'm trying to get at. Church is messing. It's sloppy. It's filled with exactly what it needs to be filled with, sinners. People who cannot be perfect. But we think it's supposed to be and that's where a lot of friction between church and the world comes from. Chances are you're going to hate it for being perfect without taking a single step in, or you will come inside and be salty because it's not.
This is the part where I go on the record and say yes, we don't have everything together. We meet in really old buildings, school gymnasiums, worship centers that smell like dentist offices. We're not always the most efficient group of people on the planet, sometimes we keep really weird hours and can't respond to your emails right away because we're usually made up of really small staffs. We're not always the most polite people on the planet. We don't have all the answers in the world. We get stuff wrong sometimes. Sometimes we know we're getting it wrong, but we stick with our guns because we want to be right and we're dumb. And I keep saying "we" because churches are the body of Christ. And maybe I'm just the awkward arm hair on that body but that doesn't make me any less a part of it. (Proof Ephesians 4:11-16, Ephesians 5:20, Philippians 2:2, and 1 Corinthians 12:12.)
And, here's the worst part, that is what a church is supposed to be. We are, by definition, a gathering of broken people who just so happen to put our faith in Christ. What did you expect? We're not Jesus. We're not God. We didn't write the Bible, on the best of days we just barely scrape the surface of what it says. We help with problems as much as we can, but we're not answer to them. We like to think we have a hand in helping salvation happen, but we aren't the way to heaven. We teach to the best of our abilities what we should do, what we shouldn't, and how to get closer to God, but we do not make people better. Christ makes people better. Christ is the way to heaven. Christ is the answer to people's problems.
Tl;dr Church isn't God. It's a club of people who happen to like him a lot, for better or worse.
(1 Corinthians 1:10).
That's all I got. 'Til next time nerds.












