Sunday, March 14, 2010

Curious

I get to points in my life where I sort of fear this blog. I try to treat it as a vessel for the things untold in life and I get worried. What if I don't have anything good enough to say? What if my words don't matter? What if I am inadequate?

Is it possible to have writer's block if I'm not a writer? Or does the fact that I have things to say and I sometimes publish them in some form or another make me a writer?

I am in my head. I am always in my head. I don't write things in journals because they are better in my mind. I have journals, but the entries are few and far between.

I think everything through. I observe all of the little details. I analyze people's actions and words. I ask questions. When I study with one of my friends she gets frustrated because I ask questions that don't matter, questions of things that we are not being held responsible for. But I want to know. I need to know. I crave to know.

I think that is my point here. Curiosity. God made this unbelievable world for us to live in. It is full of beauty and mystery and complexity. Do you ever wonder why? I do. Daily. I haven't figured it out, obviously, but I have my theories.

He made it so that we could be in awe, of His power and His ingenuity. He made it so that we would need faith, to trust that things will grow and people will live. He made it so that we would think, about how things work and why they exist.

My biology professor often refers to unexpected things in the body as "bad engineering." It makes me question if he believes. Do his questions about why the body was constructed the way it was prevent him from having that child-like faith? It does the opposite for me.

Because if I didn't have all of these questions but instead had all of the answers, why would I believe?

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