In Word

A mother, young and perhaps frightened, great with child and in a place altogether strange to her.  Within her lies the very essence of God in human form.  Without is the world he has come to save, the world that, even now, is passing him by—a foreshadow of mankind’s ultimate rejection.

She does not speak this night, for the baby presses within her.  Her fingers tighten on her husband’s arm.  The warm air chokes her, and the suffocating crowd presses all around to her front and back, pulling the couple along.  Bethlehem is full, too full to accept that which was prophesied to come.  Too noisy to hear the brush of angel’s wings as they descend upon the quiet fields beyond the city walls.

Her husband takes her hand, his jaw working in suppressed frustration.  With his free arm he clears a path and hurries forward.  His eyes flit from the dark street ahead to the young face of his wife, so full of anguish.  He knows that she cannot go on, and his gaze locks on the inn just ahead.  There at the door stands the innkeeper, stroking his beard in amazement at the great crowds.

The husband moves faster, hears the cry that escapes his wife’s lips.  He calls out to the keeper in his native Hebrew tongue.  The man turns, shaking his head and holding up his hands against their pleas.  The inn is full.  Every inn is full.  His eyes fall upon the wife, her belly swollen and her face shining pale in the darkness.  Suddenly he softens, and, raising a weathered hand, points—the stable.  The stable is empty.

The radiance of a thousand angels lights the night sky.  They wait, listening and watching.  And then the feeble cry of a baby is sent heavenward, God and man made one.

Christ is come.

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Then, of course, there are those times in life where you almost have too much happiness to handle it all.  I’m sorry I’ve neglected this blog for the past couple weeks—maybe it’s because we’ve just been enjoying ourselves way too much.  A few pictures from Hope’s visit:

(Photography credit goes to Toni.)

Aside from having lots of fun, there’s been loads of things going on around here.  Debate tournaments, Christmas concerts, parties, and more…but it’s a great time of year.  And who knows—if I stop having fun long enough to think about this blog, you might see a few posts about all the excitement.

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Three days ago, I crossed the 50k mark for NaNoWriMo 2009.  Also three days ago, I got to see one of my favorite people ever.  Even better, she’ll be at my house for the next few weeks.  Needless to say, happiness abounds around here.

Hope is simply amazing, and I am pretty much amazingly blessed to have her for three weeks.  I have a feeling we’ll enjoy ourselves…but maybe that’s just me?

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Wow.  How did that number get so big?  Apparently November is slipping by as fast as the rest of the year.

Yesterday, I wrote a little bit for the first time in…seven or eight days.  Yes, I’ve done it again and saved all the work for the last week and a half.  I don’t know why I can’t just be normal and write a little every day like everyone else.

Current word count is 22,079.  About 4,000 from the past 24 hours.

The story itself is absolutely laughable.  I don’t think I have enough plot to believably fill the 50,000 words, so it’s become almost a character study—getting into the brains of multiple characters, playing around with dialogue, and realizing that the main character I intended to write about is by far the most boring one in the story.  Bummer.

I guess that’s NaNoWriMo for you.

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On Saturday, ARC journeyed to New Braunfels for the first round robin of the year.  It almost goes without saying that we enjoyed ourselves, hung out with lots of cool people, and had abnormal amounts of fun talking about the environment.  I mean…what else would we do?  (LD people, you don’t have to answer that question.)

Happy debaters—and a happy debate coach!

Former partners, turned LDers.

These guys…well, they had lots of fun.  Maybe more fun than should be humanly possible.

Danielle and Christina, two loverly ladies.

It’s just kinda fun to scare people with the Maisano/Morgan name.  (The initial fear doesn’t usually last long, but oh well.)

Afterward, we went out for dinner and checked out ballots.  Fun stuff.

So, it was a good day.  Full of friends and debates and candy and pizza and all sorts of awesome things.  What could be better?

(For those of you wondering about NaNoWriMo…no, I’m not giving up just yet.  Yes, the word count widget on the right is accurate.  It’s so much more fun to make an epic comeback in the last week…right?)

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I never really thought about forgiveness.  It’s always so easy to nod and smile when someone apologizes for speaking unkindly, or doing something they shouldn’t have done, or not doing something they should have done—because really, even though things like that might sting at first, it’s only reactionary.  It doesn’t hurt, deep down inside.  We can overlook it and move on.

But that’s not forgiveness.

Forgiveness is the pain—gut-wrenching, exhausting pain—endured.

Forgiveness is the heat of anger coursing in your veins, twisting your stomach—forgotten.

Forgiveness is the sick feeling of unspoken justice—accepted.

Forgiveness is the knowledge seared in your mind, the unfading memory—ignored.

Forgiveness is the unbearable weight of all the tears—lifted.

Forgiveness is the burning desire to condemn—silenced.

Forgiveness is the consummation of everything your battered heart craves, the wild longing for rectitude—let go.

Forgiveness is the death of self.

“For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.  But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.” –Matthew 6:14-15

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Word Count:  15,056.

Yes!  I wrote 56 words over the past three days!

But I also went to the lake with wonderful friends, had a fun orchestra practice, worked on essays for school, and edited and (almost) memorized a speech for competition on Saturday.  It’s been a good week.

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Word Count: 15,000

Just wanted to post that, because it makes me rather happy.  Week one of NaNoWriMo has come to a close!

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Word Count: 11,353

Yes, I wrote practically nothing today and yesterday.

This is what comes about when you toss two characters together just for the sake of dialogue, and then try to coax some life out of them.  It’s fun in the sense that I threw historical accuracy out the window and just played with it.  Not so fun in the fact that it’s hard to coax life out of two rather flat characters.

For those of you who were so kind as to comment on the last excerpt…well, I won’t even try to give a disclaimer.

All you who are embarking on your first NaNoWriMo, or considering it for next time: read and understand the absolute truth of the statement “quantity, not quality.”

—

Lilly paused a moment, and then decided that he had no right to treat her thus.  She ran a few steps and stood to face him again.  He didn’t appear surprised.

“What’s your name?” she demanded.

“Joel Delaney.  Second lieutenant.”

“Lilly Maloch.”  She paused.  “Laundress.”  She tried hard to keep any insincerity out of her voice, and was satisfied upon seeing the corner of Joel’s mouth turn up in a crooked smile.

“You do laundry?” he asked after a moment, as if giving in to her small-talk.  “From the looks of it, the boys in here need it.”

“Of course they do.  That’s why I do it.”  She tossed her hair over her shoulder.  “You said your name’s Delaney?  It sounds familiar.”

He shrugged.

Lilly brightened suddenly.  She always appreciated it when she remembered something important—or not so important.

“It’s in Erasmus’s book!” she said triumphantly, and he raised an eyebrow.  “He’s writing a story.”

“Erasmus?  Can’t say I know the man.”

“You do too.  He counts heads three times a day.”  She grinned.

“Ah.  The clerk.  What’s this about the story?”

“He likes to write, and he borrows his names from his lists.  Congratulations, Mr. Delaney.  You’re his main character.”

Joel blinked.  “He doesn’t even know me.”

“Well, he does now.  Or he knows the paper version, anyway.”

“That’s ridiculous.  What’s he writing about?”

“A prison escape.”

She saw him start, and his eyes shifted toward the floorboards.

“A prison escape?”

“Yes.  It’s positively ingenious.”

Lilly eyed him sideways, wondering whether he’d continue to press for more.  He didn’t appear too interested, regardless of his featured position in the tale.  How rude of him.  He ought to at least pretend to show interest.

She sighed a little and turned to leave.

“Well, I don’t suppose you find that terribly fascinating, Mr. Delaney, regardless of the pains I took to tell you.”

He didn’t appear to take that bait, either.  “Well, I hope the pains will leave you shortly.”

She frowned darkly.  “Good day, Mr. Delaney!”

He tipped his hat to her as she left.

—

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Word Count: 10,046

At the risk of sounding much the same as yesterday and discouraging any further visits to this uninteresting blog…today’s writing was quite uneventful.  My one small victory was in scribbling out a short-term outline in a notebook.  I now have at least a few thousand words planned out.  Who knows where it’ll go after that?

One-fifth of the way there.  That makes me happy.

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