You are what you love (and do)

The things that we enjoy doing speak to us in particular ways. Whether it’s painting, beekeeping, crocheting, dirt bike racing, or playing chess, we choose our hobbies because it brings us joy, and not because we have to do it for homework.

Something in the hobby sparks life and joy in us, speaking that which makes us human. It speaks to the Holy Spirit. It points us back to God.

Way back when I was a freshman in college (only four years ago, but to me that’s somehow an eternity) I didn’t have a major. At Point Loma Nazarene University, you didn’t have to declare a major until your sophomore year, which I exploited to its fullest advantage. Some of the perks about not knowing what I wanted to study included 1) getting to take a variety of classes and 2) calling home every few weeks with the newest thing I was interested in. Mom and Dad were supportive of all of it as I toyed with Psychology, Sociology, History, Communication, Applied Health, and Kinesiology. When I looked at the course list for Kinesiology, however, I saw a lot of science classes, and in the wise words of organizer Marie Kondo, they “did not spark joy.”

In the Spring of my freshman year, I took an upper-division literature course because it fulfilled a general requirement and worked great for my schedule. I got the letter of recommendation that allowed me to bypass the prerequisites and got to work reading. One day, the professor put us all into groups and asked us to talk about the reading. We were reading Jazz by Toni Morrison, and I must’ve monologued to my group for several minutes about the imagery, history, and plot, and the way the narrative itself mimicked jazz music. Once I’d finished, my group stared at me. “We didn’t read,” one person said.

Within a few weeks of that moment, I walked into the Records office and declared myself a Literature major.

For me, reading is something that connects me to thousands of different authors, an incalculable number of other readers, and reminds me how many people who have come before me, and how many will come after. It places me in the world, even as I experience the wonders of another point of view.

It continues to awe me that God created a world so complex that we humans haven’t run out of things to write about. In this way, reading turns me back to God, again and again, centering Him as my magnetic north.

Let me give another example. This past week I attended the Festival of Faith and Writing out in Grand Rapids, Michigan. I’m a Christian and a writer, so it was pretty much the best thing ever. I bought books, met cool poets, and spent several days talking about writing. I also went to a panel given by a Muslim writer, Kaveh Akbar. He read a poem written by one of the oldest writers we have in history: a priestess from ancient Mesopotamia. After he read the poem, the room was entirely quiet, and he raised a finger. “Do you feel that?” he asked. “The way the air has changed from when I started reading the poem to now? That’s because of a poem written four thousand years ago. Four thousand years, and causing me, in this moment, goosebumps.”

I write even when no one is making me do it. I write because I have been created and so I create.

As a child of God I have been given the spirit of creativity, and when I write and talk about writing with others, I’m constantly reminded of the wonder of God’s design.

This helps construct my compass, with Jesus as my magnetic north.

Whatever you do with your time: reading, writing, woodworking, public speaking, volunteering, or homesteading, brings you joy and taps into the life the Spirit gives you.

How do the activities you do connect you to God? How do they contribute to your magnetic north?

On Sunday, join us for our Common Table Gathering as we explore how our activities and hobbies bring us closer to God, and each other.

FOOTNOTES:

The title of this blog “You Are What You Love” and the “magnetic north” analogy both come from wisdom of James K.A. Smith in his book You Are What You Love