What the heck do I begin with?

So I just got home from Red's, right at the intersection of Talbot and Rosecrans. I was there meeting with my journalism cohorts about a certain blunder the school is making that is affecting the lives of over 50 students and faculty. The whipped cream on the top of the hot chocolate I got was intimidating, but I could handle it. By the end of the night, the jargony journalism jokes were getting out of hand. We were drunk on free speech. Geez Amy, get a life. 

Blogging is a scary thing. Especially knowing that I have a repertoire of thoughts, lyrics and memories large enough to fill this cyberspace that I've catapulted myself into. Hey, you gotta start somewhere, right? 

My journalism professor told us that it is important to write everything down right when it happens, or right when we see it because if we wait at all, it becomes unreal. It no longer bears that fresh scent of raw legitimacy. 

I didn't write anything down today.

Does that make what I saw less real? Or does that make what I saw even more real because they were frozen in only those very moments in which life was lived out. 

Theorizing aside, I hope to write things down more. Scratch that, I hope to type things down more. Whether it be essays, memories, local and national events that have affected my heart, or just a picture, painted with words.  Welcome to my world.

I'll leave with my favorite thought that I entertained today. During our house's weekly Bible study, I brought out my copy of "The Cost of Discipleship" by Bonhoeffer. His theological stance on grace never ceases to amaze me, almost to tears. He refers to the way that many of us live our lives as "cheap grace," one that doesn't require us to give any of ourselves to receive it; one that justifies the sin without the justification of repentance; one that we bestow upon ourselves. 

Depressed yet? Don't be. 

Because we can choose to seek out costly grace. This is a grace that requires us to lay down our lives when we receive it. It requires that we lament the sins that we have lived in, and run from them, and THAT is our payment. That is our cost. The most beautiful thought Bonhoeffer presents is that this grace is costly, this grace COSTS because it cost God his own son. Yaweh, our creator, did not deem his son too costly for our little lives. I literally cost something. I have a price tag. 

Now that's something to write about.