I've been taught that stories work in predictable patterns. You have your exposition, where the characters and setting are introduced; the rising action, in which suspense begins to "rise" as the central conflict develops; the climax, often the moment of greatest emotional intensity and in which the outcome of the conflict is decided; and the resolution, in which all remaining subplot conflicts are resolved.
There is some climax looming, expressed in an undercurrent of hopefulness at prospective change.
Change. It's a word both frightens and encourages me. It's a word that, to me, means losing the financial and social stability of a job in which I've worked for nearly five and a half years and taking a position that pays less and which promises only hope.
Hope. It's something I felt very strongly after the trip to Haiti, but life has somewhat eroded that sense of awe I felt. I knew that would happen, but I feel it will return as a second Haiti trip looms and as a new team works together in community.
Community. I haven't seen much of it lately, but as I surface from the depths of this class, it's something I hope to encourage again soon in myself, to fulfill in the context of the church the natural human desire to love and be loved.
Love. It's something I don't quite understand, but as I learn ever more about what has gripped me and kept me simultaneously desiring closeness and distance, I see why the friends I have are-- on the whole-- the ones I trusted before I found myself so emotionally suspended.
Suspense. If my story plays out in its current rising action, then the undercurrent I mentioned will burst forth into a visible conflict that must be decided.
Decision. No, I'm not good at it, but I hope to make one soon.
There is some climax looming, expressed in an undercurrent of hopefulness at prospective change.
Change. It's a word both frightens and encourages me. It's a word that, to me, means losing the financial and social stability of a job in which I've worked for nearly five and a half years and taking a position that pays less and which promises only hope.
Hope. It's something I felt very strongly after the trip to Haiti, but life has somewhat eroded that sense of awe I felt. I knew that would happen, but I feel it will return as a second Haiti trip looms and as a new team works together in community.
Community. I haven't seen much of it lately, but as I surface from the depths of this class, it's something I hope to encourage again soon in myself, to fulfill in the context of the church the natural human desire to love and be loved.
Love. It's something I don't quite understand, but as I learn ever more about what has gripped me and kept me simultaneously desiring closeness and distance, I see why the friends I have are-- on the whole-- the ones I trusted before I found myself so emotionally suspended.
Suspense. If my story plays out in its current rising action, then the undercurrent I mentioned will burst forth into a visible conflict that must be decided.
Decision. No, I'm not good at it, but I hope to make one soon.
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