This is a piece that I originally wrote in order to introduce myself to my writing workshop class. I have since then revised it. There are a few of you who have probably heard me read it dramatically, too. (Sorry for the length, I thought I should keep this one intact so that you can get a complete picture of me before I continue writing.)
You want me to introduce myself?! Sigh. Welcome to the black hole that is Jaime. Let me draw the picture--
I was a black hole--we all are at some point in our lives. And what does the worldly individual do with his black hole? Draws on the walls. So that--even though he can't see within the hole--he at least knows the contents--because--well--he put them there himself.
Let me pause here: Was I a worldly individual? Not on the outside: I went to Sunday service, I obeyed my parents, I went to Bible camp. In fact, I had asked Jesus into my heart at the extremely knowledgeable age of six. But, looking back now, He didn't have control of my life. Oh no! Despite my external piety, I was quite busy sitting within my black hole, drawing on the walls.
Would you like to know what some of my drawings were? Of course you do (or--even if you don't, I'm showing you anyway because--well (shrug)--they were pretty good). The theme of my masterpiece was "PERFECTION." Over here is me as an angel; the perfect daughter to my mother. And over here--oh--now--I know this next piece is difficult to decipher--I'm sure if you dig deep down into those unused parts of your brain--you will be able to make out a girl who is wife, mother, therapist, and manager all at once: the perfect daughter to a father. And here are my sister paintings: "Perfect Sister Part I and Part II." Ah--this one is my personal favorite--I call it--pause--"Transcendence." As you can see, that is me, graduating at the top of my class, setting the school record, which--I might add--has still not been broken. Sigh--I used to stare at that one for hours. Oops--I almost forgot this small one over here: the perfect Christian girl who never really sinned (relatively speaking).
Yup--gazing over artwork--It was a great black hole. I mean--how could it get any better? It was perfect; I was perfect.
I had become so certain of my perfection, that one day, I decided to let Jesus in to see my drawings. Quite frankly, I thought He would approve of my work. Surely, He would be proud of me.
But something horrible happened! Jesus entered, and light flashed from his presence. My walls were suddenly bare! Blank! Blank! Blank! Blank! (Spinning) Nothing! My screams pierced the air: "No! No!" I began to push Jesus away: "Get out!" I pushed Him out of my hole, and locked myself within. Alone. Plunged into my self-willed darkness.
I tried to draw on my walls again, but for some reason the pictures would not form properly--they were only scribbles.
Eventually, the darkness became too much. And I thought: Maybe, just maybe, I should ask Jesus to come back.
As soon as He entered, light burst forth from Him again. I squeezed my eyes shut.
"Look," He whispered. I opened my eyes and gasped. There, on the walls, were elaborate drawings--much more beautiful than I had ever made--or even imagined. Jesus squeezed my hand as he spoke, "I call this _____________."
