Nerds and Dorks

Feeding "wild" donkeys at Custer State Park in South Dakota

Someone wrote on the white board at church in permanent marker. There were three kingdoms. One of them was labeled “The Kingdom of Dorkness.” I stared at it quizzically for a moment, wondering what spiritual truth I was missing, then realized it was just a poorly written “a” and should have been “Darkness.”

A friend of mine jokingly claimed membership to the Kingdom of Dorkness and I had to laugh. I was never a smart kid growing up in elementary school. I had the imagination and distraction level of Anne of Green Gables, only I didn’t get the grades. The teacher always sounded like the adults in Charlie Brown. I don’t think I ever heard an instruction, but I usually figured out what I needed to do and got by.

In high school, I discovered my love of learning and my grades began to improve. I learned that every bit of information could be used to enrich a story. I started ninth grade wanting to be cool, but by tenth grade realized that I didn’t have a chance at it anyway and would rather just lose myself in a good book. I began skipping lunch so that I could sit in the library and read. True story. I even read the dictionary for fun.

But I never wanted to look like a nerd. I still disguise myself the best I can. But nerds and dorks have their place in life too. During the Russian Revolution of 1905, Boris Pasternak (author of Dr. Zhivago) was considered a threat to the Communist Party simply by virtue of his profession. Pasternak considered himself a poet and a romantic, not a political instigator, but all writers were considered a threat because of their ability to influence.

The first time I read “Redeeming Love” by Francine Rivers I cried my eyeballs out, but walked away feeling like God had healed another layer of my brokenness. As Angel’s story unfolded, my own emotions were given a voice and I experienced the journey of discovery and healing alongside her.

My prayer is that God can use my love of words and ideas to touch deep chords in the hearts and minds of my readers. Whenever I’m tempted to give up on this dream, I remember why it’s important that I keep going.

I may not be as gifted as Pasternak or Francine Rivers, but God has been known to use donkeys, so I guess He can use me too.