Things We Can't See

One of the things I have been trying to figure out, with my writing, is how to present my world view.  I want the characters in my book to demonstrate, by their actions, the things I have learned and want to teach.  It is difficult, because my world view is not completely gelled. I am very analytical by nature and tend to look for logic in all things, becoming frustrated when others refuse to behave in a logical manner.  I've learned, through my children, that in order to analyze the logic of someone's behavior, you must first understand what motivates them. You must understand, for example, that a child's desire to please their friends outweighs their desire to please their mother.  You must understand that they are willing to get into a fight with their mother and risk punishment (which seems very illogical) in order to avoid being embarrassed in front of their friends (by doing something like wearing boots when there is a lot of snow on the ground, because boots are not cool and sneakers - even when wet - are the thing to wear).  I am also frustrated when my own impulses seem illogical. 

I was raised as a Christian and trained as a scientist. Christianity, with its reliance on faith in things unseen, does not easily occupy the same space as my scientific mind and logical approach.  So, I look at motives to find a plausible explanation. The scientist says that religion is an organization created to control the primitive, superstitious populace of old.  As a scientist, it has no place in this modern world.  We don't need Zeus to explain away our fear of thunder and lightening. 

I would accept this explanation were it not for experiences of my own that remain mysterious and cannot be easily explained away.  Why is it that I often get a feeling that I should call someone close to me only to have the phone ring and find that same person is calling me?  I can't explain it.  Why is it that I have a feeling I should move a glass or plate, forget to move it and then find that it was knocked over and broken by me, the cat or someone else?  Why is it that my gut often knows that a situation is bad long before my head has figured it out?

The scientist says that my subconscious mind figures things out before my conscious mind knows about them. I'm not so sure. I know it's not logical, but I think there's more to it than that.  When one door closes, another one opens. I have seen it happen. I have felt myself nudged to do things that I don't understand until many weeks or months later, when the decision is revealed as something very good.  So, as I write, I try to listen. I try to allow myself to be guided.

For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.   1 Corinthians 13:12