{"id":10314,"date":"2024-11-17T04:47:01","date_gmt":"2024-11-17T04:47:01","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/farefwd.com\/?p=10314"},"modified":"2024-11-17T04:47:11","modified_gmt":"2024-11-17T04:47:11","slug":"does-god-hate-my-dreams","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/farefwd.com\/index.php\/2024\/11\/17\/does-god-hate-my-dreams\/","title":{"rendered":"Does God Hate My Dreams?"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t
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Does God Hate My Dreams?<\/h2>\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t
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A young woman wrestles with the tension between her love of the movies and a conviction that God wants her to do something \u201cbetter\u201d with her life.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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By Claire Nauman<\/em><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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I wrote my first story when I was six years old. My sister and I co-authored it, actually, and since handwriting was still a bit of a stretch for us, we dictated the tale to our father. He patiently typed it out on a high-tech gray box that we\u2019ll generously call a word processor. The story was a retelling of the Snow White fairy tale, but with some key changes: In order to survive in the forest after running away from the evil queen, our Snow White did not require the help of seven male rescuers. Rather, after independently building her own shelter, she lived out her days in the forest in self-sufficient bliss.<\/p>

I wish I could say that from that day forward, I was determined to be a writer. I\u2019d love to recount the charmed story of a child who knew what she wanted to become from an early age and never strayed from her path. But that, dear reader, is not what happened.<\/p><\/div>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t

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\u00a0I figured I was better off safe than sorry, and I abandoned any nascent dreams of being a writer as a career.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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Illustration by Katie Howerton<\/figcaption>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/figure>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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What did happen is, a few years after my debut as a feminist author of reimagined fairy tales, I became a Christian.<\/p>

Like many young Christians, my initial understanding of a life of faith was largely black and white. I understood Christianity as a list of do<\/em>s and don\u2019t<\/em>s. At the same time, I was starting to realize that some of these don\u2019t<\/em>s involved media like movies, books, and music\u2014some things were Christian-approved, others were not. I vividly remember finding out that a friend had decided to scratch a cross into all of her secular music CDs, in an effort to purify her music intake. In my own home I was sheltered too, partly by ideological objections, but mostly by my parents\u2019 total lack of interest in current pop culture. It seemed like living a Christian life involved the shunning of certain narratives. I quickly realized that this could have ramifications for my own creative writing pursuits. Were some stories dangerous? Tempting? Even corrupting?<\/em> I figured I was better off safe than sorry, and I abandoned any nascent dreams of being a writer as a career.<\/p>

I did keep writing, though\u2014I whiled away many hours as a child and adolescent writing stories, just for fun. Along the way, I also fell in love with movies and television. I would read the film reviews in the paper and then ask my mom to rent me the most acclaimed ones when they came out on VHS. I can only assume she trusted me, since she never bothered to look at the ratings and even got me the R-rated ones. As for TV, though I wasn\u2019t allowed to watch everything, I read the TV guide cover to cover every week and planned out my fantasy watching schedule. I decided that writing scripts would be the path for me\u2014if<\/em> I was going to be a writer, which again, I wasn\u2019t. I even made a few short films with my sister and a friend. But the night before a big shoot, our video camera malfunctioned, cutting short our grand plans and leaving pieces of unused set design all over the house to collect dust. For some reason, I let this one roadblock stop me\u2014I\u2019m sure a young Spielberg wouldn\u2019t have, but to my young mind, uncertain if this creative path was really one I was morally allowed to go down, it felt like a sign that I should be spending my time reaching for more appropriate achievements.<\/p>

I still lobbied my parents for years to get a video camera of my own, and it eventually materialized on my 15th<\/sup> birthday. I wish I could say that on that day I finally dropped everything to do what I\u2019d always wanted, but it was too late. I was already halfway through high school and deep in the positive feedback loop of academic effort. Changing course seemed pointless, when not-so-deep-down lurked the fear that my interest in making movies was at best a frivolous waste of time, and at worst actively in conflict with my worldview. Since I\u2019d already stopped considering myself \u201ccreative,\u201d I gravitated toward math and science instead, especially biology. So it\u2019s probably no surprise that I soon decided that I\u2019d be a doctor\u2014the least creative, most obvious choice for someone with my transcript. Nothing controversial about getting good grades. Plus, medicine is a \u201cgood\u201d career that helps people in concrete, measurable ways\u2014the kind of thing a good Christian girl should set her heart on, right?<\/p>

I ended up applying to only two colleges: MIT, the premiere place to study science and technology, and USC (I told myself it was because of their excellent medical school, not at all because of its proximity to Hollywood). I got in to both, but the contest was already decided by my choices up to this point\u2014I was extremely privileged to have both options, and MIT was the better choice for sciences. Thus, my fate was sealed (at least for the next four years).<\/p>

Ah, college. Instead of being a period of exploration like it is for most people, college for me was a matter of survival. I\u2019d selected a school that challenged me beyond my limits, and I struggled to complete the bare minimum of required classes to graduate on time with the major I selected as a freshman: biology. It will come as no surprise, again, that I did not need to take many arts or writing classes to graduate from MIT. The longest paper I wrote in college was only thirteen pages, double-spaced, and it was about nematode genetics. In retrospect, the amount that I struggled might have been a sign that I was on the wrong track, but I was so overwhelmed that I didn\u2019t have the bandwidth to contemplate alternatives. (Still, my long-denied artistic interests somehow managed to occasionally assert themselves\u2014I remember once staying up all night before a test, not to study but to write a story. I dismissed it as simply my way of blowing off steam.)<\/p>

There was only one instance during college when I took the time to seriously doubt the path I was on, and I raised my concerns to my dad. I remember him asking me, \u201cWell, what do you love?\u201d Without hesitation, I said, \u201cMovies.\u201d Not unkindly, he replied, \u201cEveryone loves movies.\u201d He made a good point, but I took it further: This passion doesn\u2019t make me special, so there\u2019s no reason I need to take it seriously. <\/em>I squashed down the thought and got back to organic chemistry.<\/p>

Ultimately, my original plans for medical school were shattered by my hard-won but unimpressive B-average GPA, but college had proven to me that I didn\u2019t like school enough to keep doing it for four more years anyway, so that was for the best. Exhausted from years of sleep deprivation and stress, I was fortunate enough to land a job at a small health-care biotechnology start-up, and I settled in for the long haul, uttering perhaps the most stupid phrase I\u2019ve ever spoken: \u201cI never want to learn anything again.\u201d (I know for a fact I said this, because my friends quote it back to me.) Of course I didn\u2019t really mean it, but hidden in there was a grain of truth. I was tired of challenges, and every time a little voice suggested that maybe I should take on a new one, like finally pursuing my lifelong passion for writing, I hushed it. I wanted to relax for a while.<\/p><\/div>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t

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As I started to fill that free time, I found myself irresistibly attracted to creative outlets.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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Once I\u2019d settled into my new job and fully recovered from college (it took years), I realized I had a luxury I never had when I was frantically studying\u2014free time. As I started to fill that free time, I found myself irresistibly attracted to creative outlets. I didn\u2019t pick up a pen to write anything, as I believed those days were behind me, but I joined an improv troupe; I acted in community theater; I was the first to read a friend\u2019s original play. I gravitated to storytelling like someone trying to stay close to a warm fire. Slowly, the realization dawned: This is what I want to do with my life<\/em>. This is what I have always wanted.<\/em> When I couldn\u2019t deny that any longer, I started to tune back in to my artistic aspirations. I started writing again. And I finally decided that what I wanted<\/em> to do was move to Hollywood and write television and movies.<\/p>

My dream was alive again, but I was still stuck on my original obstacle: Can Christians really do that? Should they?<\/em> I felt that I couldn\u2019t <\/em>just do what I wanted to. It had to be the right<\/em> thing. It had to be Christian-compatible. The doubts swirled in my head. What if I ended up working on something that promoted values I didn\u2019t agree with? And aren\u2019t all Christians called to serve God? Isn\u2019t following your dreams just serving yourself? <\/em>I waffled, and applied to business school. (One thing I didn\u2019t doubt was that as much as I liked my current job, I didn\u2019t want to stay in it forever.)<\/p>

In my time since college, I\u2019d been attending a church regularly, and I was part of a robust community of believers. But I was still so <\/em>uncertain about whether a career in Hollywood could ever be something \u201cgood\u201d Christians do that I was nervous to tell my Christian friends about my Hollywood dreams. When I finally did, I was shocked to find the reactions were warm and encouraging. (Seriously. Shocked.) People even offered practical help, like putting me in touch with friends in the business. I was floored\u2026 had I been wrong? Were Hollywood and Christianity compatible after all?<\/p>

Talking about this with other Christians allowed me, for the first time, to consider that maybe my creative writing passion was a seed planted by God, and if it had survived this long without any nurturing from me, it must be pretty resilient. If indeed God doesn\u2019t make mistakes, maybe my love for writing and movies wasn\u2019t a mistake either. God makes each of us an individual, and that includes our dreams. Besides, who was I to limit what God might do with my life? I realized that my conviction that God could only use me to do things that I considered practically \u201cgood,\u201d like healing people physically, was ultimately a childish misunderstanding of what the God who created sunsets and flowers and novelists and painters and movie directors considered \u201cgood.\u201d With that, I was off to the races. I quit my job, packed up my car, and drove clean across the country, all the way to sunny L.A.<\/p><\/div>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t

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In my most cynical moments, being Christian never felt like much of an asset to me, neither in the world of science nor in Hollywood.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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When I arrived in L.A., things went surprisingly well, at least at first. (Ironically, I got my first Hollywood job in part because of my science knowledge, after chatting with my interviewer about the cancer treatments that had worked best for her parents.) Distracted by my new endeavors, I quickly forgot some important things I\u2019d left behind. I didn\u2019t set about recreating a Christian community like the one that had originally given me the confidence to chase my dreams. It was easy to convince myself that I was too busy or too tired to find a church. I dabbled, but I didn\u2019t commit.<\/p>

So I was alone, without a faith community, for a long time. It was isolating and lonely, and it took a toll. But at the same time, I was making progress on my career. And I was doing it all on my own, I told myself. I eventually joined a new church, but to be honest, my faith was really just along for the ride. In my most cynical moments, being Christian never felt like much of an asset to me, neither in the world of science nor in Hollywood. It just made me feel like an outsider, like if I found some way to shed it, everything would be easier. But somehow, I found that I couldn\u2019t turn my back on it all the way.<\/p><\/div>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t

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If I could go back and talk to the little girl I once was, I\u2019d definitely tell her that God wouldn\u2019t give her a dream that he hated.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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Illustration by Katie Howerton<\/figcaption>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/figure>\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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Last fall, I thought I had a shot at a really great job. But I didn\u2019t get it.<\/p>

I don\u2019t want to say it would have been my \u201cbig break\u201d\u2014rarely is there one such event in a person\u2019s career, even in this industry. (For most, breaking into Hollywood is like tackling the job of eating a wall. It\u2019s an impossible task and there\u2019s no obvious strategy\u2014you just have to start somewhere and keep patiently gnawing.) But this job would have been a major step in the right direction. I was deeply disappointed, and the loss threw me into doubt. What could I rely on if not myself? I couldn\u2019t help but wonder, Did I make a mistake coming here?<\/em> Should I have left my writing dreams to wither on the vine? It seems like they might be headed that way regardless.<\/em><\/p>

Still reeling a few months later, I attended a panel discussion at my church featuring a number of Christians who have successful Hollywood careers. They all seemed to have a confidence in their place in Hollywood that I couldn\u2019t imagine. Afterwards, I wondered if I would ever feel that certainty, that peace with my chosen path. As the small chapel cleared, a nearby stranger and I were the only people left sitting in the empty pews. We started talking, and prompted by I\u2019m not sure what, I shared my doubts with this person. As I spoke, I started to cry. It was mortifying\u2014anyone who knows me knows I\u2019m not one for public displays of emotion. Since this gentleman didn\u2019t know me at all, and there was nothing obvious or practical to be done, he kindly asked if he could pray for me. I felt comforted and valued in a way I hadn\u2019t in a long time. And in that moment, I realized that instead of treating my faith like a liability that either filled me with doubt or held me back, it could instead be my ultimate strength and comfort in times of uncertainty.<\/p>

What I\u2019m finding, in fact, is that faith is absolutely indispensable to a life in a risky industry like the arts. The ups and downs are tough to weather without supernatural support. I realized that support from my religious faith and community had been there all along, but I\u2019d been ignoring it instead of finding peace and comfort there. It turns out that I had better tools for finding hope in the midst of failure than I\u2019d ever realized. I\u2019d been quashing this infinite source of comfort and strength for a long time, just like I\u2019d quashed my love for writing stories for so long. If God really did make me with this passion and dream, if writing for Hollywood really is my vocation, then why would he turn his back on me once I finally took the leap?\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>

I am learning, too, that when my strongest faith is not in myself, but in a higher power, it can do two things. First, it reminds me that any success I have achieved is a blessing\u2014so it keeps me humble. Second, it tells me that my value as a human being does not come from my achievements (or from having the \u201cright\u201d dreams), but is a permanent quality bestowed by God, my creator. Instead of deriving my self-worth or sense of purpose from getting the next job, climbing the next rung of a professional ladder, or any other accomplishment\u2014jobs are canceled, ladders break, I of all people will let myself down\u2014I can rest my hope in something constant and all-encompassing. I will certainly experience more failures and more challenges and more doubts. But I\u2019m not alone, and I can find peace in that.<\/p>

If I could go back and talk to the little girl I once was, I\u2019d definitely tell her that God wouldn\u2019t give her a dream that he hated. That a life of faith is so much less the do<\/em>s and don\u2019t<\/em>s she thought it was than it is love for the world, and ourselves, and the people all around us. That the God who made people made them long to create art, and participate in beauty, and tell stories about the wonderful and terrible ways the world can be. And in fact, if any young Christian comes along and asks me, \u201cHow can you square your Hollywood career with your Christian faith?\u201d I\u2019ll know just what story to tell them. Mine.<\/p><\/div>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t

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\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t
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Claire Nauman<\/strong> is a television writer living in Los Angeles. She\u2019s written episodes of Disney Channel\u2019s Bunk\u2019d<\/em> and is a proud member of the Writers Guild of America.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

A young woman wrestles with the tension between her love of the movies and a conviction that God wants her to do something \u201cbetter\u201d with her life. 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