Good articles.

This is a story I just read on Relevant Magazine's website. You should read it now. It's short.

I was at work when I read this today, but after the first paragraph, I couldn't stop. The writing was so beautiful, it was as if my eyes were compelled to keep moving down the page.

I sometimes don't know what to think when I read articles like this - so well written and powerful. My first thought was for this man who the author met: how tragic of a story his must be. My second thought was for myself: could I ever respond as elegantly as the author did? Could I, in that moment, love this man? Buying him the diapers would be easy. But would I pray with him? Or would I be scared of... whatever. Embarrassment. Harming the gospel through reckless words. Awkward bumbling.

May God continue to be gracious with me as I rely more on his grace...

Summer.

Naturally, my last post indicating that I'd post more was a complete fabrication. Summer has been busier than I expected, oddly enough.

Here are some things that I've learned:

1. Don't stress out so much when you don't have a job. I was asked to do some temporary(ish) work at my school to help keep afloat. It was great. It got me up in the morning, gave me money, and I still had time for youth ministry. I ended up being offered the full time job that started a few weeks ago. For all my early summer worrying about having a job, God knew that I would have one. Instead of worrying, being irritable, and panicking every few minutes, I need to trust God and know that I'll be okay.
2. I am capable of sitting down and re-setting a vision for my life. I've set goals, made a plan, and, so far, the plan is working(ish).
3. I still love theatre. I love the act of creating a character, of burying myself beneath someone else for a short time. In that, I am thankful to honor my God.
4. God is good. I had numerous conversations over the summer with people who are in a doubt-y place in their faith. What struck me is that we were still talking about it. If I really wanted to leave the faith, something kept bringing me back. God keeps drawing us to himself, even when it seems like he may not even exist. And the fact that he draws us to himself means that he is good.

So far, the fall has been thus:

1. Wake up.
2. Go to work.
3. Eat dinner from 6:00 to 7:00.
4. Go to rehearsal until 10:30.
5. Go home and sleep.
6. Repeat.

As awful as it sounds (I literally have 10 - 12 free hours a week.), it has been fantastic. I have found so much life in moving, keeping productive, and being creative. I have the increasing sense that I need to look forward - to keep writing, designing, learning, and making myself a better possible employee.

So, hopefully, fall will be full of that.

Hello world (again).

Dear Blogosphere,

It's been a long time, hasn't it? How have you been? I've been good. Pretty busy, but good. In fact, far too busy-feeling for a guy who is, technically, unemployed. What's the deal with that, Blogosphere?

Anyway, just thought I'd drop a line and see how you're doing. I'm hoping we can hang out a little more in the coming weeks and months. I've been doing a little bit of studying that bears some sharing, some games I've been playing, and I do have that 250 words a day to write... Suffice to say, Blogosphere, I'm really bad at the whole Web 2.0, social networking, interactive content thing. Although our friend Facebook has been less neglected than you have been, I haven't even kept up with that! And don't get me started about The Twitter.

So here's to a renewed relationship (hopefully),

~Kemp

Executive Series Luncheon.

I was asked to give a three minute speech at an event we have at Cornerstone called the Executive Series Luncheon. They invite a bunch of local business owners to CU to have lunch and hear another executive speak on some topic or another. This time, they wanted to hear a student's voice as well. They were pretty strict on the three minute thing, though, so I had to write it out. Here's what I wrote/spoke (Sorry the formatting is a little funny...):

It’s a privilege to be representing the students of Cornerstone University and welcome you to our campus. I was asked to share some thoughts, but I only have 3 minutes, so it’ll just have to be one: sort of an intersection between the tools Cornerstone has given me and what God has been working in me lately. I hope it will be encouraging to you.

To be honest, I feel slightly out of place here. I am not a business man, but a story teller. My hope is to one day become a writer for video games. Just this past week, I was in San Francisco for the Game Developer’s Conference. Over 17,000 members of the video game community gathered to sharpen each other and improve our industry.

One of the topics that comes up over and over again at these conferences is the question, “Can video games be art?” Often, this comes to a false dichotomy between designers – the people that make the systems – and writers.

Designers want a completely open space for players to explore. They take pride in giving players ultimate choice.

Writers want to craft a perfectly structured story for players to experience. They want every interaction, every choice to perfectly fall in line with their beautiful thematic argument.

You can imagine, then, that there is some conflict in this process.

As a hopeful writer, I have naturally fallen on the side of structure. I have often compared game design to being god – not in a sacrilegious way, of course. We create this world, populate it with characters, and design a perfect way for them to go through it (the story).

Designers, kind of like the serpent, want to give the players ultimate choice. To let the players do what they want.

Do what they want? You mean allow them to rebel against my beautifully sculpted creation and my design for what they should do?

Yes.

Sounds familiar, right? I viewed the task of the writer to be similar to the task of our God: to slowly and gently lead player from their meaningless, headstrong ways back into the story I had designed for them.

One of the writers at one of the sessions humbled me, though: It isn’t about me.

It isn’t about the designers. It isn’t about the animators or the writers or the programmers. It is about the player. Video games are about giving the player a great experience, not about the messages that a writer or a designer is trying to propagate.

When we have artistic disputes, the only question we should be asking is “Which choice would make a better player experience? Which choice would serve the player best?” It cannot be a matter of what I want or what is easiest for the programmers. Ego cannot factor into our design decisions at all. Only the other. Nothing but serving the player.

And isn’t this what Jesus asks of us? To love our neighbor as ourselves. To serve each other.

I was ashamed. I went to the gardens above the conference center and journaled for 15 minutes. How dare I, as a Christian, compare my role in the creative process to God! And here was this writer – who was not a Christian – reminding me that my job is to serve. Even at the expense of my agenda.

I think businesses that are a little less artistic in nature get service more than any artist ever will. No matter what your job is in the company, ultimately the company exists to serve someone. The ego of an artist – with our themes, characters, and messages – falls before the customer. “The customer is always right.”

As I continue to reshape my theology of writing, if you will, I wanted to encourage all of you to continue loving people more than your agenda. May you always remember that your jobs are not about the messages that you send or the profit you earn. Your job is to love and to serve. I pray that you continue to serve Jesus in every interaction with client and customer, that you would always think first of the other.

With that, join me in welcoming Mr. Bob Israels.

Enter San Francisco.

I arrived safely in San Francisco, thankfully. Not that there were any problems - or even near-problems - I'm just thankful that there were no hitches.

I landed, got my enormous backpack, and hoofed it out of the airport to the nearest BART station. It took me several minutes just to figure it out. It's not quite as simple as Manhattan's subway system. Or maybe it's not as complex... Either way, I figured it out and got on the train.

When I left the station at Powell St, though, I was impressed by the view. It literally felt like a video game. Crowds of people everywhere who probably wouldn't talk to me if I talked to them... Huge buildings extending up to the sky... Green gardens and bright sunshine... Homeless guys... Pretty much picture perfect.

If I had gotten my new camera before I left, I definitely would have taken a picture.

It also felt vaguely Disney-like. All these people walking around (the cities I normally roam don't have this many people about), the good weather, the variety of smells and sounds... It's quite remarkable.

I'm off to check out the conference space and see if they need a hand. The hotel room isn't ready yet anyway.