Tales of a Secret Rockstar

I had a great idea for my first book last night. I'm excited. Here's how it happened:

Okay, so in order to tell this story I first have to admit that I rented "Raising Helen" yesterday. I rented a couple of movies. I watched "Jersey Girl" with my friend Moey. As I picked up "Raising Helen", I thought to myself, "My parents will like this I think. Maybe they'll watch it with me." I think deep down I knew that I would end up watching it at about 12:30 am by myself. And really, that didn't bother me, for two reasons:

1. I am a huge sucker for touching/romantic movies. I actually want to see "Shall we Dance." I want to see that movie. It's crazy.
2. I think Kate Hudson is absolutely beautiful. Seriously, she is georgeous. Many would disagree with me here. But the thing is, at least on a physical appearance level, she fits just about the exact stereotype of what I seem to be drawn to. Short, curly hair, big eyes, curvy. Man, she's so cute.

So as I watched this movie, I noticed that John Corbett just seemed rather uncomfortable in his role as Pastor Dan. (Pastor Dan is another reason I love that movie. Pastor Dan gets to kiss Kate Hudson. My name is Dan, and I was trained to be a pastor. I wonder . . .) And I thought to myself, "This guy obviously did not grow up in church." A rather simple observation, but the thought stuck with me. It made me think about my life, and the lives of people like myself, who have grown up in the church. I've heard the statistics many times, how church attendance among people my age takes this sharp drop. How we disappear from the face of the planet. But somehow, I'm a boomerang kid. I missed the exodus. My journey has been, and still is, a return trip. I really can't find a good analogy here, but here's my best shot (This probably won't be in my book). Actually, cancel that. No illustration. Deal with it . . .
Anyways, I feel like my generation is so disenchanted with church because it asked us to be people we were not meant to be. It asked us, in many cases, to believe things that not only defied logic, but defied obvious reality. And it asked us to disengage our minds. Here's what I've been discovering though. I've come to realize that, in my case, many of those that hurt me were indeed trying to help me. I have written about this before. I don't know why I wrote it now, except that it's helped me in the healing process. Because ultimately church is about community. A vibrant and caring community. And my generation has so much to say about community. And if we disengage, if we refuse to bring our perspective to the table, we all lose. The church loses the "relevance" it so desperately seeks. And we lose the community of faith that we can't live without.

I don't really know if any of that has made sense. That's okay though, because it's my book idea anyways. As long as I understand it. I want it to do a few things. First, deal with the identity and guilt issues church kids suffer from. I want it to bring freedom. Second, to challenge them to go back. To find a place to call home and engage. Not out of bitterness, but out of love. And plain and simple need. Third, to call the church at large back to the main point of church. Gracious community. Boundless love. Unflappable joy. Those are things that I think could, and should, define church people. They shouldn't be church people, they should be God's people. Not living a fake joy or a fake love to keep everyone happy. Living from a deep relationship with God and others. That excites me.
I'm not there yet.
I think I'm headed for a crisis of faith.
I need it.

P.S. I'm not sure if the world needs another Christian book. Feedback would be welcome here.