Into the Fire

There is a point where a person can only speak for himself, you know? And, although whatever he has to say will not be unique, it might not be shared by huge amounts of people–at least in his sphere of influence (or lack thereof). Okay, enough generalities.

All my life I have written and read, loved horses, and desired to watch, write, and/or do drama. Literally. All my life. As far back as I can remember. I used to produce “recitals” in my back yard with the neighborhood kids. Direct them. I used to gather totally uninterested friends around and teach them what I knew about horses. All the information this city girl had gathered from books I wanted to pass on to these poor friends because it was my passion to know everything there was to know about horses and share it.

In the pre/during/post college days I wrote volumes of poetry. When I met the Lord I threw away one of those antique brown crinkled hard leather kind of zippered notebooks which contained more sheets of paper with handwritten poems than I think I could count, many of them written during my adventurous 3 month trip to Europe at the age of 20. I remember the very dumpster I deposited those years of work in. I saved maybe three or four written to my husband during the tumultuous years before we were married.

There is a point to this post, believe it or not, but you have to go back to November 6th, 2004 on Mick Silva’s blog, Your Writers Group. It’s entitled: Revolution:Light Quest. Just the final two paragraphs.

Here’s my point. I believe I could not have written the nearly seven novels that I’ve authored if I was not inspired to write them by the Holy Spirit. Because I am not that creative, not that intelligent, not that witty or clever, and I’m basically just NOT . . . When I’m writing, I become the reader. When I become the reader, I want to read a book like watching a movie. I want to see it all in my mind’s eye. Now I’ve read criticism of that very thing. “If I want to see a movie, I’ll go to the theatre or watch a DVD.” Alright. But when I read a book, I want to “see” a movie. That’s how I write. Or think I write. Or want to write. And the Holy Spirit gives me intricate details about characters, colors, places, thoughts, and, yes, even prayers.

Please don’t think because of that claim I assume everyone should or will like my writing. I know they won’t. My writing, as I’ve stated innumerable times, is a throwback to a time when ordinary life is captured between the pages, where the only extraordinary thing that happens is when God intervenes in multiple ways in the lives of characters to confound, deliver, frustrate, compell, convict, or whatever He chooses to do in the confines of the story. And, well, no, it doesn’t always happen in the first 20 pages, let alone the first 5 pages. And there is only one thing I can promise to readers if they have the endurance to get through one of my novels: you will know the characters as if they are your own family, friends, or enemies (or maybe even you) when you’re done. So far, that claim is not enough for any professional to take me on as a client. I have the favor of one successful (male) author who has read The Famous One and enjoyed it and repeatedly encourages me.

As a reader and a writer, I have to like my work. I am always amazed and wonderfully surprised at how the Lord develops the stories. Sometimes I’m even flabbergasted. Is that to say that all my writing is technically “perfect”, excellently crafted, perfect in form? No. No. No. But each one is the story that God wanted me to write–that much I know. That much I am so incredibly thankful for and hold in great regard. It’s a thrill, I can tell you that.

There is an audience for my work, but whether or not that translates into book contracts and marketing, and all the rest of the hoopla, I do not know. Only God knows. And He has told me, well, actually He has asked me if I thought He would bring me this far just to let me down. Maybe I’ve come far enough to know whatever He has for me will not let me down. HE is the one who matters. After all, it’s all work done in obedience to Him and to honor Him.

You might be wondering what that old post by Mick Silva has to do with all of this, but those two last paragraphs are what gave me the impetus to write this one.

Dear God, you know my every need, my every desire, my multiple faults and failures, and yet you are always there for me, in all ways. Man, if ever words come up short, it’s in those times when I feel so small. Thank you, Jesus, for your life given for me. I will never truly understand how or why, but I have glimpses . . . I love you, Lord. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.