Into the Fire

I don’t do it well—or at all. It’s either I give into something because I think it’s just as good or better, or I step aside and give way. Reaching an agreement for the sake of agreeing makes no sense to me. Let’s face facts: truth and lies exist and good and evil don’t mix.

You will not coerce me into compromise. You might get your way, but it won’t be with my agreement. I’ll bow out. I’ll step aside. I’ll disappear. If I think something is off, wrong, or I just don’t like it: I’m not going to go along with it.

You might think that makes it tough in the marriage department, but in fact it doesn’t. Somehow my husband and I have come to respect each other’s particular strengths and opinions. We disagree about certain decisions. If I’m convinced he understands why I don’t agree with something, and he still wants to proceed, it’s his call. He’s right more often than he’s wrong, but that comes from having made some bad decisions in the past. Believe me, I’ve certainly made my share.

I refer to it as “the prophet mentality”. No compromise. Often reasoning takes on this black and white clarity. Doesn’t mean it’s all right or all wrong. It means it seems like it is. I do recognize when the Lord steps in and gives direction. If you think I’m stubborn without it, you can’t match the stubbornness with the conviction that the Lord directed an act or decision.

Many years ago when our local racetrack closed, my husband announced that he would be traveling to a different city on the other side of the state to race for that season. He didn’t discuss it with me—probably because he knew I wouldn’t be happy about it. I’d be here. He’d be there. Huh-uh. Not happy. So. I’ll fix him. I’ll pray about it. I told the Lord, “One of us is wrong, Lord.” And the Lord replied, “Yes. And it’s you.” I’m sure my prayerful mouth dropped open visibly. But that was that. My husband spent the summer racing, home on the off days. That was the summer I began my first novel. And many other positive things took place which gave the clarity I lacked when I objected to his plans. It wasn’t a compromise. I didn’t like the decision, and I would’ve changed it if I could’ve. It would have been my loss.

I’m afraid I’m like that with my writing too. It’s gotta make sense to me. It’s gotta not challenge my belief system, my creative outlook, and/or my objective. You all know I’m a rule-breaker. Some of the fanaticism that goes into the writing game and its supposed “best” ways to create a decent piece of literature makes me conscious of how desperately we seek this uniformity to validate our opinions and tastes. Doesn’t work for me. No compromise.

Writing deserves the flair and imagination of creativity. Yes, some things don’t work. A writer should know the craft, all of it. But then turn him loose. Let him create what he wants. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to. And if no one likes it but the writer himself, he’ll be his own number one fan. So what? His objective might not be yours.

There’s a lot to be said for no compromise . . .

And concerning you, Jesus, there’s no compromise. I love you, Lord.