Into the Fire

This post begins with a heartfelt disclaimer and a request for not being misunderstood. Trying to articulate my feelings on this subject of excellence in writing poses questions which can lead to discussions which can lead to actual arguments. So to avoid those, I will concede these particular thoughts belong to me. They’re not a definitive commentary on the business or art of writing. Whether I’m right or wrong in my feelings and opinion is irrelevant because it has no merit to those who will disagree, and in fact if I’m “wrong” in feeling this way, I’m the only one who will “suffer” the consequences.

Excellence to me means something is near perfect. I confess I apply the term to some blog posts, some comments, and miscellaneous other written words. I use it in these instances because the person who wrote the post, or noted a sterling quotation, or captured the essence of meaning in a response to a post, tapped into the element of excellence. Are any of these examples indicative of perfection? Not to me.

I’m of the opinion that the only perfection exists in God. This earth is cursed and fallen. Our bodies function with a sin nature. Our only redemption comes from Jesus Christ and we are transformed by the indwelling Holy Spirit. Without Him we are driven by sin.

That the Lord allows His people a portion of His creativity is a gift of such magnitude, there is no taking credit for it. Being gifted to write implies so many things to different ones and manages to challenge all kinds of writers to debate whether it’s a gift, a talent, a calling, or a compulsion—or all of the aforementioned.

The discussion of excellence soon follows with all kinds of declarations about giving our best for the King of Kings. And here’s where it can get dicey to those who pursue the craft with an academic drive to excel, to always improve, to write the best words on the page no matter how long it takes, because, after all, this is done in service to the King of the Universe. Rightly so. It truly is. And nothing less than excellence will do. Nothing less will be worthy. And this is where I stumble.

In writing it can be clear when it is done poorly due to the lack of skills in using our language. There are certain rules which indicate an individual has learned to use the proper grammar and there are ways to recognize when they’ve chosen to carefully and cleverly circumvent those rules to produce something creative. When writing veers off to story, the creativity is unleashed and variety surfaces in endless forms. What is hailed as brilliant can be trashed as inept. It happens repeatedly. Opinions given by learned craftsmen and readers of pulp fiction. Some authors gave their best and others simply wrote a story. Publishers determined what constituted “worthy” of publication, and the critics reacted to their choices.

Perhaps it’s a matter of semantics for me. I think excellence is as impossible as perfection. I can only give my best, work hard to create something that will please the Lord and serve His purpose. As long as I don’t settle for mediocrity in my effort, then I’m doing what I can do. Is it enough? It won’t be for some. They’ll hate what I wrote, pan it, suggest I should take up knitting since writing couldn’t possibly be what I was designed to do. Others will like it, write that it moved them, and say nice things about how they felt like they knew my characters personally. Or I hope they will.

I’ve read some mighty fine novels written by authors who pursue “excellence”. If you pinned me to the ground and required me to name three or four novels deserving of the term “excellent” or else—I could probably do it. But I know for a fact that others would disagree. I can give you reasons why I don’t think some of the novels you might pick don’t merit the term, but to what end?

Excellence is a whim. It’s unattainable on this earth. It’s noble to try as long as that effort is done under the Lord’s supervision. Apart from Him, none of us can write a darn word. So any “excellence” achieved all belongs to Him shining forth through His creation with His creation. Sometimes, I think we think it all depends on us—that if we work hard enough, we’ll produce that excellent thing. He appreciates the pure in heart who work to bestow the most excellent gifts at His feet, but it doesn’t come from human hearts—it comes from holy hands: His.

My opinion, friends. My opinion.

Father, I would love to give you an excellent gift, but you own the gifts. I give you my best but, honestly, probably not all the time in everything I do. But you know that. You know my human heart and the battle that rages for its allegiance. I love you, Lord. I want to honor you with whatever you’ve given to me. Help me to do that. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.