All writers create stories from three elements:
1. What we know and experience.
2. What we research and learn.
3. A most special ingredient: our imagination.
Stories that perfect this mixture (and toss in a few other key ingredients) can be quite delicious.
Whether we set our stories in the real-world, or in fantastical lands bearing little resemblance to this present age, all great stories simmer with an aura of truth which allows them to feel like they could actually happen. Why is it then, that when real-life gets crazy and downright implausible, we say it feels like we’re living in a story?
Perhaps we don’t believe the plots of our stories could actually happen to us. That those scenes and scenarios are reserved for our characters to stare-down and overcome. We can learn something from the heroes and villains who tangle for space in our story-telling minds.
That’s what the last couple of months felt like to me, anyway.
I’m writing this post because all writers go through dry bouts.
The prologue of this tale is a story for another time, but suffice to say I spent a year in graduate school, once upon a time, before the Lord closed that door. I thought the gate was sealed, locked, bolted, and everything else one does to ensure admittance does not happen. The Lord had other plans (as He often does).
And so, in May, I returned to graduate school.
While the first few classes have gone fairly well thus far, a side-effect is that creative-writing time (including this blog) has dwindled. Oh how I’ve bemoaned the fact that my “fun” writing had broken free, and is galloping down the highway with little regard to my oh, so-loving care. I’m not pleased to say it, but I had a little pity-party, complete with a cake (ok, maybe there weren’t any sweets, but when your wife is a baker, it doesn’t hurt to ask).
I complained that I didn’t have time to write, that my novel would never get done, that all the good ideas would escape long before grad school was behind me, that the novel needed to get finished in order for me to make a difference, etc…..
Then, the Lord did something that He is (rightly) so-apt to do. He put me in my place.
When all the guests from my figurative party had gone home, the Lord reminded me of such a great, such a simple truth: He is sovereign. I am not.
Short-version: what this practically meant is that if God tells me to write, then I should write. If He tells me to stop, pause, or slow-down, then I need to do so. The Lord in His sovereignty doesn’t need me to finish a book. Rather, the most important act of obedience is the one that the Lord lays in front of us right now. The results are in His hands.
Ok, time to elaborate…two things:
Our responsibility is to be obedient to the Lord – and this means sitting down, putting that pen to paper, and for goodness-sakes writing.
Side-note: of course, this doesn’t just apply to writing and storytelling. Our entire life should reflect Christ, and while we will never be able to fully achieve perfect obedience until we enter His Kingdom, our goal should be to grow so close to our Savior, that obedience becomes as natural as breathing. Something we do without thinking.
So, how does this translate to obedience in writing and storytelling? Simple (well, few things are simple, but you get the idea):
- If the Lord has rooted an unquenchable story in your soul, and
- He has dropped the checkered flag on that story’s race-track, then you’d better be wholeheartedly pursuing this story.
That’s it.
“Ryan, that’s totally not it. Writing is hard. It’s time-consuming. I don’t have the chops for it yet. At least not to make my stories perfect.”
I hear you. Seriously. You, me, and most other writers say as much nearly every day. Without letting ourselves in-on our own dirty little secret, we’ve convinced ourselves that we’ll absolutely write as soon as we have a solid couple of uninterrupted hours, or as soon as we’ve finished that 14th book on story structure, or as soon as we captured that wiggly, elusive plot and told it who’s boss.
But aren’t those really just excuses? Sure, there is truth to some of these statements, but truth is often meant to re-direct and guide to a better way of living and acting. For example, the Lord says, “For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God”. True? Absolutely. But instead of this truth being a cause for despair, God uses this truth to show us that there is nothing we can do to save ourselves. From there, we are able to understand that since we can’t save ourselves, it’s up to Someone else to do what we can’t. We use the truth to learn our next steps.
Similarly, there are many truths about writing that are difficult to swallow. Even if you adore writing, there are days (more often than not, for many), where writing is as pleasant as belly-flopping into the arctic sea.
We know that writing is enjoyable, but when the words are running around our brain, taunting and eluding us, this is infuriating. If this were a tragedy (or sitcom), writing would only unleash its challenging side when we’ve finally cleared our schedule and plopped down to furiously scrawl or type away. Wait a minute…this sounds familiar…
If we wait until it’s easy to write, we’ll almost never write.
On that note, I’ll be honest. I don’t want to be writing this blog post right now. For various reasons, this post has been a difficult one to start, but the more I put it off (going on a month now), the harder it gets to take the plunge into that Arctic Sea. The longer we stay away from writing (or again, anything else the Lord directs us to do), the more difficult it is to convince ourselves to just write (or just be obedient). But once we begin, we usually whack ourselves over the head for taking so long to just get started.
That’s what I’m doing right now. I’m now on day two of writing this post, and since I gave myself a talking to and started, the process since has become so much more enjoyable, because I obeyed and started writing. In light of eternity, it doesn’t matter that I’m tired, or that I don’t think I have time. If this is important and directed by the Lord, He will give the strength that’s needed, even if it’s exhausting. Writing doesn’t (and shouldn’t) need to be easy, and our responsibility to write even when we’re pounding our head against the page.
Our responsibility is to cast away any lies we’re believing (“this story isn’t worth telling”), and ensure we’re handling truth accurately (“yes, writing can be difficult at times, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to shy away from hard things”). Since the Lord is gracious enough to allow us to participate in the furthering of His Kingdom, He will provide grace and strength through every moment, especially the challenging ones. Our role is to be obedient even when we don’t think we’ve “got it”.
“…in Your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there were none of them” – Psalm 139:16
Before the creation of the world, God knew the stories He was going to bury deep within your heart. And He also knew the challenging moments that we would face in unleashing these stories. If He is faithful enough to know our every day, and to save us, is He not also faithful enough to guide us through the tasks He provides?
So, when God graciously gives us the ability to write, let’s write! Even when it’s difficult. Even when we don’t want to. Our responsibility as a writer is simply to write. The results will come later, and are in our Lord’s hands.
There’s another part to this, which we’ll examine soon. Thanks for reading, and be sure to comment below with the ways the Lord is teaching you responsibility in writing.
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