No Shadow of Turning

photo credit Tiffany Nuessle 2024

‘But when they came to the edge of the camp of the Syrians, behold, there was no one there. For the LORD had made the army of the Syrians hear the sound of chariots and of horses, the sound of a great army…so they fled away in the twilight and abandoned their tents, their horses and their donkeys…’ – 2 Kings 7

Had dinner with a dear friend Monday and was telling him Phil Vischer’s new philosophy (see previous blog post), about ‘If God isn’t leading the way, the runners are headed off a cliff’ as it were, and he had a challenge for that. “I don’t believe,” he said, “God has everything worked out, so we’re just supposed to sit around and do nothing.”

I don’t believe that either. One of the pervasive teachings, the Bible is shot through with it, is the principle of sowing and reaping.

I can’t do a blessed thing to make a seed grow. I can facilitate the process what with fertilization and watering and so forth but no amount of effort on my part will turn seed into plant; that’s in God’s hands.

All the same, if in the entire history of this troubled world a seed sprouted that wasn’t planted, I ain’t heard tell of it.

He has the Lion’s share of the effort but if I do nothing, nothing will happen.

So to those, and they are many, who are sitting around praying for a miracle, hoping to win the lottery or be handed a promotion or find a magic lamp to rub and are not pursuing God, not delighting themselves in the Lord, quoting “God works all things together for good” without including “for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose”… (Romans 8)

…yeah, you might be in one of those parked cars God’s not gonna move.

Please note I say ‘not gonna’, not ‘can’t’; plenty of evidence that when needed He is perfectly able to rattle a person’s cage, get their attention.

But even so God didn’t make Jonah go to Nineveh. He would have let the prophet drown if he so chose. He warned Nebuchadnezzar what was coming if he didn’t get his act together. Saul and David both had opportunities to repent when they screwed up; I submit one of the enormous differences between the two was how they responded when confronted.

Anyway—for those content to sit in the stands, you can probably stay there. Love isn’t love without a choice and He always lets us choose.

But nobody scores points that isn’t in the game. All I’m saying.

Meanwhile as thoroughly stated I’m waiting for my chance to jump back in, and even as I read ‘Me, Myself and Bob’ (last reference, I promise, maybe) about all the things Phil Vischer did to get VeggieTales off the ground, before I reached the part about how far out ahead of God he got and how bad a move that was, I remembered.

How in 2007 and 2009 and 2011 when I sent sample DVDs to every dance company in/around the greater Denver area in order to encourage them to hire my videography company. Actions which every time bore fruit; it was a good plan and my business grew.

That was doing something.

Which right now I’m…not.

Huh.

I mean—I don’t want to get out ahead of God but just the same, I mean, I’m not doing anything.

‘Could I be ruining everything?’ that little voice inside me often wonders.

One of the things God especially through regular Scripture study reminds me of is His faithfulness. ‘Great is Thy Faithfulness’ is possibly my favorite hymn and recently as I was meditating on the Fruits of the Spirit from over in Galatians, one of which is of course faithfulness, the Holy Spirit nudged me behind the ear like He does.

“Paul said you flawed vessels should expect faithfulness to result from your relationship with Me—how much more should I, who is without flaw, be expected to act faithfully?”

Couldn’t even write that sentence without tearing up. As I do every time I’m reminded how much I’m loved.

If my kid, the one in that picture up there, pushes me away, gonna put his shoes on himself and insists that he’s got them on the correct way when he totally doesn’t, yells at me if I try to show him…he’s made his choice and can experience the resulting pinched feet if he refuses to listen. I’m willing to leave him to his results.

But if that same child asks if he’s getting it right and he’s not and I don’t say anything…

I’d be a terrible father.

God is not a terrible father.

Am I missing something crucial? Possibly. It’s always on the table; I’ve never done anything perfectly, what are the odds I’d start now?

But He is faithful and I am 100% submitted to His plan and constantly in Receiving Mode, willing at any time to hear from Him and regularly checking in.

If I’m missing something crucial He’ll tell me.

Going back to that 2007/2009/2011 example: I absolutely did reach out to dance companies, promoting the video business, getting out there…

after God revealed that there was business to be had in filming dance recitals by virtue of the dance company my sister was with coming to me, asking if I’d film for them. Same goes for elementary/middle/high schools; I pitched them too, with some success, after the first elementary school fell right the heck into my lap.

All the effort I went to before those moments, pitching real-estate companies and leaving flyers on local doors and filming on spec at a motorcycle shop, spent no little time putting a 20-minute pitch together for them to play on the monitors they already had in the store which surely they would buy from me…

…I accomplished nothing. Gained a little experience, lost time and money so in the end it was a wash.

Everything I did in my own strength did nothing but frustrate me.

Then the first elementary school and the first dance company came to me.

Am I saying the writing success is gonna come to me?

No idea.

It’s not my call.

But if the people on the sidelines can’t score points in the game, neither can any of the players before the game starts. During halftime.

Don’t remember the details but had a book on Dumb Sports Moments as a kid; there was a game once, might have been NFL, where the star linebacker made a fantastic flying tackle to save the other team getting a touchdown.

Only problem being that his team’s offense was currently on the field; he jumped up from the bench, ran out on the field to do so.

Still remember the storyteller describing this guy, after he realized what he’d done, silently walking back to the bench, sitting down and putting his head in his hands.

Can spend all the time/effort/energy I want getting out there but if the game ain’t started yet (three months til football!) the points don’t count. Used a drag-race analogy last week; any street-racer will tell you if you jump before the flag drops, you lost.

This is encouraging because I learned this week that Disney is looking for folks.

Apparently they’ve done this every year for decades; put out the word for aspiring screenwriters (of which I am definitely one) who have at least two scripts (two? I gots six) to apply for…unsure of the specifics, fellowship? Internship? I didn’t read too closely.

Because, thing is, setting aside their stated goal of diversity and my being a Christian, married, middle-aged white guy probably not being high on that list…while there’s nothing stopping me from putting in an application, I just, well…

I don’t want to.

No, really. I’m not saying I’m of two minds about it, or I feel a tug in my Spirit but fear in my Soul, I really truly have zero desire to jump into that particular pool.

Much like how yet another week on I’m still not writing, because He hasn’t instructed me to and I still have zero desire for any particular project, He hasn’t spurred me toward this opportunity and I have zero desire to even go ask if He would be okay with it if I did.

Could I be missing something?

Absolutely.

Is He faithful to smack me upside the head if so?

He certainly has been in the past. No reason to think that’s changed.

I’m not saying I expect the breakout opportunity to come to me, although that’s exactly what has happened every time before—God can do this however He wants.

But regardless of how good a chance might seem, if there’s no desire in my Spirit to pursue it and He hasn’t spoken…it’s not for me.

And one way among many I’m certain of this is the peace.

I still, unexpectedly, have complete peace about not writing, a month into doing so.

I also have complete peace about this. At any point if God wants to redirect me I’m redirectable; I long for His word more than silver or gold. Truly, madly, deeply do.

But as I sit here not pursuing yet another possibility anymore than I’m pursuing all those other possibilities, in essence still doing nothing in the natural…

Complete peace. I’m still right where He wants me doing just what He wants

and in the meantime, unlike when I asked him to arrange my marriage, unlike when He told me He would give me a video business, unlike all those times where I was a big help…I’m not out there wasting time or energy or effort.

I’m right here.

Right where He wants.

Ready when called.

One last thought for those sitting on the sidelines.

Talked about seeds, how God alone makes them grow; have heard that a Pharoah’s tomb was opened and four-thousand-year-old seeds found. Out of curiosity, one imagines, somebody planted some.

                             They sprouted. They grew.

                             Four-thousand-year-old seeds.

                             It’s never too late to get in the game, Best Beloved.

Don’t forget to write

Tuned, Fueled, Pointed

‘Here’s the deal, and this is important, so listen closely: If I am a Christian—if I have given Christ lordship of my life—where I am in five years is none of my business. Where I am in twenty years is none of my business. Where I am tomorrow is none of my business.’ – Phil Vischer, ‘My, Myself and Bob’

When we last left Phil Vischer, previous post, he had received a definite Sign from God that the VeggieTales idea was a good one; that he shouldn’t give up. And anybody paying attention in the mid-90s, even if you were strictly based in the secular world, could hardly fail to note that Phil’s idea took off. I mean, The Simpsons bothered doing a VeggieTales parody. They don’t notice just anybody. (Although their David and Goliath joke in the episode where Homer’s skipping church remains one of my all-time favorites.)

Despite a great deal of turmoil and struggle, Vischer talks about being thrice hospitalized for stress-related issues VeggieTales grew by leaps and bounds, seeing 3300% growth in just a couple years. It was unprecedented, it was amazing, it certainly seemed to be God.

The creators, in addition to VeggieTales, had 3-2-1 Penguins, Larryboy cartoons, a live-action show, a feature-film in the making, Big Idea Productions bought an entire building in downtown Chicago to make into a VeggieTales-themed haven.

Then everything unraveled.

No, really. Everything.

The overreaching, overdrawn, overbuilt company had to default on the downtown Chicago building plan. The live-action show lost money despite being a sold-out ‘success’. Though Bob and Larry were selling millions in merchandise and books and videocassettes Big Idea had gotten so big that millions more were being spent than made.

“When the VeggieTales Jonah movie comes out, if it makes eight million we’ll be okay.”

The movie did far more than anybody expected, something like six million, but it wasn’t enough.

“When the videocassette drops, if we sell three million, we’ll be okay.”

They sold 2.5 million, which is a lot, but it wasn’t enough.

Then there was the lawsuit brought by an overseas distributor.

“They’re lying. They’re completely misrepresenting the situation. Surely God will step in and when He does we’ll be okay.”

The jury awarded Lyrick Studios everything. Lock, stock and Larryboy.

Me, Myself and Bob is a fantastic read, not least because Vischer is completely honest and vulnerable. Would recommend the book for any business owner; I won’t go into detail but after explaining how the house that Bob built crumbled in his hands, Phil outlines in one chapter all the corporate mistakes he made, and very clearly states that in the end the responsibility for money lost, jobs lost, damaged dreams and hopes and lives were in one person’s hands. Himself. ‘I dusted the body for fingerprints; they were all mine.’

Thing of it is, this is the second time reading his book and, probably because I’m in a different spiritual place than I was last time, in transit I noticed something that I had missed before.

From the very beginning, as Phil describes his faith-based childhood, his Bible-college hijinks, the budding world of computer animation and his growing place in it, something was missing.

He started playing around with a new computer animated idea, changed the initial candy-bar character into a cucumber, the planted seed started growing and yet…

People agreed with his vision, bought into the Big Idea, VeggieTales came into being and started gaining momentum but…

Throughout the story, despite Phil’s excellent and detailed narrative style, not once did he say anything like “So God told me to…” or “God’s plan involved…” or “What God wanted…”

No question Phil’s heart was after God; every moment of the story is saturated with a love for Jesus and a desire to serve Him. To tell the world about the wonder of the gospel and fight back against capitalism-driven media. To have a better message. To be, I’m not exaggerating here, a Christian Disney.

But although last week’s example showed God’s encouragement, at no point in the story from birth to death of VeggieTales did Phil say anything about asking God’s counsel.

Until Chapter 21, ‘Dreams, Part II’ which I’m tempted just to type up verbatim because it’s so honest and humble and there’s so much good in it but—Vischer reiterates all the places where God could absolutely have stepped in to save the company…and didn’t. He tells of the loss, of everything, of the lights being turned out on the last hope of his Big Idea, to the point that he was (as of the book’s 2006 writing) a freelancer working for the very company he created.

“For a while of course, I just lay at the bottom of the stairs” metaphorically speaking “and moaned. Then I started asking questions. ‘Why, God? Why did you let that happen, because—I mean—wow—that hurt! And I was doing so much good1 Didn’t you notice? Didn’t you see it? Why?’

And then, very quietly, he started whispering to me.”

Can’t speak too highly of Phil’s willingness to humble himself, to be vulnerable; here he records that eighteen months earlier some woman he didn’t know had emailed him, kept it up on a monthly basis, words of encouragement that nonetheless always ended with “keep an eye on your pride.” Words he did not listen to.

He talks about God trying to get his attention in the save-the-company pre-trial prayer meeting.

In a tape featuring a sermon from a Bible conference his mother gave him, one he was too busy to attend personally. About God-given dreams that nonetheless die, and a Shunammite woman and Elisha and the woman’s son.

Deserves a sermon or two, that story, and if you’re not familiar with it might be worth studying 2 Kings chapter 4—to read about someone given something they had stopped hoping for, who then lost that same something, and showed where their heart was. Not with the dream. Not with the gift. With God.

Like Abraham, and his willingness to sacrifice Isaac.

Like Jairus, in Mark chapter 5. “Do not be afraid, only believe.”

The chapter is so chock-full of good, the whole book is and I’m trying to reduce it to a bite-sized version and I’m not doing it justice. Get ‘Me, Myself and Bob’ and be blessed but as Phil was telling his story, relating what God was saying when he was finally willing to listen as compared to the church he grew up in, he said something that I really noticed.

In relating his Protestant upbringing with its go-go-go work ethic, the need to be constantly serving the Lord, he said one of the phrases thrown about with abandon was “God can’t move a parked car.”

I know that one.

Roughly twelve years ago word got out in the Christian singles’ group I was part of that I had laid down my dream of marriage before God, backed off of dating. In the seventeen years I’d been trying to help Him find the right woman for me I’d accomplished a whole lot of nothing. Been hurt. Hurt others. If He really cared about me and if His plan for my life included marriage it seemed reasonable, seemed Wisdom, to back off and let Him tell me what He wanted.

A well-meaning member of that group took me aside. “God can’t move a parked car.”

When God told me back in 2001 that He was going to give me a video business, any thought I might have had to consult with Him about where to look for work, any thought of keeping my attention on Him rather than getting busy making things happen might well have been shunted aside by those six serious words. Not sure anybody needed to tell me; probably told myself at the time. “God can’t move a parked car.”

Do I even have to say that in this current season of Waiting, where I’m not pursuing agents, not pursuing film producers, doing nothing to promote myself because, best of my understanding, that’s what God has asked of me, more than one well-meaning person has reminded me of that important chestnut?

“You’ve gotta be out there. You’ve gotta be busy. God can’t move a parked car.”

After he (thoroughly) recounts his failure and talks about the Shunammite woman, and Abraham, and C.S. Lewis, “He who has God plus many things has nothing more than he who has God alone,” Phil compares incredibly ‘successful’ Christians like D.L. Moody and Bill Bright with ‘limited’ folk like Mother Teresa and Henri Nouwen, people who could have done so much more if they’d just dreamed bigger, just had better systems in place.

I put ‘successful’ and ‘limited’ in quotes for a reason and I’ll come back to them.

Anyway, after these examples and some wonderful wisdom from Henry Blackaby, Phil returns to his original point: “The problem with the saying ‘God can’t steer a parked car’ is that, while it’s cute, it isn’t biblical. When people of great faith in the Bible don’t know what God wants them to do, they don’t just run off and make stuff up. They wait on him.” I’ll add that when they don’t, every time in Scripture somebody takes it upon themselves to make God’s will happen…bad things result. Every. Time.

Phil mentions Proverbs 29:18, “Where there is no vision the people perish” which can be, has been and still is taken to mean “We need to get out there, brothers and sisters! We need to be doing a work! We need to get busy!”

Absolutely.

Assuming we’re reading that verse right.

‘lack of vision’ is indeed one translation but we need to remember our current contextual understanding of vision was not around when the King James was created. Another and for my money much more accurate understanding is the NIV: ‘Where there is no revelation, people cast off restraint; but blessed is the one who heeds wisdom’s instruction.’

There’s an enormous difference between our visions, our plans, ‘we’re going to make Big Idea Productions the most trusted media company in the world’ and waiting on God, letting potential opportunity pass by, not getting out there busily doing, not until we know what His vision happens to be. Until we have revelation.

Phil talks about the hundreds, thousands of students fresh out of Bible college or film school or art school who are anxious to get to work, with visions of, say, Noah in their minds. “Where’s my ark! I wanna save the world too!”

“…I started to get it. The Christian life wasn’t about running like a maniac; it was about walking with God. It wasn’t about impact; it was about obedience. It wasn’t about making stuff up; it was about listening.

“Noah walked with God. He waited on God. …and when God needed someone at a specific time in history to advance his will in a specific and dramatic way, he knew who to call, because he knew who was listening.”

He knew who to call because He knew who was listening.

Big Idea’s mission statement, mentioned earlier, was about being the most trusted media company in the world.

Jellyfish Labs, the company Phil created after Big Idea went to pieces, their mission statement is Doing whatever God wants. “Where do you see yourself in five years?” “In the center of God’s will.”

Said I’d come back to this; in the natural world while Mother Teresa is held up by most of us as a paragon of virtue and selflessness if, you know, she’d just had a better system in place, how many more people could have been fed? She could have overseen a feeding ministry with a much better infrastructure. Henri Nouwen was teaching at Harvard, that Harvard, with the potential to reach thousands of students for Jesus and he left to care and feed some disabled guy. Who, sure, needed him but there was such potential!

Regular readers will know that I’m dreaming all kinds of big. I’m hoping to bless millions, hundreds of millions of people with my writing.

The dream is as big as it is, far beyond anything I can accomplish and far beyond anything I would have embraced, because as of right now God has said this is what I want to make happen. I’m going to take care of 99% of the work—stand ready to move when the time comes.

All the same if before I finish writing this sentence He says Hey, new plan. Let all that go, it’s gone. He who has God and a writing career blessing and influencing untold millions has nothing more than he who has God alone.

And in no small part because of His patience and faithfulness I’ve got God, Best Beloved.

I have the exact same mission statement as Phil Vischer did in 2006 and hopefully still does today. Whatever God wants.

And that parked car? My brilliant wife came up with the perfect analogy just last night as we talked about all this.

Yes, technically, you could say that my ‘car’ is ‘parked’ right now.

But I’m not on some side street with my feet on the dashboard and my head back, nodding off while a fly circles my head. (That shot up there, toy cars on the shelf, you’ll never know how hard it was to not dust that shelf off before I took the picture…but the setting, dust and all, fits the example)

I’m at the starting line.

My engine is tuned to the point of highest performance.

My gas tank is full.

I’m wearing my firesuit, my racing gloves, my helmet, my five-point racing harness and I am ready

for that green light. For His green light.

The one God will give me in His time, at His pleasure, in accordance with His will.

“The impact God has planned for us doesn’t occur when we’re pursuing impact. It occurs when we’re pursuing God.” – Phil Vischer, ‘My, Myself and Bob’

“All eyes are on You, expectant…” – Psalm 145 MSG

Don’t forget to write

Standing, Waiting

‘When I consider how my light is spent, ere half my days, in this dark world and wide

And that one Talent which is death to hide lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent

To serve therewith my Maker, and present my true account, lest he returning chide;

“Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?” I fondly ask. But patience, to prevent

That murmur, soon replies, “God doth not need either man’s work or his own gifts; who best

Bear his mild yoke they serve him best. His state is Kingly.

Thousands at his bidding speed and post o’er land and ocean without rest;

They also serve who only stand and wait.”’ – John Milton, ‘Sonnet 19’

Minister I listen to regularly, like a few hours a week regularly, often mentions an encounter with God he experienced in 1968, how for several months he was “gone somewhere”, so caught up in understanding of God’s love for him that he hardly slept more than an hour or two at a stretch, ate only enough to sustain himself, hardly noticing he was eating.

That experience has been a cornerstone for what is right now a celebrated, 55-year ministry touching millions of lives around the world.

A student in his bible college asked this man “Do you ever doubt that experience? Doubt that it was real?”

In a very gracious response that, to double down on the graciousness AW mentioned in one of his own teachings that any who hear it might be blessed by, he responded “Every day.”

Every day.

God has been so faithful, in this season and every other in my life. He has proved Himself over and over and over and I’m not asking Him to do so again, lately if I ‘put a fleece out’ (see Judges 6) it’s for direction, not for God to prove anything to me. He needs never prove anything to me.

But it’s still mildly frustrating that I must keep continually course correcting. That the needle moves off true throughout the day. That the ‘living sacrifice’ He’s called me to offer keeps, well, crawling off the altar.

All the same when I do start to wonder, when His list of faithful promises seems faded, like maybe I’m just kidding myself about all this, and to sit here not pursuing agents, not pursuing film producers, not working on the next writing project so I’m at least doing something…

He is always always always faithful to remind me that I’m on track. Right where He wants me.

For example a writing friend and spouse, who have been missionaries in a foreign land for some decades. Who had told me, as recently as a few weeks ago, that the chances of ever coming home were slim to none. Who had, if I’m telling the story right and I’ll print a retraction if not, kind of resigned themselves to living on the other side of the world until they were called Home. Even considering aging parents, this friend said “an emergency plane ticket” fund was the most they had found faith to put together.

That same couple will be back here anytime now, if they haven’t landed in the States by the time I write this.

They were hoping just to be able to visit, for the sake of others, and in the last seven days God arranged, beyond any expectation on their part, a miracle that has brought them home. To stay.

Remembering that He does that, things out of nowhere that we hadn’t even imagined possible, was encouragement this week.

As was the following, taken from excellent book ‘Me, Myself and Bob’ by Phil Vischer, recounting the rise (and fall) of VeggieTales.

‘I couldn’t believe my ears. They still weren’t willing to put any money into my talking vegetables—even after seeing Bob and Larry talk and hearing Mike and me hum “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.” What more did they need? I drove back home confused and depressed. To make matters worse, all the time I had put into producing that film was time that hadn’t gone into generating any revenue. I didn’t have any money to pay Mike, so I told him he should probably start looking for work elsewhere. Several family members advised me to do the same. Mike found a job at another production company, and I found myself working alone once again.

A week or two later, I was sitting at the kitchen table in our small loft apartment assessing our finances. Things looked really bad. Our checking account was overdrawn. We were late on rent. I had no leads on VeggieTales and no leads on new commercial jobs. In my wallet was a ten-dollar bill. That was it. All the money we had in the world.

“We’re out of dog food.”

“What?” I turned to see who had spoken. It was my wife.

“We’re out of dog food,” she said again. Oh, great. A twenty-five pound bag of Purina was about ten dollars. I looked at the ten-dollar bill in my wallet and looked at our dog, Max. He looked hungry. Reluctantly, I handed the bill to my wife, who headed for the store, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The apartment was still and dark. Our daughter, Shelby, now eighteen months old, was sleeping in the next room. I couldn’t afford to give her health insurance. I couldn’t afford to pay her rent. Now I didn’t even know how I would feed her.

“You fool,” a voice inside me said. “Look at what a mess you’ve made. No one can rely on you. You can’t even take care of your family. And for what? This stupid kids’ show dream? This thing you think God told you to do?” My eyes welled up with tears as the doubt grew louder. “What if you were wrong all along? What if all this wasn’t from God? What if all this was just your idea? Just you? Man, would that ever make you the fool of the year!”’

Not sure why exactly this passage struck me so forcefully. Not like I was possibly potentially having these exact same thoughts about my own vision, my own dreams, as I was reading.

‘For the first time, I doubted. For the first time, I wondered if perhaps I had made the whole thing up. My “call”—everything. “God,” I called out, “tell me this isn’t just me—tell me you’re in this, too!”

A friend stopped by. He noticed the desperate look on my face and asked what was wrong. I told him about our state, and he immediately pulled out his wallet and offered me everything he had. “No, thank you,” I heard myself say. Something told me this wasn’t the answer I needed. My friend left. I turned back to the stack of mail on the table in front of me, looking for something to distract me from the screaming doubt. Bill. Bill. Bill. Wait…what’s that?

There was a letter tucked among the bills, hand-addressed to us, with no return address. I opened it. Inside was a cashier’s check for $400, with a handwritten, unsigned note that simply said, “God laid it on my heart that you might need this.”

My heart stopped. Four hundred dollars wasn’t necessarily going to turn our lives around, but the message was crystal clear.’

Just for the record, my kids have health insurance. The dog has food. The family is not in crisis and this is not a plea for help. Though the burden of the finances has been on my wife’s job as I pursue a full-time dream that has, to date, earned us roughly ten dollars a year over the past six years God has blessed us tremendously. We’re okay.

‘God was there in the room, at the table, with me. He was with me in my darkest hour, when voices were screaming “Give up! This isn’t God, it’s just you, fool!” There he was. Sitting beside me at the black laminate table in our loft apartment as my daughter slept in the next room and my wife hunted for dog food with our last ten dollars—God was there, quietly whispering, “I’m with you. Don’t give up.”

That wasn’t the end of our “hard times,” of course. We had many more crises to face, and we still do. But since that day, I have never once doubted that God has called me to use my gifts for him, and that he will supply whatever resources I need in his perfect timing.

And I will never give up.’

Phil speaks for me. Not that I can claim I’ll never doubt again, the wind and the waves crop up at times and the ship needs regular course correction.

But I know that I know that I know that I’m right where He wants me and for all it looks in the natural like nothing happened again this week, in the Real we’re a week closer to whatever He’s planning

and I wouldn’t be anywhere else.

Rule of three being what it is, not unreasonable if anyone reading is wondering if I have one more example of God’s encouragement.

Of course I do.

One morning this week, might have been Wednesday, I woke up with Ephesians 6:13 in my ears.

‘Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.’ (NIV)

After having done everything.

Two weeks into I don’t have anything to write besides a weekly blog post and this is only coming out of my fingers because I wanted to; had something to say…

I’m not pursuing agents and not pursuing film producers and not trying to kick doors down and not even working on a novel or screenplay or Sarcastic Fairy Tale

because God said if I wanted His best to let Him handle such things

so it could be argued that this week at least I’ve done everything.

Except stand

And wait.

Like I say that verse bounded up the stairs and wrapped itself around my neck, I received it, reminded myself of it as I went into my day.

That minister I mentioned earlier, the one who was willing to admit his heart doubting “every day” the hand of God in his life over the course of a fifty-five year ministry?

I put on, that same morning, one of his sermons in a series about Staying Positive in a Negative World

and darned if he didn’t, in the course of that message,

mention Ephesians 6:13.

‘They also serve who only stand and wait.’

Never worked so hard in my life and I’ve also never had so much fun.

Wouldn’t be anywhere else, Best Beloved.

Not anywhere.

Don’t forget to write

Trusting – Delighted – Committed

‘Trust in the LORD and do good; dwell in the LORD and enjoy safe pasture. Delight yourself in the LORD and He will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the LORD; trust in Him and He will do this: He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn, the justice of your cause like the noonday sun. Be still before the LORD and wait for Him…’ – Psalm 37, MSG

Thinking about something from four years ago and something else from twenty-three years ago.

This week was the first of But I Don’t Feel Like Writing Anything and I’m surprised and pleased to say that not having work to do was not a struggle.

My Spirit continues in peace and (this is the unexpected part) so did the rest of me. The ever-constant what if I’m doing something wrong/missing something important buzz hovered, but it was background noise, mostly.

This week was the first time in the five years since God gave me the words back that I wasn’t either working on a writing project or waiting out ‘mandatory vacation’ time, as it were, until I could get back to writing. As mentioned last week there’s a half-dozen potential novels I could be researching, several screenplay projects I could be thinking about…but there isn’t anything I want to do next, at least there wasn’t this week, and God didn’t spur anything.

For the record one of those half-dozen, not the one I had kinda expected to be working on right now, involves a tornado-chasing-tour family and I couldn’t turn around without somebody referencing tornadoes this week.

Which puts me in mind of the ‘four years ago’ story.

Regulars will (possibly) remember that five years ago The Feud leapt out of my fingers. Speaking of not waiting super well, the five weeks right in the middle of the first draft when I had too many Dance Recitals to deal with, wasn’t really free to write, kinda drove me crazy – and after it was given out to the world I wanted to jump into the next thing.

Another book. Please, God, let me write another book.

Didn’t know then what I know now—thought, worried about if I’m honest, that I had to choose the right project or be getting it wrong. Be outside God’s will, ruining the plan, blah blah blah.

Thing is—I’m anointed to write and if what I’m creating honors God, and it’s something I have a desire for, it’s the right project. Whether screenplay or blog post or novel or grocery list.

But I wasn’t aware of that, so I agonized. Didn’t want to get it wrong.

And while finishing up The Feud, I happened to drive up into the Colorado foothills, stop at a little place for lunch, got served by a Cassandra.

Could probably count on one hand the number of times in my life I’ve met anybody named Cassandra and this one had no idea, don’t recall mentioning it to her, that one of the potential books I was considering, one that could be next, involved twins then named Casey and Cassie.

Short for Cassandra.

Having met one half of the Baker twins I figured, in the silly way I have of doing math sometimes, that when I met the other half, when I ran across a Casey, that would be God telling me it was time to start A Pair Apart.

The Feud got finished. Got published. I might have taken a week or two off to enjoy the success but I was ready to get going.

And believe me, as soon as Andromeda’s story was anywhere near complete I started looking around. Made a point of going back up the hill to that specific little hole-in-the-wall…wasn’t served by a Casey. Started asking, every time I went out to eat, the server’s name. Guy or girl, would have been fine. No Casey.

I even, not making this up, debated which food court kiosk to go to when at a mall because what if my Casey was working at Chipotle and I went to Del Taco instead?

Got to the point where any Casey, no matter where I met them, would have done—honestly I’m not sure I’ve run into anybody by that name in ages. Like there was a really specific rapture; they seem to all be gone.

In the meantime, and don’t think I wasn’t foolishly desperate, about missing it, about what I was surely doing wrong that would result in total failure…….

Figured research on another book might be allowed, might not be disobeying God’s as-yet-unrevealed-plan and I knew by then that when I got around to Jessie’s Species there would be a falcon. Didn’t know falcons from  budgies so I bought T.H. White’s Goshawk, from the library I borrowed Helen McDonald’s Falcon and in reading that, noted that she had written another book on birds of prey, H is for Hawk.

Was planning on getting that one, too, and then one day in October or so I needed a new book to read. I have a shelf of books I’ve never read, picked up at thrift stores or yard sales because they look interesting, and at the time that shelf was groaning under double-stacks. I couldn’t even see the ones in the back so I moved a whole pile to see what lurked behind and what was waiting for me, completely forgotten about, but

H is for Hawk.

And thusly did William know exactly what book he was supposed to write next.

Wrote Jessie’s Species in 2020, wrote Symphony Alexandra in 2021, still didn’t run across a Casey despite having my radar up pretty much constantly, and either I figured God could stop me if I was wrong or I just got over it but wrote A Pair Apart that same year.

And, you may have been saying this all along, what was I thinking, twins named Casey and Cassie?

Exactly the sort of thing real-life parents do (Katherine and Kathryn is one real-life example—do they just call one and figure they get both everytime?) but what a hassle for a reader! I had people refuse to even start reading the book when the two names were that close, I realized in the editing process that even I the writer had gotten confused a few times…

…and so for various reasons I decided to change Casey (had already met Cassandra) to Abigail.

And immediately ran into an Abigail. In fact I started tripping over them, nearly. Church worship leader’s daughter. Old friend’s oldest daughter. My kid’s kindergarten teacher. Somebody took all the Caseys and switched them out for Abigails, apparently and occasionally I wonder if God teases me a little. When He knows I’ll get the joke.

Anyway.

Point of the long-winded story is that (a) I don’t agonize over the right project anymore and (b) to illustrate the difference between then and now.

Where there isn’t anything I want to work on and I can’t prove that I’ll ever write again.

Be astonished if I didn’t; this is what God put me here to do and I have zero reason to think we’re done.

But as I sit here I don’t have direction from Him or passion for anything specific.

All those tornado references – could be God is telling me something and being real subtle about it; also could be He’s teasing me again—if so I definitely get the joke.

And given how I’ve been and not all that long ago, I’m extremely very thankful that this was a good week. My wife has expressed surprise and pleasure that it wasn’t hard for me—if she was braced to deal with Mr. Cranky Writingpants I don’t blame her for a second; I was braced to deal with Mr. Cranky Writingpants.

But it was a good week. I didn’t have to fight to believe, which I was willing to do. For the most part I was just…at peace. Content.

Trusting. Delighted. Committed. Being still. Waiting patiently.

My Bible in a Year version is mid-Psalms at the moment; wonderful encouragement there today.

‘Yet I am always with You; You hold me by my right hand. You guide me with Your word, and afterward You take me into glory.’ – Psalm 73 ESV

‘Blessed are those whose strength is in You, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage’ ‘Blessed is the man who trusts in You.’ – Psalm 84 ESV

‘May the favor of the LORD our God rest upon us; establish the work of our hands for us—yes establish the work of our hands!’ – Psalm 90 ESV

I’ve been highlighting passages that speak to me; that last one was circled before I got there. Accompanied by a handwritten note from a time-traveler, speaking the faith he had available at the time.

‘4-28-2001 as I pray + believe for editing equipment + work’

The handwriting is mine; twenty-three years ago I was just hoping to afford a computer with an editing program and find somebody, anybody, who would pay me to produce anything on such.

On one hand it would be another six years before Ninja Boy Productions was really humming along

but on the other…God certainly answered that prayer.

‘Not to us, o LORD, not to us but to Your name be the glory, because of Your love and faithfulness.’ – Psalm 115

Don’t forget to write

Hocus Pocus by Focus

‘It wasn’t the fun, the novelty, the magic that mattered anymore. What mattered was that Little Bear should be happy. For that, he would take on almost anything.’ – ‘The Indian in the Cupboard’, Lynne Reid Banks

Mentioned ‘movie magic as a result of chancy budgets’ previously; this week I learned that the baby carriage scene in The Untouchables? (If you know, you know) That whole ending scene was supposed to be a big, runaway train kind of setpiece but…budget. And maybe folks would talk breathlessly to this day about the big, runaway train but say The Untouchables and see if you don’t hear “Oh, that baby carriage!”

Also the General Lee was supposed to be a Chevrolet Chevelle, but Dodge Chargers were cheaper…

Editing: almost three months after hanging out my shingle I’ve had one client—and thankful I was to hear, this very morning, from the writer that my input has been ‘invaluable.’ Especially considering how (unfortunately) little chance there is that the guy whose story is being told will make his money back in sales. I make certain to warn potential clients about this before taking anybody’s money but still – getting paid in circumstances where people hoping to then make a profit almost certainly won’t…doesn’t sit super well with me. I don’t feel I’m being dishonest but it just…doesn’t sit well.

Meanwhile the guy who prompted all this back in February, telling me (as I had asked God to have somebody do, if He wanted me to even start offering) “I’ll pay you if I have to”, found out last night that he lost his job, has no money for editing. I don’t desperately need his project or any other, we’re blessed, but for the record, uh, one client in three months and all the people who were ‘definitely going to hire me’ when initially pitched have, as of right now, fallen by the wayside.

I’m wrestling with that one—feeling simultaneously like I’m kinda failing and also glad to not take people’s money when I think they’re throwing it away. I’ll be glad when harvest comes and my own writing is paying off and Tiffany and I can talk about “remember when you were available to edit people?”

My writing: as of about thirty minutes ago Hawkstone is written up, twenty-seven words shy of 80K; after this blog post I’ll be taking the rest of Saturday off, Sunday off, and then…

Well.

A lot can happen in forty-eight hours so I don’t know what to think about Monday but if nothing changes, Monday morning I’m…

…not sure how to describe it. On sabbatical? On standby? On strike?

Not on strike. That implies I have waiting work I refuse to perform.

And I’d love to jump into the next thing. Busy Season doesn’t start for another month, two of three children still have four more weeks of school, I really don’t want to sit around watching old I Spy episodes.

But though Monday morning I could absolutely start writing Silent Skater the screenplay, or put together a scene list for The Kid the screenplay, comb online libraries for research information on fighter pilots or stuntmen or Olympic training or tornado chasing or indy bands or stand-up comics or building fighting robots, that’s seven different potential novel bases which do not in any way represent all the percolating ideas…

Right this second and like I say a lot can change in two days, well, God hasn’t directed me to a next thing

and for the first time in five years, I got the words back five years ago yesterday,

for the first time in five years after eight novels, three screenplays, two miniseries and 225 blog posts

there’s nothing, right this second, that I want to work on.

Sabbatical. Standby.

The last two novels I’ve largely jumped in, with God’s encouragement, not knowing how they’d end.

Right this second this feels like that, in a way—whereas I was ready with those books to face a blank page, trusting my writing partner to hand me the story as I needed it, looks like Monday I get to sit with life a Blank Page, at least where the Vision is concerned,

trusting my writing partner to craft my story as needed.

Maybe I’ll wake up on fire for something, morning of the 22^nd.

Maybe some time off will allow for fresh tread on worn tires.

Maybe this is all about a deeper trust in Him.

Maybe something really big, an unexpected and important project, is just around the corner which God can see and I cannot, and He knows I wouldn’t want to put down something lesser when it arrives.

I don’t know.

What I do know is that as and if I submit to this facet of the Waiting it’s up to me where I put my focus.

The pictures accompanying this post – apologies for the never-great picture-of-a-picture screenshots but they aren’t my pictures, so I’m posting in a (hopefully) Free Use kind of way to illustrate my point.

Nothing against that dragonfly up there at the top but right now, to say nothing of Monday morning, I could narrow my focus to five years and still no harvest or three months and one client or any number of little, annoying disappointments or setbacks or frustrations flitting about. They’re always flitting about.

Or I can take it upon myself to open my eyes further, see the forest around, bigger troubles like what if I’m doine writing again or if God doesn’t move this doesn’t happen or what if God never moves

Or…or I can lift mine eyes even higher, take in the full picture, for all I’m focusing at that point on things over which I have little to no control or authority, and remember just how good He is

And enjoy the view.

Somebody recently said author Kristen Hannah is worth reading. I don’t know what her writing is like but I do know, having looked her up on Amazon, that she’s not hurting for fans.

In a writing world where 99.999 percent of the books out there have zero reviews, getting 100 reviews is relatively rare and hard to accomplish, and 10,000 marks the folks you’ve heard of, the ones having novels optioned for movies, Kristen Hannah has hundreds of thousands of reviews. Without actually checking on, say, Grisham or Clancy or Crichton or King I’ve never seen books with that much approval.

And when I saw that I had a choice. There’s always, always, always a choice.

In this case I could see hundreds of thousands of reviews and, well, despair.

‘Look how well she’s doing. I don’t have one ten-thousandth the approval she’s got and this road seems endless and if God doesn’t move nothing is going to happen

Or I can look at the exact same information, the exact same picture, and think

‘WOW! Who says nobody reads anymore?’

In the natural there are circumstances I can magnify, elevate, give all my attention to and quite reasonably find depressing. Frustrating.

But God does not change, God is ever faithful, He’s promised and I am doing everything He’s asked me to do

and it’s my choice, it’s always my choice what gets my attention.

I mean, with apologies to Gertrude Stein, I’ve been depressed and I’ve been encouraged and encouraged is better. It’s not easier, not by a long shot, but definitely better.

Honestly, what point noticing the wind and the waves? Walking on water wouldn’t be any more possible, any more under my control and authority if the Sea of Galilee were perfectly calm.

So I might as well lift up mine eyes, for all it takes more effort, and keep them on Him

where they belong.

It’s not magic, Best Beloved, and it’s not the easy thing to do. It takes effort.

But I always have the choice.

He’s well pleased with me – that’s the only thing that really matters today

“I look to You, heaven-dwelling God, look up to you for help. Like servants, alert to their Master’s commands, like a maiden attending her lady, we’re watching and waiting, holding our breath…” – Psalm 123 – MSG

It’ll only be a moment…

Don’t forget to write

Action Verbs

‘Abruptly the teacher, who had been perched on a desk, stood up and went to a cupboard. Omri was not surprised to see a magnifying glass in her hand when she turned around.’ – ‘The Indian in the Cupboard’, Lynne Reid Banks

‘So that’s fun;’ this week ‘Hero’s Eyes’ dropped, an episode from season three of the Blind Play Podcast. A Blind Play (buzzsprout.com)

Just wanted to mention it because the actors involved in the recording are reading my words, performing characters I created and for the first time I got to experience what it’s like to release a creation to someone else who might see/hear it differently. The actor reading for my beloved falcon had a different vision than what I’ve always had in my head but also for the first time I got to hear other people reading my words and I’ve been waiting three decades for that.

It was marvelous. Link above has the ten-minute story plus the forty-or-so minutes we all spent talking about the story; both free for the listen if you’re into that sort of thing.

Often when I’m beta reading for someone, I’ll get on their case about passive voice. “They were walking” – “the mouse was chased by the cat” – “the safe was blown up by the robbers” – there’s a time and a place for all storytelling tools but the passive voice is almost always a drag on a story, an unnecessary handicap. They walked, the cat chased the mouse, they blew up the safe and so forth, brings the action to the forefront.

More on that in a minute.

Have heard it preached—and fully buy into, hard as it is in the moment sometimes—that we get to choose how we feel. What we focus on. When Scriptures, and there’s more than a few, talk about magnifying the Lord…it’s not just praise or worship though that certainly helps the process in my case, but determining that no matter what is going on in the natural, I’m going to focus on Yahweh. Make Him the important part and weirdly enough, the bigger I make Him (and have I ever comprehended one-thousandth part of the real? One millionth?) the smaller the problem gets by comparison.

Being incredibly faithful as He is, sometimes God even helps.

This morning I read a Psalm out of my Message-based collection, as I’m wont to do, and today it was Psalm 105.

And something tugged at me while I was reading. I’m always ready for anything God wants to tap me on the shoulder—or hit me between the eyes—with; always looking to be encouraged or strengthened or even rebuked. If it’s what He wants me to see I want to see it.

What struck me about Psalm 105, for perhaps the first time despite multiple readings over the past few years, were all the action verbs. The Psalm is about God’s faithfulness, specifically with the Israelites back in the land of Egypt. And for whatever reason, instead of seeing the whole picture, it was all those things God did that pointed themselves out to me. I bothered writing them down.

He rendered – He remembered – He made – He swore – He established – He permitted – He told – He called – He broke – He sent – He confirmed – He sent – He gave – He turned – He sent – He spoke – He turned – He made – He gave – He substituted – He stabbed – He wasted – He brought – He struck down – He led – He spread – He brought – He filled – He opened – He remembered – He led – He made them a gift – He helped them – He told them…

Yahweh did quite a bit, actually – and looking at it like that…I was blessed.

Because, I’m not ashamed to admit, when I manage to swing away from I must be getting it wrong somehow and ruining everything the pendulum tends to veer over into maybe God’s forgotten me territory. Maybe He’s not going to do anything to help me.

Given that these dreams, these enormous, ridiculous dreams require God’s help, if He doesn’t move I’m utterly without hope here…the fear which is never from Him that maybe He’s got better things to do with His time, that maybe I haven’t really been keeping up well enough to warrant His attention…

These thoughts can become burdensome.

They’re not from God; thanks to what Jesus did for me all the blessings in Deuteronomy 28 are mine by right of adopted sonship; I never have to earn them which is great because I can’t. The whole point of the law was to show us how high that bar is. Nobody but Jesus ever cleared it, I’m not going to be the first so if God would bless, say, David or Moses or Abraham or Peter or Joshua or Gideon…I can have faith that He will bless me.

Remember me.

As I read Psalm 105 this morning (writing this on Monday for all you won’t see it until Saturday, Best Beloved) just looking at that laundry list of action verbs blessed me. Comforted me. He’s a God of action and He’s promisedto act on my behalf. In time.

I’m not religious about it by any means—God forbid I’m religious about anything; it’s a dirty, nasty word—but most mornings in addition to the Message-based Psalm I also take a couple minutes to read, meditate on one chapter out of my English Standard Version.

As of last fall I’ve also started, usually do this around lunchtime, adding in whatever chapters comprise the daily reading in one of those Read Through The Word In A Year Bibles.

The one-chapter-a-day ESV Bible, on January 1^st I was in Exodus or Deuteronomy, somewhere in the Great Wildnerness Excursion with the Israelites while meanwhile the Bible In A Year started (you’ll never believe this) in Genesis 1.

Still, with the BIAY giving me several chapters every day, I knew the two would line up sooner or later, have been waiting for it as in the ESV I’ve been reading Samuel and the BIAY last week had done with Joshua.

They caught up last Saturday, with 2 Samuel chapter 2 in both, and…God showed me something.

Something I’m going to keep to myself for now, in that pondered these things in her heart kind of way, but for the record—it’s very cool and I’m excited.

Anyway. Given that BIAY was humming straight through the Old Testament to where ESV was moving more slowly, as it were, I knew they’d sync up as I’ve said.

What I did not anticipate was that my BIAY would match up with my Message Psalm.

My version of the Bible In A Year is also chronological, so with most of the Psalms being David-related, they’re coming up shortly, little over a week instead of waiting until after Kings, Chronicles, Ezra, Nehemiah, etc.

All the same, most of them, like I say are a couple weeks away.

Except for a few where they stuck them right when they happened.

For example the Psalm David sang when the ark was returned to Jerusalem, chronicled in 2 Samuel 6.

Also known (I know this now) as Psalm 105.

Which they stuck in today’s BIAY reading.

No lie and most definitely no coincidence, the Holy Spirit wanted to make sure I got it so doubled down on those action verbs today.

Remembers, commanded, made, swore, confirmed, allowed, called, destroyed, sent, proved, made, turned, sent, turned, spoke, turned, struck, shattered, spoke, struck down, brought out, spread out, brought, satisfied, opened, remembered, brought out, gave…

Worth noting, I certainly have, that remembered is in there twice.

God is not passive. He’s not out there somewhere wringing His hands.

He is at work and anybody who would choose to give up, well, everything (no less than what He gave up for us, may we never forget) can join Him in the adventure. (see also Psalm 107, 111, etc)

“And now, O Lord God, confirm forever the word that You have spoken concerning Your servant and concerning his house, and do as You have spoken. And Your name will be magnified forever…” – 2 Samuel 25, 26a – ESV

Dreaming with our eyes wide open, Best Beloved

Don’t forget to write

It’s the Climb

‘But without faith it is impossible to please God.’ – Hebrews 11:6 KJV

“As well as bold, you are also incredibly determined. When you set your mind to something…

“You and IC and I ran around the park by the ice rink by the post office yesterday, and you’ll likely remember the ten foot artificial rock that kids climb, near the ladder and slide that you guys continually go up and down at 2 and 4 even though it’s a 5+ playground feature.

“When you saw the big rock, you determined to see the top.

“You didn’t get more than eight inches off the ground—you’re physically not big enough just yet.

“But.

“Without any impatience that I saw, any frustration, you attempted the face you could reach over and over and over—you had to try another handhold every five seconds or so and yet you tackled that wall for easily five minutes. Sixty times or more.

“You had set a goal and you were bound to see it through.

“I am so proud of you—that determination can and will move mountains” – 9-30-2020

From the journal I’ve been keeping for my son Andrew since before he was born. This particular entry I wrote when Andrew was two years and two months old.

He’s nearing six now and I’m still telling this story—could see telling it when we drop him off for college. At his wedding rehearsal.

I didn’t blame him for trying that climb a first time. Even a second. (Climbing’s in the boy’s DNA; yesterday he was hanging from a feature at his kindergarten playground twice as tall as himself)

But the determination of my middle son, diaper and all, to try and fail, move a step to the right and try and fail, move a step to the right and try and try and try and try…

As Waiting continues I remind myself of how long Abraham and Joseph and Moses and David waited.

Read just this morning about David after Saul died – not only did he cool his heels (as it were) between Samuel’s anointing him and Saul’s death, there was another seven and a half years of waiting while he was only king of Judah, before all Israel was his.

I wonder which season was harder? At least in the second round nobody was trying to kill him. But still, to be so close…

Anyway, as I consider Good Waiters I also desire to be more like Andrew. My Andrew, nothing against Jesus’ disciple, in my determination to attempt that climb again today.

Because it’s the road God has me on, I’m right where He wants me to be and I’m bound to see it through.

Even if it takes a few more years

Don’t forget to write

Pages 153-159

‘“Why, this is a prettier game than the other,” said the Witch. “Tell us, little maid, where is this other world? What ships and chariots go between it and ours?”

Of course a lot of things darted into Jill’s head at once: Experiment House, Adela Pennyfather, her own home, radio-sets, cinemas, cars, aeroplanes, ration-books, queues. But they seemed dim and far away. (Thrum—thrum—thrum—went the strings of the Witch’s instrument.) Jill couldn’t remember the names of the things in our world. And this time it didn’t come into her head that she was being enchanted, for now the magic was in its full strength; and of course, the more enchanted you get, the more certain you feel that you are not enchanted at all. She found herself saying (and at the moment it was a relief to say): “No. I suppose that other world must be all a dream.”

“Yes, It is all a dream,,” said the Witch, always thrumming.

“Yes, all a dream,” said Jill.

“There never was such a world,” said the Witch.

“No,” said Jill and Scrubb, “never was such a world.”

“There never was any world but mine,” said the Witch.

“There never was any world but yours,” said they.

Puddleglum was still fighting hard. “I don’t know rightly what you all mean by a world,” he said, talking like a man who hasn’t enough air. “But you can play that fiddle till your fingers drop off, and still you won’t make me forget Narnia; and the whole Overworld too. We’ll never see it again, I shouldn’t wonder. You may have blotted it out and turned it dark like this, for all I know. Nothing more likely. But I know I was there once. I’ve seen the sky full of stars. I’ve seen the sun coming up out of the sea of a morning and sinking behind the mountains at night. And I’ve seen him up in the midday sky when I couldn’t look at him for brightness.”

Puddleglum’s words had a very rousing effect. The other three all breathed again and looked at one another like people newly awaked.

“Why, there it is!” cried the Prince. “Of course! The blessing of Aslan upon this honest Marsh-wiggle. We have all been dreaming, these last few minutes. How could we have forgotten it? Of course we’ve all seen the sun.”

“By Jove, so we have!” said Scrubb. “Good for you, Puddleglum! You’re the only one of us with any sense, I do believe.”

Then came the Witch’s voice, cooing softly like the voice of a wood-pigeon from the high elms in an old garden at three o’clock in the middle of a sleepy, summer afternoon; and it said: “What is this sun you all speak of? Do you mean anything by the word?”

“Yes, we jolly well do,” said Scrubb.

“Can you tell me what it’s like?” asked the Witch (thrum, thrum, went the strings).

“Please it your Grace,” said the Prince, very coldly and politely. “You see that lamp. It is round and yellow and gives light to the whole room; and hangeth moreover from the roof. Now that thing which we call the sun is like the lamp, only far greater and brighter. It giveth light to the whole Overworld and hangeth in the sky.”

“Hangeth from what, my lord?” asked the Witch; and then, while they were all still thinking how to answer her, she added, with another of her soft, silver laughs. “You see? When you try to think out clearly what this sun must be, you cannot tell me. You can only tell me it is like the lamp. Your sun is a dream; and there is nothing in that dream that was not copied from the lamp. The lamp is the real thing; the sun is but a tale, a children’s story.”

“Yes, I see now,” said Jill in a heavy, hopeless tone. “It must be so.” And while she said this, it seemed to her to be very good sense.

Slowly and gravely the Witch repeated, “There is no sun.” And they all said nothing. She repeated, in a softer and deeper voice. “There is no sun.” After a pause, and after a struggle in their minds, all four of them said together. “You are right. There is no sun.” It was such a relief to give in and say it.

“There never was a sun,” said the Witch.

“No. There never was a sun,” said the Prince, and the Marsh-wiggle, and the children.

For the last few minutes Jill had been feeling that there was something she must remember at all costs. And now she did. But it was dreadfully hard to say it. She felt as if huge weights were laid on her lips. At last, with an effort that seemed to take all the good out of her, she said: “There’s Aslan.”

“Aslan?” said the Witch, quickening ever so slightly the pace of her thrumming. “What a pretty name! What does it mean?”

“He is the great Lion who called us out of our own world,” said Scrubb, “and sent us into this to find Prince Rilian.”

“What is a lion?” asked the Witch.

“Oh hang it all!” said Scrubb. “Don’t you know? How can we describe it to her? Have you ever seen a cat?”

“Surely,” said the Queen. “I love cats.”

“Well a lion is a little bit—only a little bit, mind you—like a huge cat—with a mane. At least, it’s not like a horse’s mane, you know, it’s more like a judge’s wig. And it’s yellow. And terrifically strong.”

The Witch shook her head. “I see,” she said, “that we should do no better with your lion, as you call it, than we did with your sun. You have seen lamps, and so you imagined a bigger and better lamp and called it the sun. You’ve seen cats, and now you want a bigger and better cat, and it’s to so called a lion. Well, ‘tis a pretty make-believe, though, to say truth, it would suit you all better if you were younger. And look how you can put nothing into your make-believe without copying it from the real world, this world of mine, which is the only world. But even you children are too old for such play. As for you, my lord Prince, that art a man full grown, fie upon you! Are you not ashamed of such toys? Come, all of you. Put away these childish tricks. I have work for you all in the real world. There is no Narnia, no Overworld, no sky, no sun, no Aslan. And now, to bed all. And let us begin a wiser life tomorrow. But first, to bed; to sleep; deep sleep, soft pillows, sleep without foolish dreams.”

The Prince and the two children were standing with their heads hung down, their cheeks flushed, their eyes half closed; the strength all gone from them; the enchantment almost complete. But Puddleglum, desperately gathering all his strength, walked over to the fire. Then he did a very brave thing. He knew it wouldn’t hurt him quite as much as it would hurt a human; for his feet (which were bare) were webbed and hard and cold-blooded like a duck’s. But he knew it would hurt him badly enough; and so it did. With his bare foot he stamped on the fire, grinding a large part of it into ashes on the flat hearth. And three things happened at once.

First, the sweet heavy smell grew very much less. For though the whole fire had not been put out, a good bit of it had, and what remained smelled very largely of burnt Marsh-wiggle, which is not at all an enchanting smell. This instantly made everyone’s brain far clearer. The Prince and the children held up their heads again and opened their eyes.

Secondly, the Witch, in a loud, terrible voice, utterly different from all the sweet tones she had been using up till now, called out, “What are you doing? Dare to touch my fire again, mud-filth, and I’ll turn the blood to fire inside your veins.”

Thirdly, the pain itself made Puddleglum’s head for a moment perfectly clear and he knew exactly what he really thought. There is nothing like a good shock of pain for dissolving certain kinds of magic.

“One word, Ma’am,” he said, coming back from the fire; limping, because of the pain. “One word. All you’ve been saying is quite right. I shouldn’t wonder. I’m a chap who always liked to know the worst and then put the best face I can on it. So I won’t deny any of what you said. But there’s one thing more to be said, even so. Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things—trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that’s a funny thing, when you come to think of it. We’re just babies making up a game, if you’re right. But four babies playing a game can make a play-world which licks your real world hollow. That’s why I’m going to stand by the play world. I’m on Aslan’s side even if there isn’t any Aslan to lead it. I’m going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn’t any Narnia. So, thanking you kindly for our supper, if these two gentlemen and the young lady are ready, we’re leaving your court at once and setting out in the dark to spend our lives looking for Overland. Not that our lives will be very long, I should think; but that’s small loss if the world’s as dull a place as you say.”’ – C.S. Lewis, ‘The Silver Chair’

He is Risen

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Flexible

              ‘Your love, Yahweh, is my song, and I’ll sing it! I’m forever telling everyone how faithful You are.’ – Psalm 89:1 MSG

              Fun things happened this week – got my first official editing client (after several false starts), got to offer feedback on a screenplay, learned I have my first IMDB credit. (The Blind Play podcast, season three, look for Will Robin)

              Also ran across a number of reminders that just because things aren’t going the way I think they should—doesn’t mean good things won’t result.

              Not just the minister in a sermon series on Finding God’s Will, talking to people who feel like they’ve missed it because they haven’t been faithful to His plan, saying “God’s plan B is better than most people’s plan A.”

              Not just remembering, pretty much out of nowhere, that first miracle of Jesus, where the wedding feast’s Executive Producer marveled that what had so recently been water was the best wine they’d had all weekend. “Why didn’t this come out first?”

              I imagined, not saying this is a word from God, my Hollywood Associate, maybe his Director cousin, having run through a mess of scripts for some reason, needing one last just to fulfill some obligation and begrudgingly throwing one of mine onto the pile.

              “This is great! Why in the world wasn’t this first?”

              God knows.

              This week I watched a couple episodes of The Movies That Made Us, could only handle three or four because even as I learn fun facts about the making of Aliens or Back to the Future I’m clutching a pillow to my chest, burning with desire to get out there. See characters I’ve created interacting on a big screen, saying things I told them to say. I trust His love, I trust His plan, I trust His timing but…the waiting.

              The Blind Play episode, when released, should help a little. Two stories I’ve written, rewritten as audioplays (got to do that myself whereas so far as I know, the other episode stories were converted to audio versions by the podcast producer, might be one reason why he was willing to ask me for thoughts on his screenplay) with my words coming out of actor mouths. Not exactly a Paramount-produced epic but a definite step forward.

              And who knows what God will do – anyway, The Movies That Made Us.

              That iconic scene where the lightning strike travels down Doc Brown’s just-attached-in-time wire to send Marty and the DeLorean (original script, was a refrigerator) back to the future? On that Main Street America set that was part of the Universal Studios tour in the 80s and (just checked, thank you YouTube) is still on that same tour near forty years later?

              Was supposed to be a nuclear explosion. Even after the refrigerator became a DeLorean and they talked the head of Universal out of calling the movie Spaceman From Pluto (no, really) the big finale of the movie was scripted, even storyboarded as having a nuclear test, what would provide the necessary 1.21 gigawatts to send Marty back to his own time.

              “Why didn’t they do that?”

              Budgetary problems. Not enough money, especially after having six weeks of reshoots when actor Eric Stoltz was replaced by Michael J. Fox as Marty.

              It’s amazing anything gets made in Hollywood.

              So with reluctance the crew decided to use that Main Street USA set they already had, make it a lightning strike—and a much, much better ending resulted.

              Yesterday, not having another Movies That Made Us episode in me, while the youngest was napping I put on a Monty Python cast reunion special. (Again, thank you YouTube)

              Ever see Monty Python and the Holy Grail? You know the classic joke where the audience hears a horse coming and then it turns out it’s a guy hopping along banging coconut-halves together?

              Eric Idle admitted “We didn’t have enough money for horses.”

              It wasn’t supposed to be a guy banging coconut-halves together.

              But there wasn’t enough money and so a fantastic joke resulted. Far funnier than two guys on two horses.

              A person could, if they so chose, compare the classic Star Wars films (IV, V and VI if you’re counting) against the later released prequel trilogy—one of the big differences between the two being that by the time I, II and III came out, George Lucas had all the money in the world to do everything he wanted.

              Do the Natalie Portman Star Wars movies suffer from an overblown visual effects budget and a lack of comprehensive story? I will let the reader decide.

              (yes)

              But the constraints of needing to make the first three movies, especially the original, on a shoestring resulted in something near magical.

              If nothing else, imagine Han Solo as a green-skinned alien like Lucas wanted. If they’d had the money.

              Setting aside the way both director Bob Zemeckis and lead actor Tom Hanks had to put their own money into Forrest Gump in order for the studio not to shut the film down. Forget how everybody in the world turned down Dirty Dancing until it finally landed in the hands of complete unknowns Great American Films Ltd and Vestron and became the hit nobody believed it could except Great American Films Ltd and Vestron. Never mind the story about the making of Home Alone where the executive from Warner Bros walked through the production building telling each room in turn “Stop working, the shoot is over” followed thirty seconds later by an exec from 20^th Century Fox telling the same people “Forget what the last guy said, you still have a job…”

              (Honestly – if you find stories like this half as interesting as I do go watch The Movies That Made Us. It’s fascinating)

              Jaws, you might’ve heard of it—one of the things that makes that movie work is how much the viewer doesn’t see the shark. A ripple here, a fin there, by the time those gaping jaws are on-screen people have built the thing up so much in their minds their imagination has fired the on-screen reality to record-breaking heights.

              Spielberg himself said the reason we don’t see nearly as much of the shark as he’d planned is because the durn robot kept breaking. Wouldn’t cooperate.

              (Speaking of Spielberg robots, I have heard and imagine it’s mentioned in the MTMU episode about Jurassic Park that the thirty-foot Tyrannosaurus Rex had a habit of shorting out in the Costa Rican rain, moving on its own which surely caused some bowel-loosening among the crew)

              Steve-o has said it himself; if ‘Bruce’ had behaved, “you’d see the shark twice as much and the movie would’ve made half as much money.”

              If nothing else, when Plan B (or J, or V, whatever it takes—God knows) comes about and someone has paid me for screenwriting and I hear that there are budget problems, I can rejoice in how much better the end product will be as a result.

              And remind myself that my Writing Partner is outside this crazy maze, looking down, and can see where He’s leading me.

              If I forget, which I do sometimes, He’s faithful to remind me.

              Did I mention I got an editing job this week?

              What are the odds that in that random book I would find direct encouragement for my personal situation?

              “When you’re in God’s will…you end up just sitting back and watching Him work, knowing His plan is far better than yours and you are in the best of hands.” – Ron Barton, ‘See Changes’          

Couldn’t have said it better myself.

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Fulfilled

              ‘You know with all your heart and soul that not one of all the good promises the LORD your God gave you has failed. Every promise has been fulfilled…’ – Joshua 23:14b NIV

              Talked last week (right? You can go back and check) about potential Plan B’s, how sometimes God’s first choice doesn’t want to cooperate with His plan, and something else comes together.

              Found another example in the Psalms this week, specifically Psalm 78. ‘Suddenly the LORD was on His feet like someone roused from deep sleep, shouting like a drunken warrior. He hit his enemies hard, sent them running, yelping, not daring to look back. He disqualified Joseph as leader, told Ephraim he didn’t have what it takes, and chose the Tribe of Judah instead.’ – the Message

              Some of the writings in Psalms are poetic in nature so I’m not saying this is a history lesson—but unless I’m missing something there was a point where the salvation of all was to come through Joseph’s line, by way of Ephraim, and…that didn’t work out. So God went with Judah instead. Plan B.

             

Don’t know how many times I’ve read that Psalm especially in the last few years when I’ve made to read one every morning; never noticed that bit about Judah before. Jumped off the page and smacked me twixt the eyes.

Examples like this are comforting both in my continued waiting, remembering that everybody in Scripture who gets out ahead of God falls on their face so I might as well be content right here—but also when I think about how whatever He’s doing with the writing, other folks are likely needed.

              God hasn’t, still, weighed in on whether my situation has transitioned to Plan B (He hasn’t said it hasn’t, either) but if my Hollywood Associate’s time is up, we’ll never know what might have been. CS Lewis nailed it in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader: ‘“To know what would have happened?” said Aslan. “No. Nobody is ever told that.”’            

             

And mercy it is that we aren’t; I’ll never know. I can be here, right where God wants me, and trust His plan even if He’s busy right now getting His second choice up to speed.

              Another example of that this week, also in my scripture reading – the Gibeonites.

              People of Israel, after God set them free from slavery and they decided not to trust Him when they reached the Promised Land the first time, spent forty years wandering the desert, we know this. They get to Canaan the second time and still haven’t quite learned their lesson—Jericho miraculously falls, then a much smaller force at Ai hands Joshua and company their hats, turns out Achen didn’t want to be obedient and everybody suffered.

              They get Achen straightened out (see the book of Joshua for all this) and God helps them defeat Ai.

              Worth noting. Though it was just one man who sinned the whole people suffered and the first time against Ai they were on their own. Once the sin was atoned for, even though they got it wrong before, God was with them for the second round.

             

They weren’t done making mistakes though. Specifically the Gibeonites.

              See, (Joshua 9) everybody in the area knew what had happened at Ai and Jericho (and with the Egyptians, forty years earlier; when the spies enter Jericho Rahab is like “Where’ve you guys been? We’ve been afraid of you for a generation”, showing God had made the way clear for the Israelites to take the land the first time) and the kingdoms gather to fight back. Hittites, Amorites, Canaanites, Perizzites, Hivites, Jebusites. Band together to stand against Israel.

              The Gibeonites see this and think maybe discretion is the better part of valor, and—significant, this—decide that despite everybody else joining together to stand against Israel, that these chosen folk are probably the ones to bet on. Make a plan to trick Joshua and his army.

              I’ll let you read the details but they act very shrewdly, and—here’s the kicker—Joshua falls for it. Scripture (Joshua 9:14) makes sure to mention that the Israelites did not ask counsel from the LORD.

              They forgot that part and were duly tricked; the Gibeonites, turned out, weren’t from far away, they were from next door and were part of the “everyone in the land” that God had commanded be destroyed.

              But once the deception was revealed, it was too late; Joshua had given his word that they were under Israelite protection.

             

That in and of itself is interesting—even when the given word turned out to contradict God’s command, that does not offer excuse for Joshua to take it back. ‘“We have sworn to them by the LORD, the God of Israel, and now we may not touch them.”’ – Joshua 9:19 ESV

              Jesus said during the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5) that we ought not to make oaths, let our yes and no be enough. This is one example of how that sort of thing can bite a person in the tuchus.

              Anyway—Joshua didn’t ask God what was going on, made a rash oath, had to live with it. (The Gibeonites were made woodcutters, waterbearers instead of being utterly destroyed which they reportedly accepted happily)

              Here’s the interesting part.

              Joshua and company screwed up. They weren’t supposed to spare the Gibeonites. Then when they found out about all this the five kings of the Amorites came together to make war against Gibeon. Which meant they were making war against Israel.

              Seems not unreasonable that God could have left them to their troubles. “You made this oath, you live with it. Call me if you survive.”

             

But no. We’re in Joshua 10 by now, and when the Gibeonites learn the Amorite Kings desire to eat their lunch, as it were, and send emissaries to Joshua begging for help, begging him to remember his oath, this time Joshua does talk to God about it. (Learned his lesson, maybe)

              ‘And the LORD said to Joshua, “Do not fear them, for I have given them into your hands. Not a man of them shall stand before you.” – Joshua 10:8 ESV

              There follows yet another fantastic story where God fights the battle, pushing the enemy into a panic and, for a chaser, throwing stones down from heaven upon them. “There were more who died because of the hailstones than the sons of Israel killed with the sword.” – Joshua 10:11b ESV

              “Cool story, Will. God is amazing. What’s your point?”

              My point is that Joshua screwed up but God didn’t abandon him. In fact God came alongside Joshua once he got his head on straight and aided him supernaturally, in a battle he wasn’t even supposed to be fighting.

              Nobody ever knows what would have happened, if the Gibeonites would have sided with the other ites mentioned earlier or what, but they were never supposed to be Israel’s allies.

              Yet once they were, for all it was a foolish decision, God was still with Joshua.

              I know I’ve gotten things wrong. I’m not aware of anything God has told me to do, where writing is concerned, that I haven’t done.

              He said write and I challenge anybody to tell me I haven’t. He said write a blog and here we are at Episode 220. He said write screenplays and I have six so far.

              He said don’t go looking for an agent, not if I want His best, and I’ve obeyed.

              He said don’t try to kick doors down with movie studios, not if I want His best, and I’ve obeyed.

              He said tell your Hollywood Associate that you have screenplays and I did.

              I’m not aware of anything He’s told me to do that I haven’t been faithful in.

              But not perfectly so.

              Scripture says anything not of faith is sin. Which means unbelief is sin. And if I had a nickel for every time I’ve struggled to believe, up to and including around 2A.M. this very morning…

              I have not done this perfectly. And (isn’t it ironic, don’t you think?) one of the big struggles of unbelief for me is the fear that if I don’t do it perfect I’ll ruin what God is doing.

              Even when that isn’t riding me there’s it’s little brother, the worry that somebody else is supposed to do something and if they don’t then it’ll still never happen.

              So to read about the Gibeonites for the who-knows-how-manyth time and this time realize what I said above, “Hey, Joshua got it wrong but God didn’t turn His back on him…”

              William took great comfort from that today.

             

A minister I’m fond of says, often, “God ain’t had nobody perfect working for Him yet.”

              It’s not about never getting it wrong. That goal is unattainable.

              We seek His will, we do what He tells us, we stay on the path.

              And trust His promises.

              Speaking of Joshua, and others sometimes delaying God’s will—it wasn’t God’s best for the Israelites to hike around for forty years. God paved the way and they could have gone right in had they believed. But for all Joshua (and Caleb) had to cool their heels in the desert for forty years…God was still faithful. And they still saw the fulfillment of His every promise. Eventually.

Beyond today’s included pictures being all pretty and stuff, there’s also a hidden message.

              Yeah, a foot of snow fell yesterday. But Spring is nonetheless coming.

              Read these next verses this week too.

              “So the LORD gave Israel all the land He had sworn to give their forefathers, and they took possession of it and settled there. The LORD gave them rest on every side, just as He had sworn to their forefathers. Not one of their enemies withstood them; the LORD handed all their enemies over to them. Not one of all the LORD’s good promises to the house of Israel failed; every one was fulfilled.” – Joshua 21:43-45 NIV

              All the land. On every side. Not one of their enemies. Not one of all the LORD’s good promises.

              Every one was fulfilled.

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