Beware the Writer

(reposted from my author's blog)

When you really want answers, and you ask for them (Ask and you shall receive) you may not always be prepared for them. This can be a difficult thing for the parent who has been praying for answers about their child, and finds herself gasping for air when the cold water hits. But it isn't always bad. I think not knowing is worse.

So often, we are so busy with the business of living that we don't take time to stop and say, "Hey! I need to pray about this. I need to ask the Father for some answers, for the light to break at the end of the tunnel, for..." Well, you know. That's just how it is sometimes. It's the enemy's dance and he's enjoying it. Faster, faster... that's right! He smiles, puffing a big cigar.

It may have been yesterday morning, it may have been today, I found myself asking. "What's the next step for marketing the book and the album? You led me, You gave me the songs (even though some would rather have me say, they were inspired), You showed me what to write. And I believe You have more songs for me, because I sing them every morning and that means more finances to produce them, but You are my provider... and as You know, I am not doing any concerts right now, or book signings, or whatever You want me to do. So, I believe You will show me what You want me to do... thank You, Father."

When I arrived at the school where I teach, there was a new substitute across the hall. A nice enough guy, it seemed. Dressed appropriately for any other day, but today was Friday, and "We pay into a scholarship fund so we can wear jeans on Friday," I told him, explaining my jeans. He nodded, proceeded to tell me he'd come from a Bible study, and in a few minutes more I learned he was also a singer and a worship leader. Not having a lot of time to think, I tucked it away with a this may be a path to pursue, and determined I'd ask him later what kind of music, if he also wrote music, etc.

When lunch time came, I asked, "So where do you lead worship?" He mentioned a conservative denomination. "That's nice. I'm a singer-songwriter and I'm always interested to hear what other singers are involved in."

He nodded again and his eyes dropped from my eyes to somewhere between my waist and my knees, then he turned and walked away.

I was glad I was wearing my wool jacket, even though it was a little itchy on my neck. At least I was able to warm up again. I pulled it tighter.

Okeedokee, I thought. Moving on. I closed my door and took a seat at my desk. A new email was in my inbox. It came through the contact form at one of the music community websites, one I'd only rejoined a week ago. It was from a young woman at a  marketing company for Christian musicians wanting to inform me of a new opportunity, so I checked their website and requested more information.  In a return email, she said she liked my website and wondered that I didn't have a Twitter account... (OK - I've just been waiting for a good reason to have one, so I do now). She told me exactly how her company could help and how reasonable it would be. By evening, another marketing company had contacted me about my book (not quite as reasonable, but not crazy either).

So, I guess this weekend, I'll be spending more time in His presence, following the direction He's been taking me, exploring Twitter, and hoping that those who really love God won't mind if I wear jeans to work on Fridays to support the student scholarship fund.

And I hesitate to add…

Many are cyber-bashing an 82-year old film icon right now who could probably care less. Many are debating whether his rambling and impromptu address to a chair was a blessing or a boon to the Republican side. Clint Eastwood was speaking from a unique perspective that we may not all understand, but have to respect. His is the generation that fought a war against socialist and fascist aggressions. But many of his critics wouldn't know anything about that.
 

Some think Eastwood’s performance was fodder for the opposition. There was certainly no polished pretense. He certainly didn’t have Hollywood Hair. But having just returned from a visit with my only surviving family member of that generation, who is two years older than Clint, I think his appearance at the RNC was refreshingly real. It resounded with wit and wisdom many in our day may never completely grasp. I will admit I haven’t taken the time to fully figure it out, but here’s what I did notice: Here in the midst of changing times, riding in on our love of all things Old West was an icon that reached to our roots and reason.

His address to an empty chair inferred that the seat of authority in our nation might as well be empty. The promises made by the one who-was-not-there-when-he-should-have-been were likewise empty. The assertion that we are the real ‘owner-operators’ of this country further drove home the point. We don’t need someone who isn’t doing their job in our country/company. We have too many chairs in America filled with people who aren’t doing their job, holding positions they really didn't earn, but they’re fooling people into thinking they are. And many hard-working Americans have lost jobs and the futures they worked hard for, through no fault of their own. The American work ethic is a fading ideal, along with the middle class that was our pride and joy. In its place is a Grendel-like bully that eats up our courage, takes whatever it wants and defies us to do something about it.

Eastwood's response to that arrogant defiance, "I can't do that to myself" was a typically characteristic remark to the insult. That is exactly what the empty-promising chair of the country has effectively been delivering to those whose reality is suffering because of things he evidently doesn’t know how to control, or is controlling very well. Either way, we are being affected, and Eastwood answered for us, “we can’t do that to ourselves.”  

The Old West was a place where lawlessness was prevalent, and sometimes  “men” had to take matters into their own hands to protect themselves and the things they loved. Clint Eastwood knew what to do. I think he still does.

So, let them twitter and tweet. One of the highest tributes anyone can give a creative individual is to debate what they have done. It stirs up attention. The words of many brilliant people are still being pondered. Mark Twain comes to mind; Huck Finn has been a controversial stroke of genius from its first publication to this day, 124 years later. But, the words of fools will die before they do.

Costly Mistakes

Costly Mistakes -

We've all made them. It may be forgetting to make a payment, or a deposit, or as was the case for me on my recent trip to the nation’s capital, not reading the signs quite carefully enough. But, standing in the lovely sunlit garden outside the Smithsonian Castle, I was so deeply aware of the peace that passes understanding, it didn't seem to matter that my car was missing. God wasn't.

The civil authorities were really quite civil, too. The security guard encouraged me not to lose my joy, and the parking authorities politely informed me that my car had simply been "relocated" to another street within walking distance. It was, however, decorated with a couple of tickets, which will cost me $200.

Frankly, there are lots of things costing $200 that I don't think I can afford. Still, I didn't once think about what a miserable failure I was for not being smart enough to figure out that the reason there was no fee for parking between 4 and 6:30 pm was because there was NO Parking allowed in that area during that time. I just valued the blessed, peaceful presence more. Losing that would have been the costly mistake. Besides, God is my provider.