Creativity part 2

OK, God, I think I’ve got my main character created – not from some man’s rib but in my imagination. That is, I know her vital statistics – where she lives, approximate age, career, etc. Still unsure of her name though. But what I really need now is to breathe some life into her. 

I need to know how she ticks. What she thinks. How she reacts in various situations. 

I need her back story. Why she thinks as she does. Why she reacts as she does.

So as I head for the car for a spot of childminding, I shall explore some options and see if, with your help, her lungs will begin to inflate and her brain will reveal some of its mysteries to me.

Not all writing is done at the desk. Somehow I need to get into this character’s skin.

Makes me think of someone else. You, Father God. You got into human skin so you could better identify with our temptations, our weaknesses, and save us from ourselves. Thank you. So grateful. Thank you. 

My aim is much less lofty. That is, I don’t intend to save this character or anyone else. But I would love it, Lord, if with your help someone in the future will read her story and through it, see you in all your glory, and receive your salvation.

Amen and amen.

I can't hear you!

It was a glorious, stunning morning. A beautiful day, right up until second dog walk time about 3 pm, when the clouds gathered and a coolness gripped the air. 

A car passed me, slowly, with a bike rack on its back. The driver stopped in the lane down which Dusty and I usually walk. A white haired gentleman. We exchanged pleasantries about the weather beginning to break and he explained he’d dropped his wife off further along the road to cycle. He was supposed to pick her up at the end of the road, but given the impending rain, he thought he should wait half way along it. He wished me a pleasant walk, and we carried on our way.

I’d not gone far when I heard the sound of a woman’s voice, slightly raised, rather irritated. I think she was berating him for waiting in the wrong place, and then she called out loudly, “I can’t hear a word you are saying!” as she cycled past him.

She obviously hadn’t noticed me and thought she was alone with her husband in the middle of nowhere.

What a shame, that someone who was only thinking of his wife’s comfort should be soundly berated by her. How often that happens, that we snap an irritated retort off to the ones we love the most, without really understanding them. How often we bite the ones we love, and put on a show of sweetness to those we barely know.

How often we do that to our heavenly Father, too. He makes an adjustment to our circumstances, or allows our situation to change, and we shout at him, assuming he’s just got it wrong and concluding he doesn’t really have our best interest at heart. We may even pound on past him, metaphorically speaking, shouting that we can’t hear him, without ever pausing to listen.

When was the last time you took time out to listen to God? When was the last time you really listened to those you love? 

I took an hour this morning to listen to God. Now I’m trying to listen more carefully throughout the day to him, so I don’t race on by on my own trajectory and ignore a change he perhaps wants to make to it. 

My plan is to try to listen more carefully to those I love, too. So hold me to it.