I am a writer
Writing is one of the methods of service assigned to me, like husband, father, deacon, businessman, Athenian, and the like.
To abondon my ministry and affection for my wife, to abscond from deaconly duties, to go to the gas station for milk and cigs, to take money for services unrendered, to slap the mayor in anger, all would be choices fraught with disobedience to God, and would qualify this poor and gamey meat popsicle for a trip between the bristling jaws of bahamut.
Grace covers the rediscovery of my call to write words (and tell stories, though that has been neglected less), and now I must act – as if my marriage to words is reaffirmed, my fatherhood to letters is re-engaged, my employment to paragraphs graciously returned.
Each written work of mine must point to the shape of the True Story evident in the many works which compose the Bible. As God provided means for Rahab to become aware of His specific actions, and thus faced with His Reality she made the righteous choice, so now the Bible stands as witness to all who would seek. This raises up the work of literacy, translation, and teaching the True Story to a very noble work indeed.
For me to write – testaments to Him, stories – and point to His story, is one way to add my note to the song of creation.
We glimpse only parts of Him
Creation sings, screams, jubilates constantly the presence of a Creator so vastly good and intelligent and creative that said Being cannot simply be described as good, smart, and rather inventive; whatever the immense nature of this Being is, the Being is the Origin and Definition of Good, of Knowledge, of Beauty, and any other meager categories shrunk from their vast and holisitic original supreme form to fit within the human mind.
We only recognize these traits as sparks scattered throughout. If a dinner is good, we have experienced something which constantly originates from The One, not only Lord of Reality, but also its Maker and Sustainer. Al this is an act done both for us and Him; and done for us, it is grace. It is not deserved by us, nor in any way is He obligated to continue this at any point.
If we think this unfair, the question is – what are you going to do about it?
Run, and you will find yourself as a hamster in a cage.
Hide, and you will find His perfect knowledge every-where.
Fight, and you will only manage to craft weapons which wound yourself in the making.
Exhaust these possibilities and perhaps you will reconsider surrender.
God could, if He wanted, make surrender a deeply cruel process, beyond the imaginations of the most brutal warlords, fear-mongers, and merchants of depraved violence.
However, he does not do this.
He is Power, Justice, Creativity, Goodness, Beauty, and Knowledge, incarnate. He is, also, love.
He tells us, in no uncertain terms, and in the most certain of actions across human ages, that He – who is One – desires mercy over justice.
And He made a Way. A Way we can walk in Truth, and receive Life.
And that is enough
Any honest person will have at least a beginner’s account of their faults. God created a universe, a planet, a varied humanity, where he chose to demonstrate His love for us and for mercy by arriving as the King of the world without much of a red carpet. Rejected by most, he died as a human. His death makes us as good as him (that is, free from sin), if we will receive it.
And! He did not remain dead, for if he is Lord and President and Judge Exemplar and King over all aspects of His creation, death is but a leaf on the wind of His breath, a stream diverted by His beavers, a pen-stroke utterly at his command.
He loves us. And He shouts it through the cosmos and clouds and creeks.
This shout fo love bears His Immensity. He who forms us is the Master and Sustainer and Creator of every jot and order and droplet. As the jar to the potter (a potter who adores his jars), shall we not thank Him and enjoy the good gift of salvation – where He brings us into Himself?
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