Sorry to all my subscribers for the double posting today, but I promised I’d route you over to Nicole Miller’s blog so you could read a little about the story behind my Operation First Novel finalist, Breaking Free, formerly known as Impossible Choices. Last night I watched a DVD my editor at Christ to the World, Art Criscoe, produced and in it, he talked about the beauty and freedom of grace. He used two illustrations that were very powerful: One was that of a bird in a cage. The bird represents us, enslaved by sin, prior to Christ. But then, he opened the cage and although he didn’t use a live bird, the audience could envision this previously caged animal suddenly taking flight and soaring on the wind. Next, he had the audience sing the first line in Amazing Grace. Do you remember it? “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me.” Then he paused and asked a very heart-pricking question: What does grace sound like? And in answer, he picked up a long metal chain and dropped it in a box.

What does grace sound like? It sounds like wings taking flight. It sounds like a melody released from a once bound throat. It sounds like chains falling as the redeemed step out to walk in newness of life.

Earlier today one of my friends asked a question that seems to swirl around the Christian writing community. What can writers write about and just how real should our novels be? In my story, Breaking Free, I write about the enslaved, and God’s love for them. Because truly, we’re all in need of grace. Or, as I wrote on my one sheet, we’ve all got inner demons. Some just scream louder than others. But the good news is God is bigger than our sin and when Christ sets us free, we are free indeed!

Once we’ve been set free, our job is to show others where to go to find that same freedom. Jesus alone offers freedom.

Visit Nicole Miller’s To the Heart of History to find out more.

(If you are interested in watching the DVD, shoot me an email and I’ll see what I can do.)

I have a dear friend who is going through some unimaginable difficulties. When we speak, I am often at a loss as to what to say, primarily because I have no clue what it would feel like. Oh, I can imagine, but I know whatever I imagine pales in comparison to the emotions she faces daily. One Sunday, while at church, I stopped to ask a friend to pray for her. During our conversation, I shared a bit of what my friend was going through–the emotions she had shared with me. Not because I was looking for a solution, or advice, but because I wanted friend number two to understand so she could pray effectively.

I was told I “needed to help her…” and was then given instructions on how I needed to help her see truth.

Romans 12:15 “Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.”

Funny thing was, my friend wasn’t failing to see truth. She was sharing what she was feeling openly and honestly. And what she needed wasn’t someone to bombard her with advice, but instead, someone to cry with her.

Through out my life I have had many “friends” speak truth, but few have stuck around when I needed them most. And on my end, I’ve crushed many, many friends by letting my mouth run. After I’ve dealt the painful blows, usually spoken in pride, I am reminded of something our pastor in Louisiana used to say, “Don’t try to be the Holy Spirit in someone else’s life.”

Think about that for a moment. True, we are to speak truth to one another and there does come a time when we must say the hard thing, but I wonder if perhaps that time arises much less frequently than we presume. Often the best course of action is to provide a listening ear and point our friends back to Jesus. Because the goal is not to encourage them to rely on us and come to us for wisdom. The goal is to encourage them to develop a closer walk with God, learning to hear His voice and seek His comfort. Because quite honestly, He’ll do a much better job than we will.

The book of Job is a perfect example. Job’s friends felt the need to correct Job’s thinking, to show him the error of his ways, but what Job really needed was someone to stand by him, to say, “I love you,” and “You aren’t alone.”

So the next time you are tempted to bombard a hurting friend with truth, pause and pray, and point them back to Jesus instead. He is their comfort. He is their friend who sticks closer than a brother. And He alone knows the best way to minister to His children. Then, if after considerable prayer, you still feel the need to speak the words that are burning on your tongue, do so, but do it with gentleness, love and humility.

 

 

 

 

Normally, I stick with devos and other life applications, but this has been quite the topic swimming around the ACFW loop lately. I’ve also noticed this topic appear on numerous blogs within the past week, so…yep…I’m jumping on the bandwagon. And since about 70 percent of my subscribers are writers (intimidating, yes), I thought this might be a topic of interest to you.

This morning as I was critiquing a manuscript sent over the scribes loop, I realized about half of the first page could be cut. It was all telling–recapping. So how do you explain the difference between showing versus telling? I love the illustration one author provided. She encouraged us to think about a theater production. In drama, you don’t have the luxury of explaining how the character feels and there’s no way to provide background information except through action (via flashbacks) and dialogue. So, when we write, it helps to envision our characters as actors on a stage. If you were directing them, what would you tell them to do? How would you encourage them to reveal the desired emotions?

When you write, you want your reader so involved in your characters they feel exactly what your characters are feeling. They see as if through the eyes of the character and draw conclusions as they would if they were watching the story unfold on the screen. (Meaning, we must resist the urge to spell out the conclusions for them. Example, if your character slams their fist on the table, there’s no need to say, “He was angry.”)

Allow me to give an example. In my Operation First Novel finaling manuscript, Breaking Free (formally known as Impossible Choices) a big part of the story revolves around Alice’s insecurities. She feels unattractive and blames herself for her husband’s emotional withdrawal. Unaware that her insecurities are the result of wounds inflicted early in childhood and that her perception of the present is based largely on those insecurities (and the lies she’s come to believe about herself) she assumes her feelings are caused by events in the present. This may sound a bit confusing, and I don’t want to venture too far off topic here except to say we will act in accordance with who we believe we are and will often interpret the present based on past experiences and our beliefs about ourselves and our role in this world. Meaning, if you assume people are out to get you, perhaps because you were mistreated as a child, you will see injustice in day-to-day encounters. Similarly, if you have experienced a steady dose of love and acceptance as a child, you will likely assume people like you. When they behave inappropriately, because you assume you yourself are likeable, you draw the conclusion that the issue must lie with them.

Okay, so how does this translate to showing vs. telling? Back to my example. In my story, Alice (my heroine) struggles with insecurity, and believes she is unworthy and unlovable. So, when her husband pulls away, she assumes it is because of something she’s done, or hasn’t done. If only she were prettier, more exciting, more alluring, her husband would stay home, wouldn’t drink, all those things.

Yet, my reader doesn’t want to hear all that. That’d be like sitting through someone else’s therapy session. Ugh! But if I design scenes to show this, perhaps by having my heroine join a gym, tug at her clothes in an attempt to hide her stomach, and pop Lean Cuisines in the microwave, the reader begins to feel what Alice feels. Hence, there is no reason to tell them.

Similarly, when revealing emotions, I don’t want my reader to know Alice is scared. I want to make them scared with her. I want to make their pulse race, spine tingle with adrenaline, and their muscles tense.

But how do I do that? First, by telling an excellent, vibrant, and descriptive story. This involves carefully selecting details that set the desired tone. For example, if I want my reader (who has become my main character) to feel joy, I can weave enticing or comforting aromas, sounds, and images into the scene. Perhaps children giggling on a sloping hill, or a hummingbird flittering among fragrant rose bushes.

And here’s one that somewhat makes me laugh. You want to demonstrate surprise, so you tell the reader, “The sound of a slamming door surprised her.” Or, “Her thoughts were disrupted by the sound of an approaching car.”

How about you immerse the reader in the thoughts of the character, then jolt them out with the sound of an approaching car? Meaning, reveal the thoughts, then, bam! Reveal the sound, “A car door slammed. She turned…”

See, you don’t need to tell us her thoughts were disrupted because our thoughts are disrupted as well.

I’d love to hear you thoughts on this, and perhaps I will address it more later. But for now…back to that critique I told you all about.

Tomorrow I’ll route you to a friend’s blog so you can hear a bit more about Alice, her story, and why I wrote it.

Yesterday while surfing the internet I stumbled across some disturbing information on an evangelical personality I once admired. It seems, if the articles are true, this individual has wandered from the faith and is preaching a message contrary to the gospel. I’ve seen this happen before, and not just among public figures. As people “mature” in their faith, often they’ll slide into one of two extremes: either they’ll fall too far into grace, denying justice; or they’ll surround themselves with rules and regulations.

Both extremes are dangerous and contrary to the truth, and I can’t help but wonder if both are rooted in human pride. Human pride elevates man to the extent that justice seems unheard of, or, on the other extreme, elevates man to the extent that he thinks he can somehow earn God’s favor.

And yet, I think this tendency reveals an even deeper issue–man’s depravity. From the beginning of time, man has rebelled against truth, finding ways to twist it to fit our agenda and understanding. The moment we think we are above this–the moment we begin to rely on our understanding, we are in danger of falling.

So how can we avoid this delusional progression?

1. Approach God’s Word with humility. I think one of our greatest faults, as humans, lies in the need to understand, and explain everything. Not everything has an explanation, and if the explanation isn’t there and we assign one, we are crossing the line and elevating man.

Here’s an example. Walk into any seminary and you’ll find shelves upon shelves of commentaries on the book of Job in man’s attempt to explain why Job suffered–to explain God’s purpose in it. But what did God say when asked? He didn’t go into a long dissertation on suffering and the sovereignty of God. Instead, He reminded Job that some things were beyond his understanding. (Read Job 38-41)

That isn’t to say we shouldn’t discuss biblical passages and theological issues, but we must do so with a heavy dose of humility, being careful not to make the Bible say what it doesn’t say.

2. We must understand that the Bible is a unit. One of the first things I learned at Calvary was the need to read biblical passages in terms of context. We quote so many verses out of context, often assigning meanings that were never intended. This, again, elevates man by conforming the Bible to fit our ideas instead of conforming our ideas to the Bible.

Lately I’ve noticed a trend to deny the existence of hell. To do so, you must throw out large portions of the Bible. You must throw out direct quotes from Jesus. And any time you start cherry picking which truths you rely on, you’ve become your own God. You’ve become your own basis for truth. Considering the human heart is deceptive, that is a very dangerous place to be.

I’ve also noticed the opposite side of this trend emerge–those who want to assign rules and regulations God never intended. This also elevates man.

3. Recognize your ability to err. It often amazes me how much I thought I knew before I started taking Bible classes. The first thing I learned was half of what I thought I knew I really didn’t know, and the more I learn, the more I realize I don’t know. That doesn’t mean I throw my hands up in nihilism, but it does mean I speak with humility, recognizing that I could very easily be wrong. It also means, at times, I keep my mouth shut.

4. Recognize your position before a Holy God. We speak so casually about eternal things. God will hold us accountable for every casual word spoken.

5. Stay in community. Isolation leads to deception. If everyone else in your Bible study disagrees with you, consider the possibility that you are the one in error. If you are feeling tempted to pull away and isolate, recognize this is not from God. God desires believers to live in community. Satan wants us to live in isolation because then we are wide open for attack. This doesn’t mean we will always agree with everything our church or church members believe, but even when we disagree, we should do so with a healthy dose of humility, recognizing that we very well could be wrong.

I have a mentor. She acts as my safeguard. She doesn’t care how many people read my blog, how many articles I sell, or if I write the next best seller. She cares about one thing–my walk with Christ, and she’s committed to hold me accountable.

6. Pray, pray, pray. I’ve shared before, but I often pray Romans 12:1-2 out loud, asking God to daily transform my thinking, helping me resist the downward spiral of cultural influences. My desire is not that I would conform to the practices, ideologies, and opinions of the world around me, but instead, that I would be daily transformed by the renewal of my mind, so that I will know and understand God’s good, pleasing and perfect will.

The Slattery family’s been leveled by the flu, so today’s post is going to be short and sweet. Okay, so maybe just short. Today was our daughter’s first day back to school after spending nearly a week in bed and as we waited for the clock to turn, signaling it was time for her to go, she curled into my arms. Those unhurried moments when “calling in” is as easy as setting my computer aside remind me how blessed I am to stay home.

I’m not quite sure when I started writing. I’ve always enjoyed it, although I never thought much of it. But one day, a few years ago as I was happily typing on my computer, listening to our daughter and her friends chatter a few rooms away, I realized what a blessing God had provided in my keyboard. I was given the opportunity to stay home, making use of my free time, setting projects aside when time ran short in order to be fully present when my family needed me most.

May I always cherish this precious gift God has provided.