Have you ever had days when you keep thinking about a book you shouldn’t write? Maybe I’m alone on this, but I don’t really think so.
I read a dystopian novel the other day—one among several so a glance through my GoodReads list won’t help you. 🙂 But it struck me that, although I generally enjoyed the book, some people can’t really imagine what bad really is.
Separation from a boyfriend? That can totally be painful. But that doesn’t rate something dystopian.
But what got triggered in my imagination is just how things could turn in this world. The overlooked things revolving around what we take for granted. The further twistings of an already twisted, over-simplified time.
Anyway, part of me thinks I could have written chapters. Short, dark, dismal chapters.
It didn’t have a plot per se. More a question: what could it look like when Christians learn, truly are taught painful lesson by painful less, the differences between comforts and blessings?
Sigh. It took me to places both shallow and deep. I’m thankful I’m out from under it now. But all those thoughts have left a sadness. Which too shall pass, but perhaps no more quickly than these false, dark days that surround us.
Anyway, I don’t plan to write it. Who would it serve? Why write just to be depressing? Why toy with despair?! Why tempt people to think, “Ah, maybe now I’ll be prepared. I take comfort!” just to have Satan laugh at how gullible we can be.
If you’ve ever considered scripting a book you shouldn’t write, I’m sure there are lessons from the thoughts and experience of it. I’m not saying it can’t or shouldn’t happen. Maybe it precisely should. But maybe the lesson I’ll leave you with today, if you’ll pardon my presumption of wisdom on this, is that actually it is liberating to be free not to write. We may be passionate people. We may be thought-people and thought-sharers. Still, we can rest in the knowledge and reassurance that God will handle things just fine using Jesus’ hands and not your personal or professional keyboard. 🙂
I know, I know. All you pastors out there, hemming and hawing. Admittedly, your vocation is an interconnecting, complex one. Even so. Why write books that shouldn’t be written? To see if we can? Eh. Better to consider our neighbors, both those neglected when we get into our writing sprees and the souls who would spend time reading what we’ve written.
Happy reading & writing, folks. I’m almost to a place of mind where I can review, and I have read maybe five Lutheran books by now I could review. Please wish me health as I’m still apparently getting over whatever’s been plaguing me and our fair county.