After a long day of waiting and checking the website, the results finally came in. Pleroma didn’t make the cut. The two reviewers who read the first 5,000 words of the manuscript did not feel that it was strong enough to make it to the Quarterfinals.
Now what?
Option 1: sink into despair. Tell myself, “I knew I wasn’t any good.” And never write again.
Option 2: play mind games and convince myself that it was all because the reviewers had a bad day. Tell myself it is an amazing manuscript and press forward, doing whatever it takes to get this book to the world.
Option 3: relax. Reconnect to the truth about this manuscript. The reason I wrote it was to give it to my children as a Christmas present two years ago. I accomplished that goal. I can rest in a calm satisfaction at setting out to do something, and doing it.
I like option 3.
It’s funny how God has ways of reinforcing this type of message in our lives. This morning I woke up, I must admit, soaking in a little pool of self-pity. I went to bed disappointed and sleep had not expunged the feeling. Yet, I pulled myself out of bed and engaged in the normal early morning routine. Let the dog out, eat banana, pour a cup of coffee, and plop in front of the computer to upload the day’s “Food for Thought” on Vibblespace.
Now, keep in mind, the articles that I am posting on that site were written in 2003. I wrote them during the first year of Hart Haus (the house church we started in Vegas) while I was still self-employed full time as an illustrator. Here I am, seven years later, on day 3 of week 12, in a daily routine of recycling these articles, and what does God say to me, through my own words?
Check this out. This is from the food for thought regarding the story of Hannah giving Samuel to the Lord:
God is not messing around; He wants the best of all that we have. He wants the firstborn of our lives, not the left-overs. In our culture this is true, but especially in the ancient world the firstborn son was everything to a family. The firstborn son received the inheritance of the father and carried the family name on into the next generation. By offering your firstborn to the Lord you were literally saying, “Lord, you own everything I have.”
God still asks us for our firstborn, even if we don’t have a physical child. He wants the firstborn ambitions, the firstborn fruit; He wants the best of all that you have. Too many times we tend to give the best of what we have to the taskmasters of the world who don’t love us, don’t care for us, but give us money to put food on the table. We give the world our best, and then drag our weary self into the presence of God…if we feel like it. We don’t give God the first because we are afraid that if we give it to Him, then we won’t have enough to pay the bills and meet our commitments at work and in the world. God promises us that if we will trust Him enough to give Him the first of what we have, that He will more than take care of the rest.
In many ways, Pleroma is my firstborn child. It was conceived in college. The main character was orginally named Jamin, long before my son Jamin was born. I’ve carried this story with me for over twenty years. Over the past couple years I have allowed the idea of getting published to creep into my heart and distract me a little. I kept giving lip service to having only written it for the Christmas gift, but deep inside I really wanted it to become something special. That deep need to be special and the desire to receive accolades is an insidious beast that lurks behind every bush, and page.
I needed this loss – again. God is a patient and loving parent. He lets me follow my whims, but when it is time to get back to business, he cuts me off. I’m failing as an idependent business man/freelance illustrator. I’m failing as a writer. But, I’m not a failure. Those are just things. Just stuff.
Once again, I need to listen to the things I teach other people. Each day we must wake up and pray this simple prayer, “Kill me, Fill me, Spill me.” God, your kingdom come. Your will be done. Give us today our daily bread. Forgive me as I forgive others.
It’s simple. It’s God’s. And it is rich.
Will I stop writing? No. I enjoy it. I’ll write the second book. And probably the third. But I won’t worry about it.
Remind me of that next year, please. I know God will.
