Monday, March 29, 2010

The Author


As I got up from my chair, shivers of anxiety and excitement thrilled my soul. I stopped typing, my hands lifted from the keys, and I moved into the chair next to the computer. A man was standing next to me and as soon as I had taken my seat in the other chair, he took my previous seat, put his hands on the keyboard and started typing away. I watched the letters dance on the screen as he typed a brilliant story full of wonder, learning, passion, and sometimes pain. However, some parts started getting monotonous so I tried to speak up. “Would you like your chair back?” He asked. “No, no, please continue.” After that the monotony didn’t stop, and then he started to write things that sounded completely awful; heartbreak, separation, but worse—more monotony. The typing stopped. He looked at me and said, “Wait right there, I’m going to get a drink of water. Do not touch the computer.” He got up and left the room. I knew that even though the story sounded a little bit boring, and was not what I wanted to see, I couldn’t touch the keys. I had given up control and deep down, I knew this story was the best that could be written. However I kept reading more of the story and his writing style didn’t match up with mine. He got way to descriptive and I saw entire paragraphs that could be omitted. So I just reached over from my chair and hit backspace a couple times. Then I saw this sentence that was really arduous so I decided to rewrite it and spice it up a little. Then the fact that he had stopped mid-sentence overtook me and I had to finish his sentence. Pretty soon I was in the chair and typing again, faster and with a control-stricken fury. Time had passed, I wasn’t sure how much time, but I knew it was more time that it took to get a drink of water. I got up, walked to the kitchen, but he was nowhere to be found. Terror struck my mind and rattled my nerves. Did I drive him away? Would I be alone once more? I ran back over to the computer in a daze. He was sitting in my chair with his hands on the keys prepared to write. He smiled and told me to sit down. As I got in my chair, he said, “You changed some things.” My face dimmed with shame. “Yes.” I muttered. “Not bad.” He said. Puzzled I looked up at him and said, “Really?” With a hint of sadness in his eyes he told me. “It’s not bad, but it certainly isn’t that good. I was just getting to the good part and you changed it. I can’t hit backspace, but if you want I will keep typing. However, the good part will have to wait.” I couldn’t believe how foolish I had been. The weight of the damage I had done by hitting a few keys struck me full force. “You really will continue?” I asked, surprised that he wasn’t furious with me. “I will continue as long as you will give me this chair. You have touched my story, tried to put in your input as if I had been mistaken. But, you forget that it is I who created you, who shaped you, who first loved you and awoke love within you. You forget that I created all this, and you forget my character. You don’t trust that I am good, that I am caring, that I am love. Even though you forget, and even though you will forget again, as long as you will let me, I will stay in this chair. And even when you forget, when you get angry with me, when you take control, I will not forget about you. My grace will still be there for you. My love will still be burning for you. Trust my story, Kyle. Trust that I know how to write, that I love you, that I know what is best for you. Stop worrying, stop critiquing and just live in my story.” With tears welling in my eyes I buried my face in His shoulder and apologized for not trusting despite His goodness that He has proved time and time again. He just put His hand on my shoulder and said, “Stop feeling sorry, get out there and live the words that I am writing for you. Live in my story, embrace my adventures, shine through the world’s pain, and get lost in love.”


I am in the middle of about four different books right now. One of them I just started. It is a really great book and really great story that has sold millions of copies, but sometimes the author’s writing style sometimes annoys me. He can get lost on less-than-important tangents and can get too caught up in his descriptive words. I feel like taking my red pen to the book and making it more concise. This morning I was thinking about my life and reading another book about God authoring my story. I thought about how I sometimes want to take my red pen to God’s story and throw in my stellar human input. I realized how foolish this was and things started to fall into perspective. I am at the perfect age for worrying about my future. I am especially worried at the rest of this year. But, with this kick in the rear God gave me, I feel more at peace. I feel more ready to trust His plan for my life. I feel less afraid, knowing that God is going to catapult me into a great adventure and use me to do something worthwhile. I just have to trust. I can only trust Him if I know Him. I have to remember His character and daily choose to die with Him, and daily choose to live in His love.


  1. You are a great author, but you are right. God is an even better one. I love you my son!

  2. Thanks Kyle, I liked this post very much!