Couldn't He Have...?

It’s hard sometimes. It’s hard to see other people rejoicing in God’s miraculous healing when you’re still stuck in that hospital bed. It’s hard to watch God bring someone’s loved ones out of danger while your own come back in coffins or not at all. It’s hard to see God reunite families and heal broken relationships when your own are so far gone with no intention of coming back. It’s hard to struggle with a mental illness day after day while others talk about having enough faith and willpower to see their own struggles disappear without a trace. And even if you're one of the friends whose own life is blessed by God in every earthly way, it's still hard because you know others are dealing with disease, pain, famine, persecution, martyrdom, death.

It’s hard, sometimes, to believe God is who He says He is when you’re doing everything right and still nothing is working.

Jesus received word once that His dear friend Lazarus was ill. He waited two days before starting on His journey to see him, and by the time He got there Lazarus had died. He wept on His way to the tomb, and some of the Jews there said, “See how He loved him!” But others said, “Couldn’t He who opened the blind man’s eyes also have kept this man from dying?”

If you’re familiar with the Bible, you know how the story ends. Jesus was able to prove His power even more than if this were just another healing of the sick, more than if He had come at the beginning or even just snapped His fingers and allowed Lazarus to be healed.

He couldn’t have done this with another request, with the Roman centurion and his servant or Jairus and his daughter. These people didn’t know Him, and they didn’t trust Him any more than any other passerby. No, He had to wait for it to be His friends, people who loved Him and trusted Him, people who knew who He truly was. Only they trusted His power enough to allow Him to do this, and only they still trusted Him as the resurrection and the life when their brother was dead.

Only the friends of God can experience this deepest sorrow and still cling to Him. Only the friends of God can endure these dark nights of the soul without dying out altogether. Only through the friends of God can God work His finest miracles and display His greatest power.

I’m not saying that those who suffer less or who experience great shows of His power are further from God, not by any means. Jairus was a Pharisee, one of the spiritual leaders of his country. The Roman centurion was declared to have faith unequaled by any in all of Israel. It wouldn’t make any sense to say that those who experience the presence of God in miraculous ways are not as close to Him as those who never do – after all, you have to be close enough to believe that God will work in order to see any miracle as His doing.

But I think there is something to be said in the fact that those who walk the closest with God often walk the longest through the valley of the shadow of death. I think there’s something to be said in that the original apostles and many founders of the early church all died as martyrs in ways that make most cringe to think about – and God didn’t send a battalion of angels to rescue them, or even one. There’s something in the fact that spiritual giants, from Charles Spurgeon to Mother Teresa, battled depression and darkness even as they accomplished great wonders for the kingdom of God. There’s something to be said in the fact that those struggling the longest struggles and fighting the hardest fights are often those doing or destined to do the greatest works for the kingdom, and the ones who will say in the end that it was all worth it.

So if your dark night lasts longer than others, if your sorrows run deeper and your cup of joy refuses to be filled, remember that God uses His friends to display His power. He will use the darkness of His friends in ways He would never use that of those who are further from Him. He is not required to give His friends special treatment; the special treatment is for those who truly want Him to use them, and so He does. Because no story which means anything goes without darkness, and the stories which drag the hero through the deepest mud are those which have the most glorious triumphs in the end.

Start With Story

Characters are what makes a story come alive, as anyone would agree. Whether you prefer books, audiobooks, comic books, plays, movies, or TV shows, you hopefully recognize that the most compelling storyline of all time will be ruined by an unsympathetic character, a boring voice, a hated actor. Characters are what bring the story to the audience in a way they can understand, a personification of the struggles of the human race, an embodiment of good, evil, or any shade in between. A story would be dead without its characters, and so to avoid the literary morgue we must include them.

But here’s the thing about your characters: they don’t drive everything, at least not at first. I’m probably committing heresy on some level here, but the truth is that a character without a story goes nowhere. A character may be the most fabulous human, alien, animal or any other creature in existence, but if they have no story they remain in cages, dimensionless and uninteresting. Purposeless. So you have a 15-year-old high school sophomore who has a buzz cut and wears his wrestling headpiece everywhere he goes? If we want to know more about him, that more comes with story. Maybe you have a 25-year-old nursing intern with a blond ponytail, shy smile, a pair of running shoes she wears every day and a man’s name tattooed on her right bicep? If we want answers, we want story. A dad with three kids, who works at an insurance company for fifteen years even though he hates it? Story.

Even in the files we writers keep on individual characters (or maybe it’s just me?) we want to know the story. It’s nice that our female lead is an elven archer, 5’ 10”, angular face, blonde hair to her waist, piercing violet eyes, a quick runner, wears a brown cloak over a dark green tunic to blend into the forest … but see? I almost fell asleep writing that. As readers, we don’t really care as long as we get a basic image to work with. We don’t want a laundry list of the physical characteristics involved in each character. We want to know what name is tattooed on that intern’s arm and why it’s there. We want to know why the high school kid wears his wrestling headpiece all the time. We want to know what keeps the dad at this job he hates. We want to get to know the characters, not just what they look like. We want their likes and dislikes, strengths and weaknesses. We want their story.

This goes for nonfiction, too. We need to get to know the people we’re writing about, whether in reality or in our imaginations. I could tell you my height, weight, hair color, eye color, number of siblings, occupation, or location, but that doesn’t make you care about me. It describes my exterior, but has little bearing on your understanding of me – unless you’re trying to track me down, in which case I would suggest you abandon that plan immediately. But if I tell you that I’ve been writing for all my life, but never shared most of it with the world; if I say I’ve moved eight times in my lifetime; if I tell you I’ve struggled with depression for nearly three years, but have retained my faith in spite of it – you see? You know who I am more than when you began to read this. You know me better now.

And, if I were a fictional character, you would care more. You would want to know what happened, how I got to where I am today, how I’ve dealt with all the highs and lows. You would want to know what happens next, how my battles continue, how my story ends. If I were a historical figure, one you were familiar with already, you would want to know how I went from that point in my life to do the great things you know me for. If I were a friend our mutual friend was trying to describe to you, you’d wonder what effect we would have on each other and developed a friendship.

So our characters must be compelling, yes, absolutely. But what makes our characters compelling is their stories. That doesn’t mean that you explain the first time our main character sees that nursing intern that the tattoo, which includes the name “Samuel,” was designed by her boyfriend who died in a tragic car accident five years ago. It doesn’t mean when someone sees that dad in traffic that we let the reader know the dad works at the insurance company because it’s one of the last places the government could relocate him to for his own and his family’s protection. It doesn’t mean when we’re trying to introduce mutual friends over written communications that we explain everything we know about them to each other before letting them say hello. What it does mean is that we let each character’s story drive them, and then the characters can drive your story.

Following Paths

Most people figure out something that they are called to do at some point in their lives. It's something they were born to, created for, designed to do. Some people figure out their callings when they are children, knowing from the beginning of their memories that they are singers, artists, astronauts, or architects. Others pick it up over time, realizing that they are gifted in mathematics, working with their hands, or performing arts. Still others spend much of their lives wondering what their true calling is, and wander far from the paths set before them until they find their ways to photography, nuclear science, surgery, or military strategy. Many eventually give up the search in favor of finances or outside pressures, settling for jobs they loathe instead of following a dream or pursuing a talent they pushed to the side.
Some are told their talents aren't enough, that they need a skill set the job market wants or they need to find a way to make their dreams make money. The girl who knows how to listen with the compassion and sympathy of a friend and gives wise advice is told she should pursue counseling and winds up burning out because of the weight of the world's problems. The young man who enjoys playing a flute is told to switch to something more modern if he wants to get anywhere in the music industry. And though money is a necessity, it is a heart-wrenching thing to be told it matters more than the passion that lights a fire in your soul.
Some have random skills that don't seem to connect, and it seems to come down to choosing what may be a career and what must remain a hobby for the rest of your life. A basketball player who also cooks phenomenally, a budding accountant with significant medical interests and knowledge, an actress who can take a car apart and put it back together correctly - how do they combine their passions and talents to make a living at what they love? It's easier to let some things remain dreams and pursue the sure moneymakers, even at the cost of missing out on their true calling.
I fall into the last category. There are many paths I could follow, and jobs I could excel in, and ways I could bring joy and service to others. I could follow the money, find a broad field I know well and ensure a salary for years to come. I could follow the ethereal dreams and hope that someone sees enough value in what I come up with to help me survive. I could put both aside, for that matter. I could decide to track down a dragon and fly off to a parallel universe in which none of this matters as long as the darkness is defeated by the light.
But one thing I know is that I am a writer. Writing comes as naturally to me as breathing. Sometimes it's all fun and games, with fantasy worlds, imaginary characters, and dreams beyond this galaxy. Sometimes it's more serious, with musings about the nature of God and the purpose of humanity. Still other times it gets darker, with some real-life struggles and topics many shy away from. Regardless of the nature, though, it is always necessary for me to write - write out my thoughts, my ideas, my hopes and dreams. Not only that, but I know I am supposed to write to share with others. It's not just for my benefit, it's for the world to see. It's to encourage others to face their choices, their own battles with light and darkness, with the courage and strength at their disposal, whether that's through examples in my own experience or the journeys of characters that mirror our own. I know I'm supposed to write, to bring hope.
That's where I'm starting from, and I hope I haven't scared you away yet. I'd love to share with you what God has done in my writing and my life in general. Though I can't promise it'll always be intelligible, I can say it'll never be boring. You'll walk away with questions to consider and ideas to pursue, whether it's in your own writing, your walk with God, or your life in general. So why not join me? It'll be a fun ride.