On Novel Writing, Deadlines, and Perfection

heavenpicRecently, my novel was handed over to the publishing company. It has taken a mere sixteen years, since it was first conceived, for the submission of this final copy. Finally, after countless chides from my family to get it published, numerous edits, and one title change, One More Tomorrow is officially out of my hands.

The process of writing a novel—or the creation of any art form for that matter—bears some striking similarities to our lives. Well-lived lives, like well-written books, are crafted by thoughtful decisions, intentional choices, inspiration, imagination, creativity, and untold toil undertaken over its entirety. Even as I handed my manuscript over, I knew it would never be perfect. There could forever be tweaks, cuts, and additions, but there was a deadline, and so I gave it away.

Our lives are just the same.

It too will never be perfect. It has a deadline, and you need to give it away.

No matter how hard we try, no matter how we imagine it, painstakingly craft it, and steer the process, our lives will never measure up to our expectations. Our days, we ourselves, will never be flawless. There will be times when those around us will fail us, circumstances will crumble, and we will be less than perfect.

But the here and now, and all that we make of it, isn’t all there is. And despite all our efforts—all our cuts and edits—to achieve perfection, we can’t become good enough for all that comes after this life. We weren’t meant to achieve perfection, nor was life meant to be perfect. Because this life, with all its aches and pains, is not heaven.

As bleak as this sounds at first appearance, it’s actually good news. Forget trying to be flawless like you wish the manuscript, the painting, the song, or the dance of your life to become. There will be plenty of time for that later when perfect is the norm. But like my book, our lives have a final submission date. That date occurs on the day you pass from life, to death, to eternal life.

On that day:

He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

~ Revelation 21:4

Until then, we can rest in knowing that there’s nothing we can do to be good enough for this moment—for eternity. No amount of hard work, good behaviour, rule following, or believing we are better than the person next to us will gain us an admission ticket into heaven.

Jesus alone bought our passage; we only need receive it by faith.

Everything else, the cuts and edits, will come as a result of his life in you. You give away your life’s manuscript, and he does the work crafting it—and you—into his masterpiece. He’s the only one who can make you fit for forever.

For by one offering He has perfected for all time those who are sanctified. 

~ Hebrews 10:14

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  1. Have you found your rest in Jesus? I would love to hear your story!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All the Days Written Down

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This week I wrote my final entry in my son’s childhood journal I kept for him over the past twenty-two years of his life, begun on the day he was born. The years have rushed by, and, reading over a few of the entries, I was reminded of many events and beautiful memories I knew I’d forget to tell him about had I not written them down. Now that he’s married, I plan to wrap up the journals to give to him this Christmas.

I’m excited for my son to read the detailed documentation of his life as seen through my eyes. My hope is that he’ll be encouraged, see himself from a different perspective, and possibly get an even greater sense of who he is. More than that, I hope he will see how dearly he was loved by his dad and me at every stage, and how we were cheering him on every step of the way.

This recent journal writing has reminded me of our Father in heaven. Take a look at these verses. I have to say, they kinda blow my mind.

“Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” ~ Psalm 139:16

“You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.” ~ Psalm 56:8

God keeps track of the things that concern you and me. We’re in his book! Tell me that doesn’t blow you away just a tad?

But I’m thinking God doesn’t need to record our stuff in case he forgets, or to keep a naughty or nice list. I also doubt he keeps track of all our sorrows in order to make sure we receive the “Get into Heaven Free” card by meeting a tragedy quota, or because we’ve managed to reach the good works threshold (more on that in a sec). I like to think it’s partly because of this:

“For there is nothing hidden that will not be disclosed, and nothing concealed that will not be known or brought out into the open.” ` Luke 8:17

I can’t say for sure, but wonder if when we are in our final home in heaven, all that we’re going through right now – the good, the bad and the ugly – will make sense. All the tears, the sorrows, the why-is-this-happening? – all of it. And, when it is, I think we’ll marvel at how remarkably connected it all was, how many parts and people were affected as a result, how it served an eternal purpose, and possibly understand all that was happening in the unseen places. Some may say in heaven it won’t matter anymore, but I like to think it will matter a great deal. Enough for God to write it down.

There is another book I would be amiss to not mention. The Bible speaks of the Book of Life, where all of humanity’s names are recorded. Our names are not found in this book if we’re really good, do a lot of good stuff, or suffer a ton. Our names are found in this book only if we’re found in Christ. This is the reason Christ died: to ensure our names wouldn’t be blotted out, and thus ensure our forever home in heaven with him. The only thing that would limit Christ’s saving work is our failure to respond or our rejection of God’s grace.

I hope to one day ask God if I can have a peek at the writings he kept concerning me. Maybe you will too. I think we will be in awe, not only of God, but also of our life’s story as seen through God’s perspective. And just like the journals kept for my son, I think we will be encouraged to see ourselves – and our past circumstances – from our loving Father’s perspective. We will learn, in full, how dearly and securely we were loved at every turn, and how he was cheering us on every step of the way.

“For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears…  For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.”  ~1 Corinthians 13: 9 & 12

I want to leave you with this hymn. I think it’s an appropriate and beautiful way to conclude and punctuate the above ideas. Take time to ponder the poetic lyrics:

My Hope is Built on Nothing Less

My hope is built on nothing less
than Jesus’ blood and righteousness;
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
but wholly lean on Jesus’ name.
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
all other ground is sinking sand.

When darkness veils His lovely face,
I rest on His unchanging grace;
in ev’ry high and stormy gale
my anchor holds within the veil.
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
all other ground is sinking sand.

His oath, His covenant, His blood
support me in the ‘whelming flood;
when all around my soul gives way
He then is all my hope and stay.
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
all other ground is sinking sand.

When He shall come with trumpet sound,
O may I then in Him be found,
dressed in His righteousness alone,
faultless to stand before the throne.
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
all other ground is sinking sand.

~ Edward Mote (1834)

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  1. It’s my greatest hope that you are found in Christ. I’d love a reading buddy in heaven 🙂 He is just a prayer away.

Letting Go with Open Arms

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Last weekend, our first born got married to his perfect match. As if this weren’t enough emotion for this momma’s heart, on Monday of the same week we crammed the contents of our second born’s room into our van and moved him into his own apartment to continue his college education. On Tuesday, our littlest started school for the first time. I homeschooled our kids for the past eighteen years, and she is the first to go to “real” school. The same week, my third born left for New York City for a big audition. Continue reading “Letting Go with Open Arms”