An Uncooked Story
It’s Sunday, and so often I come here to write because I want to inspire you. Maybe I get a rise out of it. Maybe if I can inspire you, I’ll feel inspired myself. After all, I usually learn by teaching, or I think by writing. The keys under my fingers are the processors, somehow connected way down to invisible parts of me.
I come in here, and I don’t want to be accused of the unholy. I want always and only to point to truth. I’m desperate for truth to transform me, not so I’ll look like a godly leader, but rather so I won’t rip my own kids’ heads off when they disobey. I want to be transformed because the love of Christ is a healer, and without it, there is a kind of despair through which I don’t think I could live. It’s not a joke. This is no devotional. Without him, I starve. Where the kingdom of this world doesn’t tie me up, I’ll put myself in chains.
“The Lord sets the prisoners free; the Lord opens the eyes of the blind” (Psalm 146:8 ESV).
There is a way in which the jesusy folk tend to write (I do it, too), and that way feels so disconnected from my real life that I could scream. I don’t feel disconnected with my Jesus, no, but I do feel disconnected with the pull inside me to sound this way or that – or with the pull of what others are doing so successfully to point to the kingdom of God. Maybe some perspectives are done; they’re processed, cooked up, and plated well. My perspective is still raw. I’ve barely cleaned these veggies.
My everyday life doesn’t sound or look much like a devotional, and by the read of your responses to my newsletter, your lives don’t either. We all want to be okay enough to rise above the muck to the realm of holy speak. We all want to un-mire our minds from the grit and tangle, to know the common language of the peace-filled godly masses.
Today, I think of my own prisons, and I think of the prisoners in the Elkhart County Jail. Real people, real pain, real bars, real transformation. I ask you: what is freedom when you’re in jail?
But if I write flip, as I often start to do, I don’t feel legit. Were I to boil it all down to flip sayings about grace and forgiveness, it wouldn’t pierce my own heart anymore. I can’t write without a pierced heart, I reckon, or I can, but it bores me to death, lulls me to sleep – and please tell me you get bored, too.
What I believe are those of you who have responded to my newsletter or to my book with your un-answerable questions and your desirous stories. When, together, we can have hard-flung hope for healing and redemption, then I know we’re moving in honesty in the right direction as the church.
For now, I am living into another book, not the writing of it but rather the unfurling of character and scene. Our lives are mostly not stories we write. For today, though, I do give you what I’ve written of mine, the raw of it, and I hope if you haven’t read Wild in the Hollow, you’ll take this chance to get it cheap and share it with your friends.
(The beginning of this post is such an odd lead for my original intention to simply let you know that my book is on sale today. My pulpit slips out at the weirdest times. I just rolled my eyes at myself. For today, the eBook version is only $1.99. That’s what I thought I sat down here to announce to you.)
$1.99, I tell you!
If you have a nook, Wild in the Hollow is only $1.99 at Barnes & Noble.
If you have a kindle, Wild in the Hollow is only $1.99 through Amazon.
If you don’t have a kindle, you can download the app for free here for most all your devices.
Have mercy, and feel free to share. Click below!