"In a prison in Philadelphia, [Charles Dickens] saw a man who had been held in solitary confinement for six years and who sat in his cell wearing 'a paper hat of his own making.' It was the shadow of Dickens's own terror. To have no communion with humanity--no readers for his writing, no audience for the performance--is what Dickens dreaded most."
- In "Dickens in Eden" by Jill Lepore (The New Yorker, August 29, 2011)
Would you write if you were never to be published? An often asked and fair question. After all, we have no guarantees that our words will reach an audience, that a publisher will pick them up, that a reader will peruse the pages. As believers, we create as an act of worship to God. Art as doxology, Francis Schaeffer wrote.
But as believers, we also know we were created in and for community, and we seek community in and through the form that excavates our very humanity. An archaeologist shares her findings, anxious that others may know the world she discovered. A chef delights in cooking for others, combining flavors to treat others's palates. Or, to put it another way, worship is not just an individual act. It is also a corporate act.
I pen stories and characters in hopes that this act of worship will become part of the corporate dance. When rejections pile up and dejection hovers near, I imagine the new world--the Revelation 22 world--where nations sing God's praises, and perhaps paint and write and dance his praises as well. Meanwhile, I trust God with how he chooses to use my offerings now, a friend who connected with a character, unknown readers of a small literary press, a little boy who wants to hear the one about the blue alien again, and I strive for excellence, for everything I do, I do as unto the Lord.
Aye, there's the rub: contentment and striving together. Though we sometimes feel that our work is in obscurity, we are not the man in solitary confinement with the paper hat of his own making. God sees us. He knows our work. Besides that, we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, and so we run with perseverance.
Today I sit at my desk, another day of working in obscurity, offering this gift God has given in hopes that he sees fit to use it in his kingdom to his glory. Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.
Heather A. Goodman writes for the glory of God and rejoices in the community of believers and artists God has put in her life.
We're created for community. From the beginning, we're created for community. We were designed to be a part of a body. That sense of connectedness and relationship permeates what a writer does. Each time we write something, we do so as a kind of remembrance of the original act of creation.
Posted by: Glynn | October 12, 2011 at 03:59 AM