The Playful Pursuit of Passions

After posting a blog entry on January 17 of last year, Making Waves went suddenly and unexpectedly silent. It was a very strange feeling since a hundred blog entries had poured out over the previous 2 1/2 years. Never knowing what the next subject might be, I had grown accustomed to a new topic being on my heart every week or so.

Then all of a sudden – nothing.

It wasn’t that I was too busy or de-motivated. Without warning, the flow of ideas stopped. Nothing came. Silence.

I longed to write and started a few failed endeavors but was grasping at something that simply wasn’t there.

Instead, a tugging at my heart led me to compile Your Loving Son, James for my dad. I gave myself over to the effort without knowing exactly what the finished product would be.

Lots of the time was spent in research. Hours were spent combing through internet sites looking for details of a 2nd Lieutenant’s all-too-brief military career. Even more time was spent reading hundreds of pages of letters written from a young man to his mother while he was going through pilot training. Finally, the actual writing took over as I decided how to tell his story to his son, my dad, who never knew him. It was hard work but more importantly, it was a ton of fun.

I tried desperately to get to know my grandfather, who was my children’s age at the time – while he enlisted in the Army during WW2, got married, had children, and was eventually deployed to the war in Europe. His letters were seldom somber or serious, mostly light news-of-the-day conversations with his mom. Convinced that I could get to know him through those correspondences, I tried to imagine what he was going through during each letter.

Emotionally, it was draining. He was full of hope for the future, love for his family, and ready to enjoy life. As he wrote those letters, he couldn’t have known what I did when I was reading them. His days in this world were growing short. He would never get the chance to realize his dreams. His life would soon be cut short in the skies above Germany. His family would mourn and never fully come to grips with the loss. His young sons would remain strangers, not learning their father’s story for over seventy years.

Compelled to finish the book, all of my free time was consumed telling a story that transcended generations of my family. I didn’t know what to expect when I was done, but felt drawn to the task. Every energy I had went into it.

After months, it was complete. Finishing a book is difficult. There is a gap between when you have put it out there and the time later when people have had a chance to read it. The wait to you see if your efforts hit the mark is difficult.

After handing my father his copy, I drove back home from Tennessee to Texas, wondering what was next. Several more failed arrempts at blog-writing followed, but I was trying to force something that needed to flow naturally.

No voice spoke to me about Making Waves, so it continued to sit silently on the shelf for several more months.

Soon, a woodworking project caught my attention. Still focused on a family theme, I built a cutting board from 50-year-old pieces of my dad’s workbench to present to my son. It was slow, tedious work, but eventually the board with the Roman numeral 3 (honoring my son James the 3rd) was completed.

In the process, I caught woodworking fever. For reasons I cannot explain, my brain buzzed constantly with ideas. I was drawn to spend all my waking hours in the garage running tools or on-line studying techniques. It was all I talked about.

Cutting boards, coasters, wine caddies, and more began piling up. Although joy poured out of me in my work, I wondered “Why this?”

I have always tried to trust the God who created my passions. When He stirs a fire in my soul, I try to fan the flames. He has always used the effort for His purpose, but this time I wondered how He would use this for His glory. This time, was I merely indulging myself?

Throughout First Fruits, Making Waves, and even Your Loving Son, I always had some vision of what God was using them for. This was different. How could he use a guy in his garage making sawdust to advance His kingdom?

Then calls started coming in. Many asked for boards with something other than traditional last names or a favorite phrase. “Can you make a cutting board with Galatians 2:20 engraved on it? How about Romans 8:39? Romans 8:28? Matthew 28? An adaptation of a verse from 2 Timothy? Do you have coasters with the Tree of Life on them?”

I was stunned. God wasn’t. He always had a plan for my faithfulness.

Many times, God doesn’t give us clear direction of something to do. Instead, he ignites a passion inside us, hoping that as we pursue the joy of our heart, we will find closer relationship Him.

The talents we are given come from Him. The passions of our heart do too. When we give ourselves over to them fully holding on by faith that He will use it for His glory, then amazing things happen. He continues to give me brief glimpses of how he is using me as part of his master plan, even if I never see the full picture.

Just a peek is enough to refresh my spirit. It reminds me that His plan isn’t something; it is someone. We are his plan.

His plan isn’t about the outcome of the work we do. After all He is better equipped to do that himself; he just wants us to enjoy ourselves with him while we fulfill the purposes He created us for.

We often view God as the Master Chess Player, carefully coordinating the movements of all the pieces on the playing board. However, I believe He is more of the Hopeful Romantic, longing to show us how much He loves us and inspiring us with ways that we can show our love.

Obedience is found in our gleeful romps through the day more than long-faced submission to His wlll. After all, God is love.

It is rewarding to see how God uses the things that we do, but much more rewarding to discover Him in the pursuit of our passions.

I don’t know what will come next, but that’s OK. I know who I am doing it for.