A Case for Inspirational Romance

When people ask me what I write, I usually say historical fiction -- not historical romance. Why? Because a good Christian girl shouldn't be interested in that sensual kind of earthly stuff. Right?

Wrong.

Granted, romance has some negative connotations, but there is a flip side. Think about it for a minute. God is the author of love. He's the one who created it and put into motion an everlasting romance between Christ and the church. Stories about heroes loving their heroines are a dim reflection of that. Is it any wonder we love a happy ending?

We all have an inner craving to be loved. Deep down in everyone's heart there is a desire to be cherished. Reading/writing about that desire (note: not talking about sex/erotica here) reminds us that feeling is but a shadow of what will be some day be fully consummated.

We cannot out-imagine God when it comes to things that delight our souls. When you enjoy a romantic story, imagining wonderfully awesome things, let it put you in a spirit of worship via 1 Corinthians 2:9 ~ "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him."

What's more lovely than love? Philippians 4:8 says, "Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable." Am I taking that out of context? Maybe. But thinking on grander concepts such as mercy, grace, justice, or yes indeedy, love fit that bill.

Even God uses romance via story in the Song of Solomon as a picture of a desirable romance. Inspirational romance stories provide the same sort of picture, of a beautiful, overcoming love. A turning point for my faith that gave me a greater sense of God's love for me was via just such a story. Streiker's Bride, in case you're interested.

All this being said, of course you can take this to the dark side. Lusting after a fictional character, becoming dissatisfied with your "real" relationships, using inspirational romance as a springboard to erotica (giving in to the hey-that's-just-a story-too mentality) are not only ill-advised but are outright rebellion against God's plan.

Personally, I'll probably still say I write historical fiction instead of romance. Not because I don't believe in it being perfectly acceptable. It's the slanty-eyed looks of of condemnation that I'd rather not endure.

Where Does Creativity End and Deception Begin?

post by Michelle Griep

Some people frown on fiction for various reasons . . .
   - It's the ugly stepsister of fact,
     clearly of lesser value.
   - It's a waste of time
     because it's not real.

And the mother of all reasons:
   - Fiction is of the devil because it's a big bunch of lies.

While it's true that fiction is for the most part "made-up" and the devil is the quintessential father of all lies, let's slow down here a bit and dissect this. But first, allow me a disclaimer.

Disclaimer: Before we digress into relativism, which is way too big of a topic for a peon like me to handle in any sane format, for the sake of today's discussion, I'm defining truth as that which is in the Bible.

Now that we've got that out of the way, here's a question for you: where do you draw the line between creativity and deception?

My answer: the author and the reader.

If a writer sets out to intentionally plant lies in a reader's brain, hiding untruths in what appears to be merely a story, then that author is purposely being deceptive. Oh sure, he's also being creative in the way he lies, but it boils down to intent. What is the writer's motivation behind the writing of a story?

Hold on there, Hoss. This doesn't mean that every time you see an exposed lie in fiction that the author drinks blood and rips off the heads of chickens. Lies can be used to spotlight truth. Don't be too hasty to judge.

I would also like to stick up for my writerly brethren and say it's highly unlikely that any author pours part of their life into a story simply to spawn lies like maggots into a reader's brain (sorry for the visual).

Ultimately, creativity ends and deception begins first when an author dresses up a lie so beautifully that the reader lusts after it, and secondly, when the reader goes after it. 

Messy business, indeed -- but rarely is deception black and white.

So, is fiction of the devil? Not any more than music or movies or any other form of entertainment. Deception begins and ends in our own evil hearts, not in words creatively typed on a page.

Stump the Chump

post by Michelle Griep

Every now and then here at Writer Off the Leash, I like to share questions I get asked because, hey, you might have the same question but are too afraid to inquire. To which I answer, "Scared? Of me? I'm way less frightening than Donald Trump's hair, so feel free to ask anything."

Now that we've got that cleared up, on to the question . . .

I would like to ask you, 

why did you stop writing Bible related stories 

and suddenly start writing fiction?

Umm. Er . . . Well. Yeah. That one kind of stumps me. See the wrinkly furrows on my brow?

The truth is I never did stop writing "Bible related stories" in favor of fiction. The two are not mutually exclusive. In fact, I'd even go so far as to say fiction is an ordained method of relating Biblical truth.

Not that I'm a theologian, mind you. Shoot, I can't even pronounce Thessalonians without a lisp. But I figure that if Jesus imparted big-whopping truths via parables, then that technique is good enough for me.

Fiction is a non-invasive, less threatening mode to teach truth and often is more well received than lectures or sermons or floggings.

Of course there's the usual comeback . . . Fiction is of the devil because it's basically a big bunch of lies. Hmm. Really? Where do you draw the line between creativity and deception? 

And that, my friends, is a topic for further discussion. Check back tomorrow

Why Evil Can't Win

post by Michelle Griep

Normally I'm not a creepy horror movie kind of gal. I love action/adventure with a healthy dose of romance thrown in. But this weekend I got sucked into watching a horror flick called Sinister. You would think with a title like that I'd have known better, but the premise hooked and reeled me in . . .

Washed-up true-crime writer Ellison Oswalt finds a box of super 8 home movies that suggest the murder he is currently researching is the work of a serial killer whose work dates back to the 1960s.

Writer. Researching. Mystery. Hmm. It had potential . . . until the very end. This may or may not be a spoiler, so if you're going to watch this one, quit reading now. 

Still there? Oh yeah, I should also let those of you who are squeamish know that you don't need to panic -- I'll spare you the gory details. 

Now then, here's what riled me up: evil won. The hero did not escape. All was lost. There was absolutely no redeeming value whatsoever. The wicked Satanic villain walked away the victor. Yeah, I know there are people out there who don't have a problem with that, but I do and here's why: that's a big, fat lie, folks.

And I hate being lied to.

Evil cannot win -- ever -- in story or in life because good killed it 2000 years ago on a cross. Evil has boundaries that are kept by God. Writers who cross that boundary by allowing evil to win are fundamentally shaking a fist in God's face.

But does having good win every time make stories too predictable? I'd argue not because every writer's voice is different. And good takes on many forms, too many to predict which outcome will end a story.

I'm still turning this whole idea around in my mind, so there will likely be a few more posts on this in the future. In the mean time, feel free to share any of your thoughts in the comment section, even if you disagree.

Perspective

See that I am God.
See that I am in everything.
See that I do everything.
See that I have never stopped ordering my works, nor ever shall,
eternally.
See that I lead everything on to the conclusion I ordained
before time began,
by the same power, wisdom and love with which I made it.

How can anything be amiss?

~ Julian of Norwich

Proverb

When you live for yourself,
demand others meet your expectations,
demand God behave in a way that lines up with your view of Him,
then frustration with grit your teeth
and disappointment rot in your bones.

Expectations

Disappointment rages when we don't get the raise we expect,

don't experience the love that should be returned,

or fall face down in horrified surprise when our bodies fail.

But why do we place our expectations in earthly things?

As if they're our due,

as if we are worthy,

as if we are the everlasting.

What kind of prospect for joy might be ours if we put our expectation in God alone?

Is that not better than the oppressing weight of disappointment?

Today live with no expectation for anyone to do anything and see what kind of unexpected joy comes your way.

Look

In memory of Alex Steddom

"If there are wolves in the woods

expect to see wolves;

and if there is God in this place

expect to see God."

~ Ann Voskamp

Why is it so surprising
when a sunset blazes red across the sky
and my throat closes because of the beauty?
Though it makes me gasp and tingle,
it's easy to see God there.

But when the last breath blows away a loved one's life
and my heart constricts and tears run hot because of grief,
there
right there
God seems a little out of reach.

It's hard to see a loving Father in the midst of the hot ugly messes
but
it's not impossible if you expect to see Him.

Look.

Happy

I often feel guilty when God gives me what I want,
like enjoying what is good is somehow decadent,
like laughter is wasting time
when I should be working
or meditating solemn over Scripture.

Where did this broken image of God come from?

True, He is  God of wrath for those who don't bend the knee,
but He's also the wielder of lavish grace and mercy and love.
The one who made lips to smile,
and eyes to leak out happiness.

And if I take the time to listen hard,
I can hear Jesus whisper,
"You being happy in the things God gives
makes me very happy."

Gratitude

"Thanksgiving is the evidence of our acceptance of whatever God gives.

Thanksgiving is the manifestation of our Yes! to His grace."

~ Ann Voskamp

Question of the Week:
How thankful are you for whatever God gives?

No really, think on that for a minute. Just sixty seconds. We all need a thorough heart examination every now and then.

Attitude

Sometimes giving thanks not only seems too big to grab hold of,
it's too ludicrous to even consider.
Who in their right mind gives thanks
when a child is stillborn,
a mate is given to cancer,
a home and dreams are burned up by fire?
Who can possibly be thankful
in the white-hot angry times?
I don't know how to do it.
I can't.
Good thing Jesus didn't have that attitude.

Beloved

Clearly, names are important . . .
-  God named Adam
-  Adam named Eve
-  We will all have new names known only by Him when we get to eternity

What an intimate thing to be given a name known only by one.
It's personal.
It's ownership.
It's commitment,
and I weep.
Me?
I long to know that name He has for me,
to hear it spoken by Him for me alone.
No, not alone . . . for Him and I,
Creator and created,
one at last.
Only then will my bones be at rest.

Veritas

I am the way
and the truth
and the life
no one
comes to the Father
except through me.
John 14:6

There is comfort in this verse.
And fear.
But mostly finality.
This is not a statement to be argued with.
Either it is,
or it isn't.
This entrance into heaven,
this Jesus,
this truth . . .
eternity hinges on this door.

Whisper

What if the words
YOU ARE LOVED
went down deep inside
if you swallowed them
and they became part of you?
What if you camped on those words?
Allowed them to soak in every part of your life?
How different things would look.
Not nearly as scary or depressing.
You'd have more compassion spilling out to others
because you'd have nothing to prove
no pretense
no fear.
And yet you are loved
whether or not you chew and taste
and fall back in the grass bloated with those words.
Oh, God,
help us to hear that whisper.

Now

It's enormous to consider the now;
it's opening a door,
one with a sign hanging from it,
smack center,
that reads "e-m-o-t-i-o-n-s."
It might hurt to live in the now.
It's risky.
I gasp.
Maybe that's what faith is for.

Joyless

"No man can live without joy."
~ Thomas Aquinas

There are zombies among us.
Living, breathing, dead.
Those who have no joy.
They feed off others,
devouring to fill their own emptiness and thirst.
Envy. Strife. Fear.
Easy to point a finger, cast a label, throw a stone,
but how many times do I willfully turn my back on joy
even when it's handed to me on a cross?
When trouble knocks on my door, trials bump into me,
tribulation breaks like a thunder cloud over my head,
that's when choosing joy is hardest
and it's easier to walk the day in glassy-eyed despair.
But rejoice is a verb.
An action.
A choice.
What will you choose today?

"Rejoice in the LORD, always. Again, I say rejoice."
~ Philippians 4:4

Be

"By the very function not of our doing
but of our being,
I see we are the beloved of God."
~ Ann Voskamp

This is too stunning.
Too awesomely terrible for me to think on.
Just be?
Not do?
I don't have to do?
But
it's what I am.
A doer.
A servant.
I don't know how to be.
I am afraid to be
because who could love that?
Who could love me for just being me
instead of what I do for them?
No one. No man.
Only Jesus.
And I weep.

Hope

when the world and its ways
weigh heavy on your shoulders
and sag your soul
down to the dirt
know
know
the game isn't over yet
there's still a chance
there's still hope


THE LORD'S HAND IS NOT SHORTENED
THAT IT CANNOT SAVE
NOR HIS EAR HEAVY
THAT IT CANNOT HEAR

isaiah 59:1

Night Vision

I’ve always wanted a pair of night vision glasses.

It would be pretty sweet to see in the dark,
to not bump into a wall,
or trip over a shoe,
or be able to see the creepy killer monster and run the other way.
But what if there were a spiritual version available?
Night vision goggles that worked in daylight as well,
letting you see the demons, the angels,
Jesus at work.
Would I be bold enough to put them on,
or would I rather remain in the ignorant safety of the blind?
And yet,
every time I read more of God’s word, dwell on its meaning,
my eyes see a little sharper,
distinguish things more clearly.
Maybe night vision isn’t an outward pair of glasses
but an inward cleaning of the lens of the soul.

Everyone loves a yes.
It's a happy word.
A smile word.
The kind of word we anticipate,
hope for,
wrap our arms around
and squeeze it for all it's worth.
Yes, you're a winner.
Yes, you are loved.
Yes, I hold you in the palm of My hand.
It's easy to adore yes and scorn its ugly step-sibling,
no.
No is black, angry, endless in spite and deprivation.
But really?
Step closer. Observe. Dare to look beyond the warty facade.
No more sin.
No more tears.
No more death.
Next time a no comes your way, remember these.