As you may have noticed, the Lord has been drawing me into a deeper level of faith and trust. He has been so wonderful to me. But as usual, with no idea what to write I made it a big trauma. I went through an agonizing ten days of seeking the Lord, questioning my call, getting no answers, and left with no idea what I was going to write next.
Finally, a few days ago, I reached the end of my rope and I was begging the Lord to tell me if I was on the right path, and why didn’t I have an idea where to go. I heard nothing. Just emptiness. Then somehow, in my foggy brain, sleep deprived, I snarked, “But you’ve told me before, haven’t you?” And I immediately heard, “That’s right, David,” clear as a bell.
As soon as He spoke my whole trauma ended. I was at peace again. “I just let the creep get to me, right?” And I heard, “you sure did.” And I laughed. I immediately called all the demons in the house, bound them, and cast them into the outer darkness away from humans until the Lord judged them. And the peace settled in.
A deeper faith for Christian fiction amazes me still more
But it wasn’t over. I still had no idea what I was going to write. I had tried many options, but still felt I wanted to place my next book in New Mexico also, and probably Albuquerque. That seemed good.
And then I remembered all the times over the past year where I had gotten stuck in my books. Increasingly, the solution had been to turn to Jesus and ask Him to anoint my book, and start writing. It always turned out well—much better than I was capable of writing without His help.
So, I had a few vague pieces: another young Diné warrior, Navajo witchcraft, skin walkers, but no story, no book idea. So, I just did what I have done before—though this was a whole new level of faith for me. I had no characters, no tale, nada. “Lord Jesus, I ask that you anoint me to write this book. I need your help. I need your wisdom and guidance. I thank you for it. I’m asking it in your name Jesus, just to remind myself how necessary that is—for without you I really am nothing.”
And I started to write
A name came to me, Henry Deschene, and I started to write. I found out Henry was working on his dissertation for his ethnology doctorate at the University of New Mexico. He was in deep trouble. He had realized that he was great at taking tests, yet a well-reasoned essay was usually beyond him. He was on the edge of panic. But he had found a writing tutor on the list in the office in the Maxwell Museum of Anthropology where he had a teaching assistantship.
He met this strange young woman. They got into a complicated, convoluted conversation—and the story was launched and on its way. Praise you, Jesus.
How could I forget such a simple solution? I got a whole new revelation on why the Lord made it all dependent upon faith. In this faulty corrupted world, wearing old flesh, faith was the only way through the morass.
If you feel led, prayers for the effort would be appreciated.