Cheating? Or Adapting and Growing? By Georgie Tennant


This month has been fraught with busyness on an even greater scale than usual – a month-long in-laws’ visit from overseas, navigating the children through the labyrinth of end of term activities (“Are you sure it’s not today you’re supposed to be dressed as a pirate?!"), taking part in the emotionally charged “Race for Life,” without my sister for the first time, finishing my job and gaining another.  Writing has been pounding on the door of my schedule but has not been granted access.  The couple of things that have had to be written (external, deadline-driven) have been hastily adapted from things previously penned.

As I pondered this month’s ACW ‘More Than Writers’ Post, I decided that, as I am embroiled in ‘preparing for holiday’ chaos, it was time to ‘cheat’ again.  A moral dilemma ensued.  Surely my readers are entitled to something fresh, new and brilliant (the latter perhaps a little ambitious!). Will something I recycle feel tired and worn?  Will they be able to tell?

Once I had silenced the voices of condemnation (which sounds easy in a typed sentence, but isn’t at all), it struck me that the brilliance of writing is that it is an organic, living thing.  It can be adapted, changed and refined.  Like a dusty, old chest in an attic it can lay dormant and unopened, until the next person stumbles upon it, whips the heavy blanket from the top and releases its secrets and treasures afresh.


It is not a bad thing that our writing sleeps, waiting in the wings for the moment it can be resurrected, used and adapted for fresh purposes.  The piece I have included below has undergone several transformations.  It started life as something I wrote for pure enjoyment, after a trip to the park one afternoon with my boys and some friends.  It was edited under the constraints of a 400-word limit, as the ‘Thought for the Week,’ for the local newspaper.  It underwent a rebirth during a two-week mission in our church entitled ‘Our Story,’ used as the introduction to a magazine, given out to all visitors.  And I’ve re-worked it again now, slightly, incorporating my favourite bits of all its incarnations. 

Aside from the editing process, our own writing can take on new meaning for us in different seasons of our lives.  Deborah Jenkins wrote about it in her brilliant post here. She described how her own past writing spoke to her present self.  When I wrote this piece, it was long before my painful journey through my sister’s illness and death.  It helps me to re-read my piece and know that the truths still stand, even through landscape-altering, seismic shifts in my life’s story.

Anyway, that’s my justification for the resurrection of the piece below.  I hope you enjoy it – and forgive me for cheating - or growing and adapting…you decide!


Knowing the End from the Beginning

My youngest son hates anything sad or scary, even on television.  Through family movie afternoons, we keep asking him, “Who wins in the end?” eliciting the much-rehearsed reply, “the baddies always lose, the goodies always win.”  Watching ‘Cinderella,’ one Sunday afternoon, his usual panic set in.  The initial beauty of the film faded into the darker scenes and he announced that he wanted to watch something else.


Knowing he would cope better with the scary bits if he knew what lay beyond them, I pressed pause. After five minutes explaining about ugly sisters, wicked step mothers, magic pumpkins, glass slippers, a handsome prince and a happily ever after, he was all smiles again, eager to press on.

As we watched more, it struck me that, as adults, we can be similar in our approach to life and faith.  We meander happily through the sunnier parts of life but when troubles and trials hit, we want to pause the story and hide away from the sheer discomfort of it.  We reason that if we could just know that next week, month, year, things will look up, we could keep going.  The uncertainty makes us doubt and fear.  We long to know the end from the beginning but we don’t – we can’t.

There is, however, reassurance in knowing the One who does.  He has the perspective of a master director, knowing and orchestrating how the scenes will slot together in a bigger picture we can't see from down here.  Sometimes we yearn for God to unfold our narrative in advance, as I did for my son; we reason that it would help us to anticipate the peaks and troughs, navigate them more gracefully.  Instead God invites us to a place of surrender and trust, where all we can do is place our hand in His and trust Him to lead us safely through, giving us all the strength and hope we need for each moment.


We do not know what twists and turns will lead us through life to our story’s end, but we can count on two things.  Firstly, God will work out all things, joy-filled and excruciatingly painful, for our good.  Secondly, the final end to all of our stories will be one of rejoicing, wholeness and peace for all eternity, if we’ve put our trust in Him.  With my hand in the hand of an author who writes like that, I can confidently walk through my story, even without knowing the full script.  I can walk, trust and surrender - even stumble and trip - knowing that the One who wrote my story from the very beginning, will give me all I need to live it, right until the very end.



Georgina Tennant is a secondary school English teacher in a Norfolk Comprehensive.  She is married, with two sons, aged 10 and 7 who keep her exceptionally busy. She feels intimidated by having to provide an author-biography, when her writing only extends, currently, to attempting to blog, writing the ‘Thought for the Week’ for the local paper occasionally, and having a poem published in a book from a National Poetry Competition. She feels a bit more like a real author now the ACW Lent Book is out and she has a piece in it! Her musings about life can be found on her blog: www.somepoemsbygeorgie.blogspot.co.uk

Comments

  1. An insightful post, as always. My current WIP (finished, but for tweaking) was inspired by a very short story I wrote some years ago as 'homework' for a critique group. And why not? Btw, my older daughter, now 28, also hated the sad and scary bits. Bambi's mother? I had to bowdlerize. And later even if she'd seen the film and knew how it ended she would run upstairs when danger loomed!

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  2. I loved the description of the chest in the attic, I could see it there! I often wish that he could let us know what is ahead or at least why this and that had to happen. Hope you've been able to have some writing time on holiday :)

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  3. I loved this Georgie, so perceptive and wise. I've been writing some Bible Notes in Ecclesiastes and much of that message is similar to yours. Thanks for the reference to my post too. What a lovely surprise! In my head I could hear you reading your piece aloud. Beautiful.

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