What's New Pussycat?

The only disappointing thing I’ve noticed about the MTW blog is the alarming dearth of celebrity name dropping. Let me correct that for you right now. When I was a boy, Tom Jones was a constant presence in our house. Every time I opened the airing cupboard, the hairy chested Welsh crooner was smiling back at me. ‘What the rock and roll was he doing in there? did you say? Well, sadly for my mum, he was life-sized, but only in poster form stuck to the back of the door. Do you remember ‘What’s New Pussycat?’. Well Tom, since you’re asking, blogging is new to me. This is my debut, so I know you’ll be gentle and forgive a truly terrible segue into talking about new things. The Bible has a lot to say about new things, too. It’s quite a theme. I thought about opening with that and then I went with Tom.

When I retired from policing a few years ago, it was a crossroads moment. Not a nice, simple junction, more like the crazy Arc du Triomphe in Paris at rush hour. If you’ve been unfortunate/brave enough to navigate it, you’ll know what I mean. If you haven’t, stick it into Google and gasp at the videos. I had a few vague ideas about what to do next and other people were super generous with their own, but what was God’s plan? I had always believed policing was God’s calling for me, but in the blink of an eye, that part of my life was history. It was time for something different. I was certain a clear pathway would emerge, but, frustratingly, that wasn’t my experience. The more I tried to discern the road ahead, the less I could see. The fog surrounding me simply wouldn’t clear. I looked hard for signs, but God kept me guessing. He can be annoying sometimes, can’t he? Perhaps I was being asked to exercise this thing called faith? You may have heard of it.

Of the many new possibilities I pondered over, writing was certainly not one of them. When a defence lawyer puffs out their chest during a hotly contested trial and says ‘Officer, having read your statement it’s clear to me, and no doubt the jury, you have a gift for creative writing’, it plays into their hands if you look delighted and reply, ‘thank you.’ Imagine my surprise then, when one day I just started writing. Creatively! There had been no desire, no build-up, and no signs. It was something altogether new. One moment I was on the sofa staring blankly into the distance and the next I was creating characters and wrapping a story around them. Where did that come from? Being slow on the uptake, I made no connection between this unexpected event and my search for a new direction. I have a solid track record of failing to recognise God showing up.

And that’s how I landed here. Despite a legion of doubts, lack of talent, and conflicts of time, the calling to write has doggedly hung in there, although I keep the possibility of writing an actual book carefully filed under P for pipedream. I’m in the foothills of my climb and I’m still asking God to be considerate enough to show me where this is going. To date, I have an endlessly redrafted novel as a work in progress, a couple of short stories and a small collection of poems. I make no claim of skill and I’m way off having the barefaced cheek to call myself a writer. It turns out that making up stories is harder than it felt at primary school.

When I’m trying something new, I reflect on something a pastor once told me. Alongside his UK ministry, he also regularly travelled to France and ministered there. From time to time, someone would approach him and declare they too felt called to the land of good wine and smelly cheese. 'Parlez-vous le francais?' he always asked. If they looked confused, he told them to come back once they’d learned the lingo. Rarely did he see them again. God may call us to something new, but the usual order of things is that we still must learn the craft. That’s where I’m at. Tortoise like I’m moving forward and asking God to shine just enough light to pierce the darkness. Frequently, the tortoise ends up on his back and needs a helping hand or a word of encouragement to roll over and get going again. 

Whether your writing is racing upwards to sunny hilltops or flat on its back in the weeds, I wish you every blessing this week as you follow God’s call. Tom got the first word; God gets the last. 

See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland. Isaiah 43:19