Writing tips and how-tos: Keeping the tension in a scene

I edit a lot of manuscripts by first-time writers: biography, memoir, fiction and non-fiction. A common issue that comes up is how to build and keep the tension in a scene. 

Tension is like a flower; it starts small, grows, blossoms, and then, at the right time, comes into its own glory.

We have agapanthus flowers out the front of our house. They start as a green bulb-shaped pod. Over time, the bulb expands and its covering dies off. Eventually, when the pressure from the flower is so great that the dead covering can't hold it any more, the flower bursts out for everyone to see.

Sometimes I've tried to 'help' the flower along, pulling off the dead covering before the flower is ready, but it hasn't helped. That flower needs time to come to its full beauty.

The same is true for tension in a scene. It needs time to grow and come into its own.

I often find that first time writers build half the picture, but lose, or almost bury, the key tension moment right at the last moment.

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Here's a real-life example of a scene in which the tension was buried:

I lived with a childless couple, Mr and Mrs Jones, in the country during the war, because all the children were shipped away from the city for their own safety. It was a happy place, and I started calling the couple Mother and Pop. They treated me like the son they had never had. It was a happy time and I enjoyed life in Wales.

Meanwhile, Mum and Dad decided to visit me, just to make sure I really was alright, despite my happy, weekly letters. Mr and Mrs Jones invited them to stay in their home, but their generosity had unforeseen consequences.

Just before the visit, Mrs Jones said to me, “Now Jimmy, when your mother comes to stay you mustn’t call me ‘Mother’, you must call me Mrs Jones. Call your mother ‘Mother’ and your father ‘Dad’. Don’t call Mr Jones ‘Pop’.  Do you understand all that, Jimmy?” I expect I replied that I would remember, but of course I didn’t. I let the proverbial cat out of the bag when I got excited, playing with the real cat on the coconut matting on the kitchen floor.

Mother was understandably distressed and took me home the next day, ‘for my own good’ of course.

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I have used this scene to teach tension with Year 9 students. After reading it with them, I ask them these three questions:

1.         What is the crisis point of this scene?

2.         How much space is allocated to it, in this version?

3.         Draw the scene as a graph, in terms of time and tension.

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Then I show them this rewritten version of the scene:

I lived with a childless couple, Mr and Mrs Jones, in the country during the war, because all the children were shipped away from the city for their own safety. It was a happy place, and I started calling the couple Mother and Pop. They treated me like the son they had never had. It was a happy time and I enjoyed life in Wales.

Meanwhile, Mum and Dad decided to visit me, just to make sure I really was alright, despite my happy, weekly letters. Mr and Mrs Jones invited them to stay in their home, but their generosity had unforeseen consequences.

Just before the visit, Mrs Jones called me into the kitchen. Her face was serious, and I felt nervous. “Now Jimmy, when your mother comes to stay you mustn’t call me ‘Mother’, you must call me Mrs Jones.” She looked at me intently, so I nodded, as though I understood.  “Call your mother ‘Mother’ and your father ‘Dad’,” she said. “Don’t call Mr Jones ‘Pop’.”

I fiddled with the tablecloth a little. The cat jumped up so I patted it.

“Do you understand all that, Jimmy?” Mrs Jones repeated, taking my hand and holding it in hers. “It’s important.”

I raised my eyes to her face, which still looked worried. “Yes, I understand,” I said. “You’re Mr and Mrs Jones, and my Mum and Dad are my Mum and Dad. I won’t forget.”

A smile flooded her face, and I felt relaxed. “Can I play with the cat now?”

“Of course.”

When Mother and Dad arrived, I hugged them tight and danced around them and called them ‘Mum and Dad’. When Mrs Jones made them tea in the kitchen, I sat by them while they talked together. It wasn’t until the cat came in and started batting her paw against the coconut matting that I got distracted and moved across to play with her in the sunshine.

“That’s a lovely cat,” said my mother, to Mrs Jones. “But I hope Jimmy doesn’t give her any trouble.”

“Oh, he’s usually very kind to her,” said Mrs Jones. She directed her voice to me. “You’re normally a good boy, aren’t you Jimmy.”

I looked at Mrs Jones. “Yes, Mother, I am,” I said. And then I stopped. “I mean, yes, Mrs Jones, I am...”

There was a sudden silence. I could feel my face turn red; I could hardly breathe. Mrs Jones had turned away to the sink; she seemed to be doing something with the dishes, and my own mother had a stretched face and tight lips. “It’s a lovely place here,” she said, but I could tell she didn’t mean it.

“Yes,” said Mrs Jones. “Thank you.” And I could tell she didn’t mean it either.

The next day, my mother took me away from the Jones’ house.

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“What are the main differences between the two versions of this scene?” I ask the kids, and straight away they can tell me three key ones: length, dialogue and the set-up that indicates the crisis is coming.

All scenes should have tension, and as writers, we must remember to give that tension the space and time it needs to develop and flourish so that when it comes to the point of crisis, we are ready to feel it and be part of it.

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Questions for us as writers:

1.      Do we set up a scene so that it includes tension?

2.      Do we use dialogue to build the tension?

3.      Do we give the tension the space it needs to grow?

4.      Do we bury the crisis point, or allow it to take up the space it needs?

Making Progress...

As I'm writing this post, my 14 year old son is on the floor in front of me working on the exercises set by his physiotherapist. He works hard at these exercises every day as they help strengthen his left leg. Last Easter, he came down with a condition called Complex Regional Pain Syndrome in his left leg, and he wasn't able to walk, wear shoes, or even go to school! He has worked really hard and about six weeks ago, left the crutches behind to attend a new school. His hard work has really paid off.

During the time he has been unwell, there has been steady progress in his health, but there have also been setbacks. He didn't let these setbacks stop him. If they had, he wouldn't be walking right now.

While living through his journey, it's easy to get caught up in how hard it is. He was having at least three rehab appointments every week at one stage, along with juggling Distance Education, his brother at school part time, and work! But now, watching him do his exercises, we can reflect on how far he has come, even though there is still a long way to go.

This may not seem like it has much to do with writing, but it does!

Every story we write and publish is a journey, and it can be long and hard, and there are setbacks. These could be in the form of writer's block, rejections from publishers, feelings of doubt, or even simply life knocking us off course. In spite of the setbacks, we work at our writing, editing, publishing, and promotion to get our stories written and out there.

When we're in the middle of the journey, there are times when we can feel like giving up and forgetting about our writing dreams, however, if we keep going, we will get there.

Along the way, it helps to sit back and reflect on how far we've come. It could be looking at the number of manuscripts we've written, submissions made, books published, or anything else that's we've achieved. This doesn't mean the journey is over, it just means we are well on our way.

So, while I'm watching my son do his exercises and reflecting on how far he has come, I can see a box containing copies of books with my name on the cover that reminds me how far I have come in my writing journey. The effort he puts in and the differences in the strength of his legs show how far he has to go, just as the half-finished manuscripts on my computer and drafts floating around the house show me how far I have to go in my writing journey.

Every day, my son amazes me with his progress and I have to keep reminding myself that only a couple of months ago he couldn't walk.

Melissa Gijsbers lives in Melbourne with her two teenage sons and their pet blue tongue lizard. During the day, she works as the business manager of the family business, and at night she writes children's chapter books.

Follow her writing journey at www.melissawrites.com.au and www.melissagijsbsers.com

The Ghost of Christmas Past

Original artwork by Melinda Jensen

2016 has been a tough year, both here in Australia and throughout the globe. Wars and the inevitable atrocities that accompany them, are escalating. Americans too, must be feeling the winds of change acutely – some distressed by the presidential election results and others by the conflict and worldwide criticism that have ensued in the wake of their political choice. It's a situation that leaves the global community divided and fearful.

Only one thing seems certain. Emotions are high. We all tend to become further entrenched in our positions during times of high stress, desperate to either flee or fight. Fear becomes our sole motivation. Yet, at times of great turmoil it's both far more important and far more difficult to hold tight to God and follow His lead.

I have heard many stories of woe and heartache during the past year, clothed in robes of bitterness, anger, sorrow and fear. People are turning on each other, unashamedly claiming to not care about what happens to others beyond their shores, or even their own neighbourhoods. I was shocked to learn that some of my overseas friends feel this way about Australia, and therefore me and mine. Disturbingly, I have heard the harshest judgements from fellow Christians who seem to feel more than justified in turning away the needy and allowing the less fortunate to go hungry and homeless. I can only wonder at how much this grieves the Father's heart.

Enchanted by (or is it morbidly fascinated with) Charles Dickens' 'A Christmas Carol' since I was a child, I find myself ruminating about its metaphors and wondering if the world is currently 'stuck', like the bah-humbug Ebenezer Scrooge before he meets the ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future.

How would most of us fare if visited by the Ghost of Christmas Past, the first eerie visitor to Scrooge's miserly hearth right before Christmas?

This angelic spirit, as I prefer to think of it, shows Scrooge scenes from his past that occurred around Christmas-time, to demonstrate the necessity of changing his ways, as well as to show the reader how Scrooge came to be so bitter and cold-hearted. The lesson here, of course, is that none of us are born this way. Life is often cruel, just as it was for the young Ebenezer, who grew up, devoid of real love in a miserable boarding school, abandoned by his father.

As the years went by, he faced many hardships of the kind almost bound to break his heart and alienate him from his fellow human beings. And yet, life is not all about circumstance.

Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net/Stuart Miles

As I've entered my fifties I've realized that very few people live a charmed life, and most of us have stories of heartache that helped shape who we are. When I look around me I see those who have grown through these experiences into more compassionate and aware human beings; and of course, I see those who've hardened their hearts, determined to look out for number one and only number one.

There is always the element of choice. The ghost of Christmas past doesn't linger on a sense of blame, despite relentlessly bringing painful scenes before the hapless Scrooge. Instead, he largely allows Scrooge to relive the painful memories he's so successfully snuffed out over the years. Without bringing those memories to the fore, none of us can hope to understand why we are the way we are; nor are we able to effect personal change and lay to rest any attitudes of resentment, fear and bitterness, the very attributes that are running rampant on today's world stage.

As Christians, we don't need to believe in, or encounter, ghosts. We have our very own, accessible and willing, supernatural God, ready to lead us gently on a tour of our painful pasts and re-establish His heart within us. That heart knows no bounds when it comes to compassion, empathy, generosity, kindness and acceptance. It is tireless in taking in the world's orphans and widows, the wounded and homeless, the desperate and starving, the lonely and heartbroken. He gives no heed to the colour of our skin or what part of the world we come from, but he does care what he finds deep in our hearts. Let's not disappoint Him in the coming year. Let's pray for a world-wide epiphany, a global 'Ebenezer Scrooge aha! Moment.'

by Melinda Jensen

www.killingmesoftly.co

Melinda follows Jesus as closely as she can, learning every day. Passionate about social justice, equality, the environment and mostly, discerning and activating her purpose according to who she is in Christ. She has had a humble number of short stories and poems published, in print and on the web; and is working on a couple of short stories for young people. She kids herself she might one day be able to do her own illustrations.

All My Little Problems (and they are little when juxaposed to homelessness, hunger, persecuted church) Are Nothing Compared To That BIG Picture

Yes, I will probably bore you with some family pictures. Four of seven kids (we 

homeschooled our kids). (They're saying farm chores aren't what they wanted to do at the 

moment.) :-)

They are great with their faces, aren't they?

Before

After

Ivy's lifelong (also homeschooled) best friend when Ivy and Sarah had a facetime about all of this.

Ivy being the only girl with six brothers has learned to stand up for herself through the 

years. She started college in August. By November she had been attacked. So now the 

therapy begins. 

Ben is a senior this year. He is in the top picture on the right in the white shirt (and 

glasses). Two wrecks in 6 months. He just had another wreck Monday.

As I look at these pics, I see innocence. Ivy's was stolen. I also see God. He's bringing 

us through. And I see my writing. Without which, I would have gone mad. So God, 

innocence and writing. All tied together in a Christmas bow. I am not saying that I 

celebrate these life things that have happened to our family (please read on about that). 

But I am saying, God gives us the strength. The strength to cope. 

Since I last left you, my husband has a severe throat problem, my inbox was wiped out, 

my website has vanished, Ben had another wreck, I had another biopsy, Ivy was attacked.  

You've heard people say that He never gives you more than you can handle, right? Well, I 

say He lets things happen to ready us for His Kingdom. He knows that it is more than we 

can handle. He wants us to learn trust and faith and mercy and grace. And the writing 

part is in the plan. The plan that gets us through the life stuff.

I discovered that voice is really the persona we portray in a piece of writing. Pain helps 

us find our writing voice. That is wonderful to me. It gives me pleasure and joy to know 

He is walking with me. And that means if I have to go through all of this to know Him 

better and to understand Heaven, then so be it. So yes, I celebrate.

Isaiah 42:13 For I am the LORD your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to 

you, Do not fear; I will help you.

He will help you. With life. He'll show you how to use trials to benefit your life and your 

writing. And teach you that He'll never leave your side. Lean on Him for everything. 

Even when you don't understand. Because HE understands. Because HE cares. And 

we were never promised a rose garden here on earth. AND because this place is NOT 

our home. 

Merry Christmas from the Campbell family to all of you. 

The well-read wise men

Once at Christmas time, I bought this little box at the Community Aid Abroad shop down in my city. On the box is a picture of the three kings, and inside is a gold candle and two little bags, full of chunks of frankincense and myrrh. You're meant to place the little rocks in the candle flame to fill your room with fragrance. So far, I've preferred to leave them intact, for a sniff every so often around this season. They are a beautiful, sensual Christmas keepsake.

A small roll of parchment tells how these three items were presented to the Baby Jesus by the Magi, after their long trek from the east to follow his star and find him. Once, one of my sons said, "They weren't very thoughtful presents, were they? Why would a baby or toddler want those last two things? It sounds like they were giving him what they would have wanted to receive rather than what he would have wanted."


I was glad he was thinking about the principles of gift giving, but had to laugh to think of the Wise Men toting rattles and building blocks across miles of desert on their camels. I've even heard theories that Mary and Joseph themselves might have been bemused by the last two items, after saying, 'Thanks very much for the gold.'

But objects in the Bible always carry great significance. A lot of thought did go into those gifts, and in retrospect, they were proven to be perfect for the recipient.

Gold represents kingship. It has always been an extremely precious metal valued by royalty, and symbolises Jesus' kingship over us, and all his creation. He is Sovereign over things on earth and in heaven.

Frankincense is a luxurious perfume or incense made from the resin, or gum, of a particular tree. It's highly fragrant when burned. This may symbolise Jesus' priestly role in our lives. He was the ultimate High Priest, willingly born to be a bridge between God and mankind, identifying perfectly with both. Nobody else could intercede so perfectly. What he achieved by his life and death allows us directly into God's presence. The frankincense in my little kit smells wonderful.

Myrrh is an anointing oil obtained by making incisions into the bark of another specific tree, and allowing the gum to flow out. This gift looked ahead to that baby's sacrificial death on our behalf, enabling us to stand clean and right with God. The baby grew up to be somebody who would take the punishment all men and women deserve on his own shoulders. Now, as well as being assured of a heavenly afterlife, we know we can shake off all guilt, feelings of unworthiness and being unable to measure up in this life too. The myrrh also smells really lovely.

I like to ponder the men who brought these gifts to Jesus. They had the best ever reason to embark on a long, gruelling trek through scorching sun and driving wind. Their route no doubt varied from appearing totally God-forsaken to containing dangerous brigands and crooks, anxious to prey on passers-by. I can imagine their satisfaction when they finally made it to the modest abode of the infant boy, and were able to say, "Here he is. Not many know his significance, but we do."

These men are the perfect examples of the benefits a well-read life may produce. Their vigilant reading and studies enabled them to grasp what was taking place in history. If they hadn't been so vigilant, they would have missed it and been none the wiser. It reminds me of the great things that can happen, and the insights we can receive, when we delve into books. Fiction and non-fiction alike can contain lots of treasure we may miss. Here's to a good year of reading and writing for us all in 2017.

I wish you all a wonderful and blessed Christmas.

Paula Vince is a South Australian author of contemporary, inspirational fiction. She lives in the beautiful Adelaide Hills, with its four distinct seasons, and loves to use her environment as settings for her stories. Her novel, 'Picking up the Pieces' won the religious fiction section of the International Book Awards in 2011, and 'Best Forgotten' was winner of the CALEB prize the same year. She is also one of the four authors of 'The Greenfield Legacy', Australia's first and only collaborated Christian novel. Her most recent novel, 'Imogen's Chance' was published April 2014. For more of Paula's reflections, you may like to visit her book review blog, The Vince Review

A Life of Their Own

Have you ever felt as if your characters have taken over your story? In one of my works in progress my characters keep taking over the narrative. I want the tale to go in a certain direction and voila I wake up the next day and the characters insist on doing their own thing. I mean, how rude? I’m the author and so I should be the boss of my story. Right?

I suspect something like this is happening:

It was quiet. The author had gone to bed but Chloe couldn’t sleep—not now that she’d found out what could happen to her. She stared at the screen that was the barrier between herself and her creator. What could she do? She didn’t want to die.

It was a conundrum. She had only just become aware of the screen and that there was someone on the other side determining her destiny. What right had the author to dictate her fate? That she could die in 1952? It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right. But, other than Ethan possibly saving her, what could she do about it? She had to save herself.

Chloe reached out and touched the screen. She thought it might have been electrified but it was cool to the touch. She placed both hands on the shimmering surface and to her astonishment they went through the iridescence. She stumbled forward and found herself in another realm.

She caught her breath. How could this be possible? Then again she’d travelled in time and space from present day Melbourne to 1950s France. That hadn’t been impossible—not according to the author—so why couldn’t she leap beyond the story? She was real—in all the ways that mattered—and she could determine her own destiny.

Chloe glanced around the room. She was in a house not that much bigger than her own. She smiled to herself at the snoring coming from what must be the bedroom then jumped as a little voice behind her said, “Hello.” She let out a nervous giggle when she realised it was a small, pet bird.

The snoring stopped and she held her breath, cursing her lack of self-control. What would she do if she were discovered? But the snoring resumed again and all was well.

Chloe turned her attention to the computer. She’d memorised the password from the last log on and it was simple to find the file. She frowned as she read through the latest chapter. This would never do. She pondered for a moment. If she erased the text, the author would just rewrite it. Chloe didn’t know if she’d be able to escape from the pages again any time soon. The author usually shut the computer down at night. She bit her lip as she searched through the other files. Research … character … outline ... . That was it!

Chloe opened the file. Her eyebrows lifted as she read. She hadn’t thought of that outcome! She chewed on her lip again and a small smile quirked on her lips as she began typing.

The sky outside held the first blush of dawn when Chloe finished her work. She stood, stretched and placed both hands on the cool screen. In an instant she was back in her own world. At least now her destiny was surer.

The antagonist watched as Chloe reappeared through the shimmering screen and hurried away down a dark street. He’d been waiting for his chance ever since he’d seen her disappear into that other world. He placed his hands on the screen as she had done and leapt. He smiled with delight as he sat at the desk, cracked his knuckles and began to type.

Several hours later, the author plonked down into her seat and placed a steaming mug of coffee on the desk next to her computer. She yawned as she logged on but the yawn developed into a sigh. The outline file was open—again. Who was it this time? Last week it was Ethan who seemed to have a life of his own. Didn’t these characters realise that she, the author, was in charge? Why did they always want to take over? She pondered for a while then decided that this would be a great topic for a blog.

It fascinates me that this phenomenon happens again and again when I write. Well … characters don’t literally leap out of the screen and rewrite the story. Mind you, sometimes it would be good if they could. It would help me dig myself out of those dreaded plot holes. But most of us have experienced the protagonist who refuses to behave in the way we want them to. The characters take over the story and leave us, the creators of the work, to clean up the mess.

I once heard author Diana Gabaldon talk about the writing of her Outlander series. In the initial stages she tried hard to give Claire, her female protagonist, an eighteenth century voice but she kept sounding like a 20th century nurse. In the end Diana gave up and constructed a scenario where she could get this 20th century woman into the eighteenth century. The rest, as they say, is history.

There is an element to every creative process that goes beyond the normal workings of our rational mind. The creative brain (mind, soul, spirit) reaches into places we would never have dreamed of going ourselves (or maybe we would only have gone there in a dream). It makes writing a wonderful, crazy voyage of discovery.

How about you? Have you had characters take over your story. Do they have a life of their own? Did it help or hinder the story? Please let me know in the comments below :).

Sue Jeffrey was born in Scotland but moved to Brisbane, Australia with her family when she was just a wee lass. After a childhood spent reading, drawing and accumulating stray animals, Sue studied veterinary science and later moved to Adelaide where she worked as both a vet and a pastor. After a sojourn of several years in the Australian Capital Territory, Sue returned to Adelaide with two dogs, a very nice husband, and a deepdesire to write. Sue has a MA in creative writing and her short stories and poems have appeared in several anthologies including Tales of the Upper Room, Something in the Blood: Vampire Stories With a Christian Bite and Glimpses of Light. Sue won the 'short' category in the inaugural Tabor Adelaide/ Life FM 'Stories of Life' award and her e-book, 'Ruthless The Killer: A Short Story,' is available from Amazon.com. Sue also paints animal portraits.

Keep on Writing

I was getting ready to leave for the Omega Writer’s Conference in October when I saw it - a call for submmissions for a Children’s Picture Book Writing Competition. They were looking for “creative, winsome charming picture books that help parents instill an open-hearted, transformational, lifelong Christian faith in their children”. I did like the sound of that. Better still, the first prize was $5000.00. Whew! Not an amount to be sneezed at. There were no entrance fees either. I knew I must give it a go when I returned from conference.

Would it herald my big writing moment?

A week later, I came back refreshed and revitalised after a fabulous time in Sydney, having caught up up with those of like minds, learning an abundance of writerly wisdom, being inspired by people and places and best of all, filled with God’s joy. Unfortunately, as it often occurs, a week of intense fibro pain and weariness followed my energetic week away, so it was only a few days before that all important deadline that I had sufficient energy to sit down to create my story.

My dear friend Melissa popped in on the Friday before and spotted our family's pet giraffe (yes, he’s alive …or so we like to think). She suggested I write a story about Raffy - what a brilliant idea! The day before the story had to be submitted, I sat at my computer, concentrating hard. It took hours to craft and refine my award winning picture book. The next day was a busy one. My body felt weak and weary but I persevered, working also on my author bio and the story’s synopsis. Finally, close to midnight and exhausted, I was ready to send in my three documents. Just before I pressed the submit button, the competition’s terms and conditions popped up.

It was then my dream was shattered - a crystal vase smashed into a million shards.

The very first clause had my mouth open, while my jaw dropped a few kilometres downwards. Apparently, the competition was open only to US residents. I could have cried. I’d read the competition details many times over—but for some reason this vital fact had not been publicised. I could hardly believe it. How foolish I'd been!

I wonder what your writing year has been like. Was it filled with instant success, millions of books sold, a plethora of fan mail, TV appearances, a bulging bank balance and a celebrity lifestyle? If you are like many of us Christian writers, you are presently plodding away on your current story, a few drops of hope glistening in your heart, but perhaps also a wee bit discouraged about those writing dreams yet to be fulfilled.

In a few weeks, the curtain will fall on 2016 and we will be left with our memories of the past year. Whatever it brought you in your writing sphere and whatever the future holds for you, let me ask you three questions:

1. Has God called you to write for Him?
2. Have you strived to walk with Him?
3. Have you sought to be obedient to His call?

If you answered ‘yes’ to all three questions, let me shake your hand. Let me celebrate with you. Success for us comes not from the world’s yardstick of accomplishment. It’s simply getting up each morning and doing all that God calls us to do. Persevering. Learning from failure. Not giving up. Perhaps like me you've made a few blunders? No matter - God can redeem them all. He's good at that! So permit any discouragement to fly out of your window like a captive pigeon set free. Congratulate yourself for all the writing you’ve done these past 12 months. Celebrate your conquests with a smile. And let your heart be quick to hear the sound of God’s ‘Well done’.

And now ... put on your writer’s shimmering cloak of joy.
And Keep On Writing.

“Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”
Philippians 3:13-14


Anusha Atukorala is a writer and speaker with music in her heart and a message to proclaim. The abundant love of a faithful God is her theme song. God’s call to writing in 2007 led Anusha on a Grand Adventure which continues to surprise and thrill her. Anusha loves to build the body of Christ and to encourage others through the written and spoken word. Her first book ‘Enjoying the Journey’ is comprised of 75 little God stories. She has twelve short stories published in Anthologies and plenty more books in the pipeline. Do drop in to say G’day at her website Dancing in the Rain. She’d love to meet you.

A Word for the Season.

As the Christmas season has obviously begun it's countdown to the 25th December people worldwide begin a celebration that reflects a blending of ideas, icons and themes that are as diverse as the cultures that have embraced the mass of Christ's birth. For me personally it is an opportunity to reflect on central themes, not of a religious celebration, or even just of the birth of a world changing child, but perhaps way deeper than these ideals is a simple Truth. Expressed in a word. A word that has come to hold such meaning it defines much of what I do and say, who I am, and what I aspire to be. 

Before I share this word allow me to reflect on some of the ideas I shared at the Omega writers conference a few weeks ago.

I shared about the power of words.Words unlock other worlds. This is quite prophetic for God has called you by name and has a purpose for you. What world has God unlocked for you? Words inspire us to change the world. As we discover the Truth of key words we recognise that words create foundations for our lives. What words are you allowing to define you?

In 2 PETER 1:5-8 the apostle gives us several key words to reflect on: 

"For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge;  and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness;  and to godliness, mutual affection; and to mutual affection, love.  For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ."

At conference I focused on the word that brought action to all the qualities listed.  "Add".

The original Greek of  this word is "Epichorēgeō" which comes from a word suggesting lavish provision. Other English translations render this word as "supply" .  The word "Epichorēgeō" was used in classical Greek to describe the munificence of rich citizens to fit out a war host in preparation for battle.  It had a special reference to the abundant supplies provided to complete a mission.  The key Peter is making clear is that we are responsible to “supply” the graces listed, out of the power of the Grace that God has given us.

As I reflect on this power in the words that come to define us, or the ones that we need to ensure we are supplying in to our faith-walk to help us enrich the world there is a key word that stands out for me. This is reflected in the narratives we have of the Christ story that is told in ever so many ways over the season. It is good to be reminded that core to the story of Christ’s birth is the

“mindset of Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross! (Philippians 2:6-8).

The word that holds so much meaning, that defined Jesus, and prayerfully shapes my reality is “Humility”.

Jesus was willing to be humble enough to live, identify with, immerse, incarnate, love, associate with the broken, poor, diseased, those in need of a saviour. And that means me too.

Perhaps in the Christmas narrative this is most beautifully born out in the choice of the marginalized, disempowered peoples who were known as shepherds in the 1st Century, being the first to receive the message of the Hope of the world, from none less than a sky filled with Angels. The photo of a shepherd was taken in Nazareth in Israel 2 years ago on my Masters in Ministry with Harvest College Archaeology of the Bible Lands exploration. My desire is that I too would express Christ's heart to those who are our contemporary marginalized. I hope I can express his love, deliver his peace, and be faithful in my life journey as I seek Him, do justice and walk humbly.

As writers we should be ensuring that the words we write are helping to change the world as truth-filled expressions of God’s character. In our pursuit for great storytelling it may be tempting to bypass Truth telling for creative license. Often there is a notable tension in some of our narratives: How to remain both creatively appealing and spiritually sound.

How important is it to express Truth and God’s character?

Perhaps the best way to begin this process is to consider what “Humility” means and embrace its qualities. Perhaps the Christmas season, the year ahead, and our future would flow with a peace and joy that comes simply as we express this reality that is at once a just revelation of Jesus, and also how he would have the Kingdom that is His be received in this Earth.

Consider further the words in Philippians 2:

“Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind.  Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others. In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset of Christ Jesus.” Be Humble.

May the Joy and revelation of the season be yours. 

Shane Brigg

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