Stop Me if You've Heard This One Before

I was talking with my wife about a popular Christian author, and she commented that his last several books have been recycled from earlier ones. I heard another writer, a favorite of mine, joke that all his many books are about the same basic truth.

In music you might call this a “one-hit wonder”  - somebody who made a career singing variations of one great song.

I know there are a few wonderfully imaginative, endlessly brilliant people out there whose creativity bubbles up like a fountain all their lives. They seem always to be able to share new ideas, different plots and characters, diverse themes and insights. But most of us aren’t that creative. We may have one or two good ideas in our whole life, and so if you’re a teacher or writer or composer (or blogger), you might eventually sound like a broken record.

 

We’ve all had friends or loved ones who launch into the same story over and over again. "Stop me if you've heard this one before," they might say. Sometimes we listen politely and laugh in the right spots. Or we may get impatient and interrupt: "Yeah, Grandpa, you already told that one…”

Maybe I am approaching the broken record stage in my own life. Maybe I’ve run out of ideas. But I think it makes all the difference what story you keep telling.

When the Lord takes me home, and I’m no longer writing or telling stories, I would be pleased if what people remembered is that the story I kept telling, the song I kept singing, was how wonderful my Savior is. Actually, I don't mind at all if they've heard it before. I intend to kept telling it.

I stand amazed in the presence
Of Jesus the Nazarene,
And wonder how He could love me,
A sinner, condemned, unclean.

O how marvelous! O how wonderful!
And my song shall ever be:
O how marvelous! O how wonderful!
Is my Savior’s love for me!

You Have to Read the Last Chapter

I grew up reading James A. Michener’s sprawling, historical novels - like The Source, Hawaii, and Chesapeake. I became so engrossed in the novel Centennial that I kept it in the car while I was driving. At every stop light I would read a few sentences until the light changed.

I was deep into the characters of Levi Zendt and his bride Elly, young newlyweds from Pennsylvania, making their way west by covered wagon. Although their story takes place in the early 1800’s, somehow I identified with them and wanted to see them do well. My heart went out to the young couple, with all their hopes and dreams, as they faced adversity together.

So while driving around town, I stopped at a red light and opened the book again. Levi and Elly had reached the Rocky Mountains, and had just discovered they were going to have a baby. Then, in the space of about two sentences, a rattlesnake struck Elly in the throat and she died.

Noooooooo! You can't do that! I yelled. I hurled the book into the backseat just as the light turned green. I can't believe it! Why would anyone write a story this way!

It probably sounds a little nuts, but I was angry at James A. Michener. Why would he bring so much suffering into the lives of characters I had come to love? I vowed never to pick up the book again.