Putting Dreams on the Altar
In the Book of Genesis, God tests Abraham's faith by requiring him to bind his son, Issac, to an altar and sacrifice him. We all know how the story ends: at the last minute an angel intervenes, telling Abraham not to harm the boy.
The point was that God used the thing that Abraham cared the most about—his son—to test his faith. This act has been scrutinized over the centuries by the best thinkers. In fact, one of my favorite philosophers, Søren Kierkegaard, dedicated a very good book to the subject of Abraham's faith and what it means for Faith in general.
The sentence on the cover says it all: This ain't light readin'.
The idea of putting our dreams on the altar comes from Abraham's act. Lately I've begun to wonder whether I should be writing fiction, or at least whether I should be making it the main thrust of my writing. I think my fiction is good, and this view has been corroborated by many professionals in writing and publishing, not to mention a number of readers I respect. But as good as it may be, sometimes it's a question of timing. Folks just ain't buyin' what you're sellin' right now.
I believe that everything happens for a reason, and to the point of unanswered prayers or unfulfilled dreams, I believe that sometimes God, Spirit, the Force, or the Universe (or whatever you believe governs our cosmic soup) delays giving us our heart's desires because He or It wants to give us a chance to change our minds. Imagine for a moment if we got everything we wanted exactly when we wanted it. Remember the saying, "Be careful what you ask for because you just might get it"? Being made to wait for our dreams to come to pass gives us an opportunity to change our minds, and I think that's important.
In my case, I've begun to wonder if I want to be writing mystery fiction. I've already begun to feel stymied by the genre in that the conventions are pretty rigid and formulaic, and if you have anything serious to say about the world, this clearly isn't the forum for it. I've also begun to question what good my fiction would be doing for the world.
How will another murder mystery help people to improve their lives? How will this kind of writing do anything other than provide people with a temporary escape from the drudgery of everyday life? Not that the ability to do this has no value. It does. I just don't think I'm content with that.
A part of me misses teaching. Inspiring people. Awakening people to new ideas, things they've never considered before. Raising people's confidence and self-esteem. In short, I've been wondering if I should be writing work that teaches more than it entertains.
Today I made a decision. I'm taking what has been my most precious dream for a long time—becoming a successful published author of commercial fiction—and putting it on the altar. If I need to sacrifice that dream to find my true purpose, my true calling, then I'm willing to do it.
