I just started reading the coolest story. It’s a first person account by a 17-year-old boy who is (self-professed) weird. His clothing and hair style are…unusual. He is highly confident, extremely articulte. In clever and witty dialogue, he starts telling what he can of his story. When he was a child, he suddenly “woke up” – right in the middle of events he was part of, but with no memory of anything that had happened prior to that moment. He goes from non-sentient to aware – BLAM! – just like that, scaring the boy-howdy out of the people around him since he had apparently never spoken before. They are NOT good people that he’s with, and he ends up running away, being chased by them. He makes it to an alley where he suddenly and inexplicably drops, having only enough time to roll out of sight behind a dumpster. He wakes up there the next morning.
I know, right?!
There’s a problem, though, and it’s one I encounter far too often: The story ends there.
I know, right?!
On this, the last day of NaNoWriMo, when I’m trying not to be too hard on myself for not finishing…again, I’m browsing through the other documents on my little flash drive that a friend told me looked like a Lego. My search turned up this gem that I had totally forgotten about. I love this kid! After his awakening and his escape, he gave himself his name – Buddy Skye – and explains he chose it because he heard a lady calling her dog, Buddy, and she sounded so happy and so in love that he wanted the name too. I mean – come on! Where did I get THAT?
I had so much fun reading through those 1600 words. I was being carried along by the story as if I knew nothing about it.
And that’s because I know nothing about it.
I have absolutely no idea where I was going with this story. I know I once had an idea of where he came from and where he was heading, but whatever it was is gone the way of Grandma’s cookie recipe and my favorite ear buds. Forever out there in Somewhereland.
I’m glad I had the sense to take this idea when it hit me and just run with it – get it down while it churned around in there. But oh how I wish I’d added a few notes and arrows on the map of this story.
And now I’m almost afraid to search further through my little blue Lego. There is a plethora of stories like this one in there – once loved and now unfinished (including this year’s NNWM story) and in some cases, like Buddy Skye, forgotten almost entirely.
I feel a little like Buddy these days, a bit unfinished, and a bit forgotten. I’ve reached this crazy and sometimes scary age when I have to admit that all the gonnas ain’t gonna. The sad part is when I am aware of specific gonnas as they hit that list. I hate those funeral services. Recently, I became conscious of the fact that I was almost cowering before God. Confused, I did a thought inventory and realized I was drenched in apology.
“I’m sorry I haven’t done the things You’ve given me to do. I’m sorry I’ve messed up Your plan for me. I’m sorry-“
What hutzpah. Who am I to think I could mess up what God has planned? Is He so small that I could stop Him? Or even slow Him down?
As my daughter would say, “That’s crazy talk!”
Once I finished apologizing for THAT, a new realization started and began to grow…
If I can’t mess up God’s plan, that means He still has one. I’m in it or am heading toward it, but He hasn’t forgotten me and He’s not done with me. I am not an unfinished story He’s stumbled across and wonders where in the world He was going with that one.
So I open my eyes a little wider and keep looking for God Stuff. He won’t forget me, but I don’t want to miss the fun. I want to be a fully aware participant in His plan.
In the meantime, I think I’ll dig Buddy Skye out of that flash drive and see if the Master Writer will help me remember THAT plan. If there was a map, I know He kept a copy of it. I look forward to huddling together, at least one of us gripping a mug of coffee, as we take that crazy kid through his designated route on the course that was planned for him.