I have always loved newspapers. In high school, I joined the staff of the school paper in the ninth grade and never left. Well, graduation finally made me relinquish my mighty pen, but not until I had a scholarship to continue my journalistic dreams in college.
I was well trained for college because of the drill sergeant I had for an instructor in high school. Martha Faught was legendary for striking fear into the hearts of students and school board members alike. She was the most straightforward lady I ever met. If my work was good, I knew it. If the work was poor, I'd hear about it in a most colorful fashion.
Faught's very direct manner with her students did not win her any favors, but I grew to appreciate it. It took me a little longer to learn appreciation for the number of corrections I had on my articles during my freshman year.
Faught's favorite weapon was a red Bic pen that oozed so easily upon my writing that my original content was almost invisible beneath its bloody aftermath. Had the pen actually contained blood, I'm certain that it would have been anemic after one proofreading.
Other teachers even joked that Faught wrote the newspaper and used our names to do it. That was the shallow view of things. Half way through my sophomore year, I saw a pattern emerging in the wake of her pen's carnage that set me on a new path.
What I previously viewed as unwarranted criticism was really just the fine tuning that made my words flow like the lyrics of a favorite song. I soon began seeing less red ink as I started letting my own pen dance to its new-found rhythm.
Though I disliked the process in learning good writing, I loved the freedom that resulted. I now felt that I owned the words rather than being held captive by them. Martha Faught never won a popularity contest, but she was a genius with writing and once you got past her rough edges, she was actually very kind.
I talked a lot in class, like really a lot. My report cards regularly stated that I needed more self control, which was a polite way of saying, "Please shut up and pay attention." In Faught's journalism class, I talked about God much of the time. I was just beginning to heal from my father's death and He deserved all of the credit for that.
By the last edition of the school paper of my senior year, I wrote a sermon to my classmates that was thinly disguised as an editorial. Faught rolled her eyes numerous times as she prepared to remove some of my comments. Suddenly, she threw up her hands and declared, "Oh, what the hell, this is just you being you, so I'm not going to touch it!" For that gracious act, along with her impeccable German chocolate cake that she often shared with us, we remained friends until her death.
Much of my life has undergone some fine tuning since high school, just like my early days of writing. Often, I haven't appreciated the coarse nature of some of those corrections, but under God's handiwork, many of those occasions made me a better person. By the image I saw in the mirror this morning, there is still much more work to be done.
What I try to be mindful of, when my life looks like a bloody mess, is that there is still good content underneath what looks like rubbage. There remains a rhythm to be heard and a song to be sung. This whole process would go much better if I would quit re-writing the lyrics and inserting my own tunes.
Like Martha Faught, who did not need my inspiration to write well, God has already written out a beautiful story for my life. Likewise, God doesn't feel the need to look good for others to like Him. He, too, is pretty straightforward. Sometimes, He completes what makes us beautiful after we've left this earth and He doesn't feel compelled to explain why. We just need to trust His process.
Whatever situation you face, waiting for God to reveal His intended rhythm for your life will bring new purpose and freedom and safeguard you from years of frustration or resentment. I'm not pretending that every morsel from God's hand will taste like Faught's German chocolate cake, but I will promise that it will make you stronger and well adapted for the good things He has planned for you.