Let Me Write the Story

Pen gripped ever so comfortably between my fingers –
I like the feeling of the ballpoint flowing across the page.
Memorized muscle movements transform thoughts into written words
on the sheet before me.

The openness of the page – so inviting, so freeing –
lures me to let the thoughts pour forth.
And writing in ink only heightens my words’ finality.
With the simple necessities of pen, paper, table, chair, and ideas,
I can craft any story or convey any idea…or can I really?

It seems in recent days like my grip on the pen is loosening
ever so slowly, like I’m not the only author of this story.
And I don’t want to be.

To write my life’s story from my own limited and miniscule perspective
would be like a student teaching a class that he had never studied before –
there is so much I do not know.
How can I write a good story when I don’t know all the characters
and how they fit together?
And yet I grip the pen.
For gripping the pen gives me the assurance that I control at least something,
that there is at least one thing I can count on being there tomorrow.

But that is false.
I know that it’s false, but why do I still hold the pen?
Why do I find it hard to rest until I’ve reached my writing goal for the day,
having written what I purposed to write when I greeted the dawn?

Perhaps I have a deep problem with authorship.
Perhaps I believe the false notion that on the cover of my life’s book,
the author’s name is Luke Daniel Hays.
That’s not even the subject of the book.
The subject of my life’s book is the same as everyone else’s:
an Author who loved His created characters so much that he wrote Himself into the story.
And remarkably, the series He’s writing through all the annals of history
somehow tie together.
It’s the same Author-God, the Master Storyteller, who has been gently asking me:
“Let Me write the story.”

“But I don’t know what will happen!”
“Let Me write the story.”
“Isn’t that too much of a risk?”
“Let Me write the story.”
“But I’m not ready for that yet!”
“Let Me write the story.”
“What if people’s hearts get hurt?”
“Let Me write the story.”
“How can my heart ever heal?”
“Let Me write the story.”
“But I don’t deserve such a blessing!”
“Let Me write the story.”
“Where will my necessities come from?”
“Let Me write the story.”
“If I just try harder, I’ll overcome it.”
“Let Me write the story.”
“But I can’t see what’s going to happen next!”
“Let Me write the story.”
“I don’t know the plan!”
“Let Me write the story.”

And in my heart of hearts, this is what I want to hear.
To know that there is an Author of our faith – that mysterious substance of things unseen –
sets my heart at ease.
The One who sees what I cannot see is writing what I cannot write,
and His stories are second-to-none.
Swallowing my pride and relinquishing the pen,
I discover a childlike liberty,
that same wide-eyed wonder with which a child crawls into his daddy’s lap,
concerned much less with the story being read for the 100th time
and much more with the predictable rise and fall of his daddy’s chest,
the kind and steady intonation of his voice,
and the calm assurance that there is no safer place to rest than this.

In this place of safety and rest, I am fascinated to just be with the kind Author.
Being in His presence soon erases all questions about
what will happen next in my story,
whom I will meet,
and how it will all work together.
For being with my Author God turns my heart away from worry, to wonder.
If we read books so that we might know the author’s heart and mind,
and yet we have a continual opportunity to live with the Author of all stories,
why would we ever again concern ourselves
with crafting and understanding our own stories?

The story of a life is one continually being written and read;
my story will not be opened for the first time once I’m gone – it’s being read right now.
So I would be wise to make knowing and loving my Author-God my life’s aim.
Being with Him.
For being with Him will always affect my doing.
If doing is how I measure my being, then I’ve once again taken the pen from His hands.

So, Author-God, I give You the pen of my life
and exchange my broken heart and ideas of ideal stories
for a continual place of rest in Your presence as You write my life.
I place my writing right hand in Yours,
for if I don’t, I will so quickly snatch back the pen
and begin writing what I think is mine to write.
In Your perfect story, write my character exactly as You’d like,
for I am Yours.
Thank You for the miracle of life – that I, a character in Your story,
could know You, its very Author.

My recent transformation

Never before has my physical appearance undergone such a transformation as it has in the past few weeks! While possessing the long and scraggly beard, I decided to have some fun with it...

Dressing up as Abraham Lincoln and reciting the Gettysburg Address

George Harrison of the Beatles at the English Cafe

Old man Antonio in "Much Ado About Nothing"

The incremental shave! I decided to surprise my fifth graders the week after the play by shaving off segments of my face while they were gone to other classes! First, was Lincoln (or an Amish man)

Then Alexander Pushkin, the famous Russian poet! I'm told I bear a striking resemblance to him! One teacher friend suggested that I go home on the metro as Pushkin. At first I hesitated, but then I decided to do it! Why? I thought, "Why not brighten a bunch of Russians' day?" So I did get quite a few mystified stares, a number of smiles, one prolonged gaze from a 12 year-old, and countless glance-aways, almost as if to say, "That guy's a freak...I can't bear to look at him any longer"!

But that's not all! Daniel Clark then had the idea of helping me get my first mullet ever. Before school last Wednesday, he carefully shaved the sides of my head so as to give me the ever so cool "business up front, party out back" effect, which is quite popular here with young boys and teenagers.

I only had the mullet for five hours before getting another haircut and returning to normalcy...finally!

Much Ado, Much To Do, March is Almost Through!

Oh the many things that have taken place in the last five weeks. Allow me to update you through pictures!

During our church's celebration of Men's Day (Day of the Defenders of the Fatherland), I couldn't pass up a picture with Sergei. He was wearing a Central Church of the Nazarene sweatshirt - and that's my amazing home church! Someone years ago must have donated that! I was so proud of home in that moment!

On February 21 we had a "Times of Your Life" English Cafe, during which we took a look at the trends, fads, and phrases of the fifties, sixties, seventies, eighties, and nineties. I dressed up in denim and long hair as I tried to become a convincing George Harrison of the Beatles. What do you think?

George Harrison...er, Luke and a Russian friend

Shavs, Dougie, and That...Luke, Phil, and Christiana. Three friends who are three days away from flying to Israel for Spring Break!

I've always loved paths and the abundant metaphor they are in Scripture, especially the Proverbs. A few Sundays ago, this was the beautiful wintry scene near my church after the service, and the lighted pathway brought a palpability to some Scripture I'd just read earlier that morning. I love moments like that!

First day of School Spirit Week. It was Prince and Princess Day in the elementary, and since I didn't have any prince gear, I decided to become Prince of the Nerds. Do you see any resemblance to Steve Urkel?

Day 2: Wacky Tacky Day. Are those long johns I see?

Day 3: Crayon Day. Without any prior planning, Christiana and I dressed up as brown crayons!

Antonio, Friar Francis, and Leonato...Luke, Tim, and Daniel. These amazing men of God are two of my best friends here in Moscow, and though I'm glad that they are following God's will next year, I will surely miss them as they return to the United States.

Ira continues to be such a blessing to me! So many times she is an embodiment of God's grace to me, so I recently gave her a middle name: Ira Grace Hays!

The Cast and Crew of Much Ado! For the first time in school history, we performed a Shakespeare play, and five faculty members had acting parts alongside the high schoolers! While physically taxing toward the end (didn't leave school until 8 or 9 for two to three weeks), it was one of the most memorable and worthwhile investments of time I've ever made. Performances were on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night, March 5-7. The audiences loved it!

Brother Antonio being detained by his younger brother Leonato while he explodes in anger at Claudio and Don Pedro.

"Here's our own hands against our hearts!" Beatrice and Benedict realize that they actually do love each other, and their friends' plot to unite them results in success in the final scene of the play.

How could a math-lover like me pass up the opportunity to celebrate Pi Day on Friday, March 13 (one day before March 14, 3.14)? Right before the feast of pies at lunchtime, my students competed to see who could memorize the most digits of pi after the decimal point, which is quite a task since pi is irrational and there are no repeating patterns in the digits. The contest winner memorized 100 digits! As his promised prize, I bought his lunch a number of days last week and presented him with a small New Testament.

Cherry pie, anyone?

Is that Reese's pie? I want some!

Some of the guys of Hinkson...Jeff, Luke, Russell, Tim, Daniel, Shane, and Phil. Living in this environment sure has a way of bringing closeness!

On Friday the 13th, our beloved class lizard, Lightning, died of unknown causes (perhaps old age). The next Tuesday, the girls in the class held a funeral for the little guy. We had singing, an official eulogy, comments from friends, a prayer, and finally a burial in snow. Lightning's corpse was carefully placed in an old cellphone box as a coffin.

Dressing up "Like a Greek" at the tail end of our ancient Greece unit.

Last Friday we had a class sledding party after school. It was so much fun!

One fifth grade girl ended up in a deep puddle of muddy, cold water - not the path she intended to take at the top of the hill!

"I'd never try to throw a snowball at one of the girls!" ....yeah right!

Rolling down the hill in unison!

Last Saturday, the fifth graders donated a lot of their own "old" items to sell in the annual Hinkson Community Rummage Sale. They did a great job of marketing, organizing, bargaining, and selling. When all was said and done, they had raised over 9,600 rubles ($280). So far this semester, my fifth graders have raised over $400 toward the cause of freeing modern-day slaves! I am so proud of them!

The money table for the rummage sale. They had the system down!

Yes, these past couple months have been so full, but they've been so rewarding, too. While my head does hit the pillow exhausted each night, it's a good exhausted, especially when I know I did everything in my power to keep in step with the Spirit throughout the twists and turns of the day. I guess you could say that I just love the adventure of life!

Thank you for all your prayers for my students and me. I continue to see growth in each of them, and that is cause to celebrate. Especially meaningful to me this year is how so many of the students are coming to me with very deep and personal questions about their faith; they want to know how they can make it real, how they can hear God's voice, how they can live out a Christian life at home with siblings who can be difficult. This flock under my care is starting to love the Good Shepherd more and more, and that's the reason I'm here!

Thank you for all your prayers for the English Cafe! God continues to bless this ministry! We're consistently at near full-capacity with 60-70 Russian friends, and nearly every week God has opened doors in the table conversation groups to share the truth of Christ and of the Bible. Just last Saturday night, a 28 year-old named Andrei approached me. He wanted to know why I came to Moscow. When I told him that God had called me, he then asked about my church. He said, "I'm searching for answers. I want to know the truth." He tried following the Jehovah's Witness path during these past couple years, and then he chose to abandon that route. He's struggling with each major church and religion claiming to be the Truth. I challenged him to examine the claims of Jesus Christ, who Himself declared, "I am the way and the truth and the life" (John 14:6). I explained to him that either Jesus is who He said He is, or He isn't. I encouraged him to explore Jesus through scripture and history to see if He indeed is God. For such a way of seeking can really narrow the search. Andrei was receptive to everything I said, and he wanted to get my cell phone number. I was so thrilled! Andrei hadn't even been in my table group, and yet he was that vulnerable about the position of his heart! Please pray for Andrei and others like him who are desperate to know the truth and can only find it in Jesus. Pray for our upcoming Easter Fair on April 11, as it is the culminating Cafe event of the semester, the one we've been waiting and planning for all along. Pray for the hearts of our Russian friends as they will encounter the truth of Easter!

Pray for safety, rest, and fellowship as I travel with some friends to Israel for Spring Break. It's already shaping up to be one of the most memorable weeks of my life, and I can't wait to walk through the Holy Land once again! I praise God for providing this opportunity!

Pray for staffing here at the school. Next year we are losing a lot of staff members (and families). So much is unknown about how positions will be filled, but join me in praying prayers of faith for God's provision.

Pray for the children I teach, that they would learn early the fear of the Lord (Psalm 34:11); love God with all their heart, soul, mind, and strength; and grow robust in their faith.

Thank you for following my journey and partnering with me in prayer and other means of support! Slava Bogu (Praise God!)

Finally, in the past month, God has really been taking me back to the elementary school of faith. He's teaching me all over again what it is to trust Him, and it's been humbling experience. Through the journey of the past few weeks, I've tried to capture the movements of my heart in a poem, which is posted above.