Screen

May 16, 1979
6:10 AM

I finally have been obedient to the insistent voice that says the focus for today is “screen”. I so want the content of these messages to be bright and beautiful that I resist words or themes that seem, to my mind, to lead nowhere. I have trouble remembering that the process is even more important…. The “being still and knowing that I am God.” The words are a screen through which beauty can be perceived… the beauty that comes with commitment to the Lord.

One can see through a screen, and when the scene beyond is truly beautiful the screen makes hardly a difference. Yet if one’s eyes focus on the screen, the beauty beyond fades and dims. A screen may be beautiful, in a way (some are made to be beautiful rather than merely functional), and so, too, words may transmit meaning and color. But the beyond, the commitment, the discipline… this is the true treasure.

Can I “let myself go” to develop the message that the Lord, the Spirit, gives, however strange it may be, or must I “screen” the thoughts and words till those come that “meet my standards”? The question is important, and so is the answer. If I make the commitment to listen and write why should I care about the content? The trick is to be in the mind of Christ and know that this is the “mind of all”, not just one of exalted thoughts and messages. The mind of Christ has low thoughts and high thoughts, big thoughts and wee thoughts. It matters not which I “tune into” on a day. It matters most that I have brought myself to listen, however imperfectly.

My judging mind protests, and the contest is on. The word “screen” has meaning, and was part of a good thought, but, more importantly, it caused me to see that my rejection of it as unworthy for the day was, itself, an unworthy way to carry out this task-opportunity.

Let not the screens blind you to the vista beyond.

Hallelujah!

For the Record
For the record I must tell how this time of commitment commenced. The Lord, the Spirit (God Himself, perhaps) has a “game” that He plays with me. Even though I know that the Lord watches over me and that there really are no dangers in these “everlasting arms” I sometimes find myself afraid of or for something. Usually it has to do with the safety of one of the boys or of Lenore, but this time, on May 10, 1979, it, the fear, focused in a lost manuscript. Neither at home nor at the office could I find the folder with the two chapters I (presumably… who can be sure now?) had written for the little book on Death for Scott Foresman. Finally, after searching through everything at home I determined that it was at the office. So on that Thursday I rushed to the office, and found it not. Despite other responsibilities I was distraught and knew I couldn’t do anything else, with any quality until I found that folder. So I started driving home.

On the way, along new 51, I realized this was the Spirit and His game, so I asked, “What do you want me to do?” The fear gets my attention, and I bargain; usually my “part” is reading and studying some particular scriptures. But no Scriptures came to my mind. The “price” was something else. Then it “hit”. I was to return to this time of meditation – writing each day for approximately an hour… listening to the Spirit and writing down what I hear… which I did back in 1964-65. I balked at the commitment of time in my busy life, but it soon was clear that this is what I must do. So I said, “Lord, I’ll do it each day for a month if you’ll ‘find the manuscript’”

I knew almost immediately that I would find it… even that it would be in an open, obvious place. Sure enough, as I sat down at the kitchen table, shortly after coming into the house, I saw a folder, that I truly hadn’t seen before, on the bench, with a corner of the yellow paper manuscript sticking out. The Lord is a rascal! But he did His part, and I’m now doing mine.

Amen.
7:10 AM

(This is the sixth missive penned by Bob Russell after he “cut his deal” with God that he would dedicate the first hour of his day to a “writing meditation” for the next 30 days.
This missive was penned and written only by Bob Russell)