The main character of a book series called “The Sword of Truth”.
He was just a simple woods guide until something extraordinary happened to him.
He was given a title and a sword that fueled his own anger into a monster that could slaughter the enemy. But only if he accepted the title. Only if he chose to give into the magic that ignited every time he grasped the hilt of his sword, ripping it from it’s sheath into a blur of metal and blood.
He gets thrown into a world that’s complicated, where “magic” is a way of life… and it’s nothing he has ever known.
Yes, he accepted the title. Yes, he gave into the sword’s will. But he wished he never had.
When he looks back at his mediocre, but happy life, he sees simplicity and familiarity, he’s without fear or discomfort. He’s in his own territory.
Only now he’s in a different land, fighting things he never knew existed and coming across this terrible “magic” that’s put him where he is now. In a place of suffering, pain, and heartbreak.
He decides that once his mission is over he will put his sword forever back in it’s sheath and hand it back to the person it came from. He decides he just wants to be a woods guide again. No magic. No mission. Only a simply ignorant life of mediocrity.
Sounds like a terrible book, eh?
Except somehow we’ve followed the same path.
In my own personal interpretation I see this “magic” as my creativity. I use this word in a general sense, of course. What I mean is my ability to think outside the box, to see from multiple perspectives, and to express my knowledge and understanding in artistic ways that not everyone is able to do.
This sword I’m holding is the bible, the gospel that was given to me by a great and powerful person: God himself.
I accepted the title as one of his disciples, was excited about it until it changed everything I was once comfortable with.
With this powerful gift I can conquer anything in my path, yet my own heart is wishing I could go back to being mediocre. I find myself trying to hold this creativity back from changing me into what it will, to shove it’s fuel to the gospel I know and formed into my own personal greatness back into it’s sheath and thrust it back into the hands of God.
Why would I give up such a thing?
Because it’s easy.
I told my brother today, “Sometimes I wish I weren’t a creative thinker… so I could be happy with sitting in an office my whole life with great benefits and loads of cash in my bank…”
I can’t help but think of what type of life I could lead if I’d never been given the type of mind that I have. If I weren’t an “artist” that will struggle to reach that sense of contentment that can be found right away if I’d been willing to lay my hopes and dreams down for a security blanket and a warm glass of milk.
Truth is… I can never be that person. Though I may wish I could deny this fate that has been dealt to me and go back to being a woods guide, I know I can never go back and I certainly never wish to live the life of an average human being.
I want more. But with that price comes the price of the sword and it’s magic. It will bring pain and suffering, fear and discord, and most of all anger and heartbreak.
Everything I know has changed. Yet in the end, like Richard, I will decide that I’d rather have the pain of wielding this extraordinary gift (as a Christian and as an artist) than to live a simply ignorant life of mediocrity.
Embrace the magic that fuels the weapon you hold… It separates you from the rest. Don’t despise it because it’ll make life harder. Don’t wish you could be a simpleton just so you can have it easy.
Don’t catch yourself saying: “I just want to be a woods guide.”