Jesse Koepke

Something the other day reminded me of… oh yeah! It was a roommate of mine talking about writing a screenplay about Adam and Eve, and an image he had of them running down the hill as the flaming sword rushed overhead to block the entrance to Eden. And that reminded me of that cool story idea I had, about a boy who is pulled into three different realms at the beginning of creation…

… called Seskone.

Yep, gotta keep writing. I might start over and try and start fresh, now that I have a bit of an idea of where I’m going. I really just want to get to the sky, and to the Child-Weaver, and to the screaming beetles. In time, I suppose. The hardest part is not knowing what underwater looks like. Can’t be big and wide and empty; that’s what it is now.

What was the ocean like right after it was created?

It’s questions like these that start a story. “Help me, Daddy. Help me proclaim your might to another generation!”

I think I may have found my life verse.

I was reading my daily psalm yesterday and came to Ps. 71:18.

So even to old age and gray hairs / O God, do not forsake me / until I proclaim your might to another generation / your power to all those to come.

Wow. My heart so longs for that. To be a scribe in the court of Heaven! To be one who proclaims the name of the Lord, His might, His power, His love, His goodness to the next generation and to all those who come! You can go do big exploits, you can go set nations free, you can bring the children up out of Egypt, but me? I want to tell the stories about it. I want to tell the stories of the Lord’s goodness in the land of the living.

I want to tell the stories of the Lord’s goodness in the land of the living.

“So even to old age and gray hairs, O God, do not forsake me! Not until I have told the next generation of your might! Not until I have proclaimed your power to all those to come!”

Remember how I used to write on my blogs fairly regularly? Man, those were the days….

I’m still writing; a bit, at least. The problem that stopped me short was, while writing Seskone, Chris finally got under water, and I realized I didn’t know what under water looked like. Whoops! I’m all for imagining stuff, but it’d be cool to have at least a bit of reality. The good news is it shouldn’t be too hard to find out what under water looks like, so I just need to research it. Things are getting busy at work (onething conference in three weeks!), and I haven’t had (or really taken) the time to research it.

One bit of writing I’ve done recently was at the Salt Lake City Airport, on my way back from Thanksgiving in Portland. I think it was a mixture of reading The Once and Future King (crazy book) and seeing the mountains of Salt Lake standing like blocks across from the airport. I started writing, and came up with about a page or so of two brothers running into the mountains. Obviously there needed to be a threat, so three large beasts (are they human or animal?) showed up, and they dove into the ravines and headed up the mountains. Not sure where it’ll go, but it’s fun to write. I’m toying with the idea of messengers… at first it was angels for God, but that doesn’t leave any room for doubt and struggle… so I think it might be something with messengers. And that’s all I have.

So life keeps moving. Keep pressing on, being faithful in what I can. I also have a box full of writing books from Grandma Koepke, so I should bust out some of those. And keep writing screenplays. Boy oh boy.

“Help me be faithful, Daddy! Give me your inspiration! Your creation and the book you’re writing about the earth and about me is incredible, so could you help me with my writing? Thanks for giving me talent with words – it sure is fun :) Thanks for being such an awesome God.”

Until next time (which hopefully won’t be two more months), keep that sword to the grindstone.

Have I ever mentioned that I love Fall? It’s true. I think it’s the crisp air. Nothing like a chill in the air (whether Fall or Spring) to make me want soup, cider, hot chocolate, a good book, and make me dream of writing.

Speaking of which, how’s that going? The last couple of weeks have been pretty busy (10th anniversary of IHOP, my sister visiting, my cousin’s wedding), so I haven’t done much. But I’ll get back into it. Seskone is continuing; still discovering what the story actually is. I have moments I want to get to, but they aren’t until Parts Two and Three…. The other project is/needs to be The Prodigal Miner. I think I have a good idea of how to go forward with it, so I need to sit down and actually start writing.

So. The sword is to the grindstone.

Today was the day. He could feel it. It was like the first rain of spring, or the first leaf that falls in the autumn; except this, this was beyond either of those.

One step. That’s all it was going to take. One step and he’d be through the door, and then it would begin. Could he handle it? Could he take it? What if it was too big?

Forget that. He was made for this. God had told him the story. They had come here, together, he and God, and God had fashioned for him a shelter, glorious in its ornaments and breathtaking in its simplicity. And now he was about to step through the doorway, the threshold designed solely, only, for this specific moment; he could hardly contain himself.

He peeked through. He wasn’t supposed to, but he did anyway, unable to keep from doing it. He saw her, and his heart skipped a beat. His breath caught in his lungs and he jerked back, throwing himself through the air with an exploding heart of joy and dripping with golden delight.

She had smiled, lighting her face with a thousand stars. Her eyes, simple and pure, beamed with the flame of Heaven’s fires, and he nearly melted at its heat. Him? She would accept him? Mystery upon mysteries, he dared to believe it so.

He checked his pocket again to make sure it was still there. It was, and he clasped that sacred parchment tight in his hand. His covenant, granted to him afresh by God that morning, showing plainly his name, written in bold, fiery strokes, and next to his, written smoothly and with elegance, was her name. It astounded him even now, looking at it for the hundredth time that morning, that she would choose him. She had chosen him, and it dropped him to his knees at the very thought.

There! At last the trumpet of Heaven sounded and he gathered himself for the step, the step that would mark the course of today, that would do so much, with the look of such ease, bringing glory upon glory to God and the work of His hands. Who would dare think that he would stand here, today of days, with the honor and privilege of walking hand in hand with his beloved!

But, dream of dreams, it was so.

And with a final deep breath, the Sun stepped from his tent fashioned by the hands of God and strode forth to his bride, Day, and began his journey through the sky.

(Ps. 19:4-5)