It’s Like Martial Arts

    When I taught martial arts, you had to perfect the basics before you could move on to the higher levels. My students always thought it was fun when they started learning flying kicks and techniques like that. But when it comes down to a street fight, to protecting yourself, you always go back to the basics. Bruce Lee even said that. You can learn advanced techniques and earn degrees of black belts in different styles, but when you need it, the only thing that counts is how well you do the basics.
    Our book is like that, too. It's basic, easy reading. It's not filled with big words and theories. It's all things you can read and use immediately, today. "The Right to God" really is about your right to God, one of the most basic concepts there is. But when it comes right down to it, that's what's most important … the basics.
    ---Ron Dugan

What We Loved About the Winners

If you wonder why we chose the winning essays in our first contest, here's a short rundown. We'll also drop a few hints at what doesn't hit us quite right. And while we're at it, we'll let you know where we're willing to expand our borders.

The winners were the ones we kept thinking about when we put the essays down and walked away. A nugget, a truth, an image lingered in our minds as we went to work or cooked supper. For Darlene Pistocchi's essay, our First Place, it was that single line that kept echoing in our minds: "What had I done to my canvas?" That one line sums up her entire essay and struck a chord. How many times have we felt like we really messed up the canvas this time? I loved the idea that it was a masterpiece once and could be again.

Virgil Youngblood's Second Place essay was a different story. His created an image of a set-jawed, hard-lipped old time Christian, who then gave it all over to God, and watched a slow, miraculous change in his life. One after another, his realities shifted as he became a different person.

Stephanie Beck's Third Place essay, Peanut Butter Sandwiches, took another track entirely. Stephanie had that profound spiritual experience we were hoping to find in the essays. A moment swept over her and changed her life in a day. But something subtle lingered with us. When someone has an intense spiritual experience, people sometimes try to rationalize why it happened to "you, and not me." It ranges from, "It must have been because…" to disbelief to anger. On the radio recently, I heard a speaker passionately urging listeners to talk about their spiritual experiences, bordering on accusing people of being selfish by keeping it to themselves. The talk show host quickly called him on it, pointing to her own experience of people thinking she was crazy. "Besides," she said simply in a New York accent. "Not every experience is meant to be shared. Some are for us alone."

Thomas Fuhrman raised just that question in his Fourth Place essay when he said, "I would like someone to believe me." Thomas did the most incredible thing. He prayed what, to us, is one of the hardest prayers. He said to God, if anything in his life stood between him and God, he wanted God to take it away. He didn't pick and choose. He said, "Anything." Sometimes when God answers a prayer, you alone have the strong sense of "God did this." It's personal, and no one else gets it like you do. As Thomas wrote, regardless of whether God actually "did this," Thomas's prayer and his reaction to a series of thefts brought him closer to God. We loved that. Instead of resenting God for something lost, he let it take him further down God's path.

Charity Vester's Fifth Place essay did something few entries did. It made us laugh. It had humor. Why not? Isn't the spiritual path about losing burdens? But it also had that one line that carried on when we walked away. "I was supposed to be in Peru." That line has already become a metaphor for something that clearly wasn't on our agenda, but appears to be on God's plan. I hadn't planned to write a book about God. I had planned to write a novel. "I was supposed to be in Peru," I think, and I smile, because while Charity was cleaning up after dogs instead of wandering Peru, she was quietly spreading the truth, that relationship with God makes us happy, no matter how much the circumstance conflicts with our original plan.

For all of the winners, a common thread was the way they applied to everyday spirituality. We had some well-written, passionate entries that addressed hot-button issues. But our focus is the everyday walk, the people we love, the daily prayers and trials. We're unlikely to publish polarizing issues, unless it's part of the Both Sides Now column. We like the personal story, the one that makes us feel something, the line that lingers after we put down the paper. We are open to essays that explore walking with God in so many ways. It doesn't have to be distinctly Christian, but if it feels anti-Christian, it's not right for us. A few people have written and asked if we're open on certain things, like blog entries or fiction. (Yes, to blog entries, and no, not doing fiction right now.) If you have a question, feel free to shoot us an email.

We want to bring people closer to God, and we're open on how that happens. This month's contest already has some interesting entries, some potential winners rising to the top. The deadline is August 15. If you have a story to tell, this is a great place for it. Check out the rules here: Echoes Essay Contest.