August 2013… the Zookeeper

I usually try and warn Darren in advance. “I have a new idea,” I say, smiling.

“Really?” he says, waiting.

“And I think it might be good,” I say, still smiling. “It might even work!”

Then he looks at me, interested, so I add in a qualifying comment, “But then again, it might not work.” And we both laugh, remembering all the other ideas.

My latest big idea happened in April. I was contacted by someone in Moree and she asked me if I could run drama workshops and evening performances, in the north-west, with an aim to present the gospel to non-church families. I said yes! Then she wanted to know if I could bring a team with me, and whether we could incorporate music and story into the drama performances, involving up to 80 children in each place?

I said yes again. I would love to. So I sat at our laptop for a fortnight, and I hardly moved. I watched the ideas and the story seep out beneath my fingertips. I knew that the story began in a wide open valley, with rich pasture and wild flowers and mountain peaks. And I could see the animals in the valley – the slithering lizards and swaying elephants and swinging monkeys and leggy giraffes and brown bears and kangaroos and even the prickly old tree porcupine. The whole of the valley was an open-plain zoo. But the best thing about the zoo was the Zookeeper. He loved the animals. He’d chosen each of them, and every day he would walk with them and talk with them and feed them with his own hand, reminding them they could play wherever they wanted in the valley. But the one place they couldn’t play was on the other side of the sparkling river, in the dark forest.

By the end of the fortnight, I had the complete idea and the script and the team. We were all excited. Mel started thinking about masks and costumes and craft ideas. Sam began working on the scripts for teenagers. Bruce started working on the lyrics and song ideas. I practiced the script with our sons, and anyone else who walked through our front door. They all liked it. Soon, I wondered whether the idea would work as a picture book, or an enhanced CD, or a package for kids clubs, and schools, and family services. There were so many possibilities. What about puppets and screen shots and flyers and a Disney movie?

On Sunday, we’re presenting The Zookeeper for the first time at Winmalee Presbyterian Church, 9am on the 1st September. I’m a bit nervous. What if it doesn’t work? What if the kids don’t respond well? What if we forget our lines? What if I’m kidding myself? So last night, I sat in church and I worried a bit. I prayed. I tried to remember whose message it was. And then this morning I went for a run and I listened to a song by Martina McBride. “God is great, but sometimes life ain’t good, and when I pray it doesn’t always turn out like I think it should. But I do it anyway … yeah, I do it anyway…”

And I remembered that it’s God who defines whether something ‘works’, or not, and whether an idea is good or not. Everything comes from him, and his definitions aren’t mine. His plans aren’t mine. He sees further ahead than I do. It’s true that we may not produce the picture book, or the enhanced CD. We may not even make it as far as Moree. But that’s okay, because today, what matters is that we’re faithful to him, with the small thing in front of us. So we will learn these lines for Sunday, and we will enjoy the music and the puppets. And we’ll pray that someone, somewhere, hears the message and knows deeply what it means to be loved by the Zookeeper.