Phil Vischer (the creator of "Veggie Tales") shared this quote during a talk he gave at a conference I attended last week. Phil shared his story. Actually, he read his story word for word from a manuscript that laid on a podium in front of him. When he started I felt the dread of a dry talk coming on. Normally it drives me nuts when a speaker sounds like he is simply reading. The ironic part is that when I talk I teach from a manuscript, but I think I do a pretty good job of disguising the fact that I'm reading or reciting from memory. Phil didn't. But he was only a few sentences into his recitation when I realized this was going to be anything but boring. I love when something powerful happens through a boring presentational style. It smells of the Holy Spirit.
Phil wanted to be the next Walt Disney. Veggie Tales was soaring. His efforts were making a huge impact on kids and their families (not to mention legions of college students who became a cult following of the Bible-teaching vegetables). But it all began to unravel. Sales flatlined. Phil prayed for God to save Veggie Tales by causing the box office profits from 'Jonah' to soar above predictions. But God didn't. Then Phil and his company were hit with a lawsuit for breech of a verbal contract. Phil prayed for God to save Veggie Tales by letting the truth be known. But God didn't. It was over. Everything was gone. Phil had to declare bankruptcy, sell the rights to Veggie Tales, and watch as his dream died in an afternoon.
But out of the depression and rubble of this failure, God spoke to Phil Vischer. He spoke through a sermon tape his mother gave him on the story of Elijah and the Shunnamite woman. He spoke through a prayful woman on his staff. He spoke in the stillness of Phil's own heart. And this broken man heard. He realized he loved the dream more than God. He was reaching for the dream more than God. He was pursuing impact more than God.
When the dream is taken away, will we still be content? Does he who has God alone really have as much as he who has God and many things?
I have lots of dreams. I am in the most exciting time of my professional life as a minister. The future seems limitless. But I had to ask myself as I sat in that auditorium listening to this broken yet victorious man: Do I love God more than the impact I can make for him?
I feel the danger of letting what I do crowd out the intimacy of who I love. It is hard for me right now to have a conversation with God that doesn't revolve around ministry and next steps. I want to be still but I can't stop striving. The thought of waking up down the road and discovering that I've lost Him in the middle of all this activity is terrifying to me. How do I guard against that?
I know what it is to walk closely with God...to enjoy deep intimacy with him...to practice the simplicity of his presence. When I lived in Charleston, I enjoyed many moments of stillness with him. But it was easy there. My life was simple there. There weren't a lot of things crowding in on my attention span. Life is so different here in Chicago. I love all those differences (many are the reasons I moved here). But it is hard to find stillness here. I don't mean on the outside... opportunities are as available here as anywhere. It is hard to find stillness on the inside.
God, I want to know that you alone are enough. Can I learn that lesson without needing the many things to be taken from me? I don't know. I just ask you to fight for us. I want to wake up each morning knowing without a doubt that I love you above all else.
