The Shack

AFTER WORDS

Well, there you have it-at least as it was told to me. I am sure there will be some who wonder whether everything really happened as Mack recalls it, or if the accident and morphine made him just a little bit loopy. As for Mack, he continues to live his normal productive life and remains adamant that every word of the story is true. All the changes in his life, he tells me, are enough evidence for him. The Great Sadness is gone and he experiences most days with a profound sense of joy.

So the question I am faced with as I pen these words is how to end a tale like this? Perhaps I can do that best by telling you a little about how it has affected me. As I stated in the foreword, Mack’s story changed me. I don’t think that there is one aspect of my life, especially my relationships, that hasn’t been touched deeply and altered in ways that truly matter. Do I think that it’s true? I want all of it to be true. Perhaps if some of it is not actually true in one sense, it is still true nonetheless-if you know what I mean. I guess you and Sarayu will have to figure that one out.

And Mack? Well he’s a human being that continues through a process of change, like the rest of us. Only he welcomes it while I tend to resist it. I have noticed that he loves larger than most, is quick to forgive, and even quicker to ask for forgiveness. The transformations in him have caused quite a ripple through his community of relationships-and not all of them easy. But I have to tell you that I’ve never been around another adult who lives life with such simplicity and joy. Somehow he has become a child again. Or maybe more accurately, he’s become the child he never was allowed to be; abiding in simple trust and wonder. He embraces even the darker shades of life as part of some incredibly rich and profound tapestry; crafted masterfully by invisible hands of love.

As I write this, Mack is testifying at the Ladykiller trial. He had hoped to visit with the accused, but has not yet been granted permission. But he’s determined to see him, even if it happens long after the verdict is rendered.

If you ever get a chance to hang out with Mack, you will soon learn that he’s hoping for a new revolution, one of love and kindness-a revolution that revolves around Jesus and what he did for us all and what he continues to do in anyone who has a hunger for reconciliation and a place to call home. This is not a revolution that will overthrow anything, or if it does, it will do so in ways we could never contrive in advance. Instead it will be the quiet daily powers of dying and serving and loving and laughing, of simple tenderness and unseen kindness, because if anything matters, then everything matters. And one day, when all is revealed, every one of us will bow our knee and confess in the power of Sarayu that Jesus is the Lord of all Creation, to the glory of Papa.

Oh, one last note. I’m convinced that Mack and Nan still go up there sometimes, to the shack, you know, just to be alone. It wouldn’t surprise me if he walks out to that old dock, takes off his shoes and socks, and, you know, puts his feet on the water just to see if… well, you know…

– Willie

Earth’s crammed with heaven,

And every common bush afire with God,

But only he who sees takes off his shoes;

The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.

– Elizabeth Barrett Browning

I brought a stone to three friends. It was a chunk of boulder that I had carved out of the caves of my experience. These three, Wayne Jacobsen, Brad Cummings and Bobby Downes, with great and careful kindness helped me chip away at that rock until we were able to see a wonder below its face.

Wayne was the first to see this story and went out of his way to encourage me to have it published. His enthusiasm brought in the others to refine the story and to prepare it to share with a wider audience, both in print and we hope in film. He and Brad bore the lion’s share of work in the three major rewrites that brought this story to its final form, adding their insights into the ways in which God works and keeping the story true to Mack’s pain and his healing. These two brought energy, creativity and skill to the writing, and the quality of work that you now hold in your hands is due in large measure to their gifts and sacrifice. Bobby brought his unique background in filmmaking to help us collaborate on the story to tighten its flow and heighten its drama. You can visit Wayne at www.lifestream.org, Brad at www.thegodjourney.com and Bobby at www.christiancinema.com. I am especially fond of each of you three! KMW!

Many have intersected this project and given time and heart to sand the surface or etch a design or voice an opinion, encouragement or objection, leaving a piece of their life inside this story and how it has unfolded. These include Marisa Ghiglieri and Dave Aldrich as Design Collaborators and Kate Lapin and especially Julie Williams who assisted with production. A number of friends took time from their schedules to prod and poke and help me edit, especially in the early re-writes. These include Australia Sue, brilliant Jim Hawley in Taiwan and especially my cousin, Dale Bruneski in Canada.

There is a host whose insight, perspective, companionship and encouragement have mattered. Thanks to Larry Gillis in Hawaii, my buddy Dan Polk in DC, MaryKay and Rick Larson, Micheal and Renee Harris, Julie and Tom Rushton, and the Gunderson household in Boring, OR (that’s a noun, not an adjective), along with the folk at DCS, my great friend Dave Sargent in Portland, the individuals and families of the NE Portland community, and the Closner/Foster/Weston/Dunbar kinfolk in Estacada.

I am full of gratitude for the Warren Clan (numbering around 100 now), who helped Kim rescue me from the dark side, and my parents and Canadian family, the Youngs, Sparrows, Bruneskis and others. I love you, Aunt Ruby; I know you’ve had a hard time of it lately. Also, I have no words to express my heart and love for Kim, my children and our two incredible daughters-in-law, Courtney and Michelle, who are both bearing our first grandkids (Yipee!).

Creative stimulation includes a number of old dead guys, like Jacques Ellul, George McDonald, Tozer, Lewis, Gibran, the Inklings and Soren Kierkegaard. But I am also grateful to writers and speakers like Ravi Zacherias, Malcolm Smith, Anne LaMott, Wayne Jacobsen, Marilynne Robinson, Donald Miller, and Maya Angelou to name a few. Musical inspiration is eclectic, a smattering of U2, Dylan, Moby, Paul Colman, Mark Knopfler, James Taylor, Bebo Norman, Matt Wertz (you are something special), Nichole Nordeman, Amos Lee, Kirk Franklin, David Wilcox, Sarah McLachlan, Jackson Browne, Indigo Girls, the Dixie Chicks, Larry Norman and a whole lot of Bruce Cockburn.

Thank you, Anna Rice, for loving this story and penetrating it with your musical gift. You gave (me) us an incredible gift.

Most of us have our own grief, broken dreams and damaged hearts, each of us with our unique losses, our own ‘shack’. I pray that you find the same grace there that I did, and that the abiding presence of Papa, Jesus and Sarayu will fill up your inside emptiness with joy unspeakable and full of glory.