Re: my post from last week --

I'm very glad to say that my balls are still very much intact.

INT. LARGE, VACUOUS BLACK SPACE

Similar to where Mork would communicate with his home planet of Ork.

MYRON (29), Korean, stands there by himself, frustrated.

MYRON

Thanks a lot! You've successfully

managed to take away all the control

I had in my life! Boom -- GONE!

Then Myron hears it -- a LOUD, THUNDEROUS VOICE. It seems to come from nowhere, yet everywhere. It's the voice of GOD.

GOD

You never had control.

Myron thinks about it really hard...

MYRON

Oh yeah...

Myron thinks about it really hard...

GOD

Do what I tell you to and you'll be fine.

MYRON

Okay. My bad, God.

So my writing partner and I just finished our third official script that we'll be sending up to our managers before the night is over.

Our balls are hanging WAY out there on this one like never before.

Yikes...

Dear Hollywood,

You and I have a love/hate relationship. But I don't need to tell you that...

I grew up mesmerized by the worlds you opened up to me when I was younger. I saw a muscle man dressed in black leather that said that words "I'll be back" and I wanted to be just like him. I watched a space opera that took place "A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away" and wanted to carry my own lightsaber. I saw a living, breathing dinosaur for the first time, and it was exactly what it looked like in my imagination.

And yes, I felt the need, the need for speed.

You made movies that made me forget about my life and kicked my imagination into overdrive. And after a long, winding journey that saw its share of alternate routes and dead ends, I realized the only thing I see myself doing for a living was writing the kinds of stories that grabbed me by the throat when I was younger.

I worked hard for you because I respected you. I wanted to show you that I could handle myself. And finally, after several years, I started to see the fruits of my labor. You let me get representation. Hell, you even let a script I wrote (with my writing partner) get picked up by an Academy Award winning producer.

I thought you and I were on the fast track to success.

But then what happened?

I kept giving but I stopped getting things from you in return. It seems we haven't taken any steps in the write (Like my play on words?) direction in quite a while. Sometimes I can't help but think we're just spinning our wheels.

I've gone through some hard times lately, I won't lie. I even thought about breaking up with you and pursuing a relationship with that other girl (who's not nearly as interesting but is much more faithful) named Corporate America.

But every single time I've considered it, I came back with an even stronger resolve to make our relationship work.

In the words of the great Jerry Maguire -- "I'm not letting you get rid of me, how 'bout that?"

I'm learning from this valley I'm in. To be a better writer. To set a higher standard for myself.

Hopefully at the end of all this, you'll see that I'm worth your time.

You think you got me? You ain't seen nothing yet...

Love (and sometimes hate),

Myron

Vincent & Sierra

I met six year old Vincent and seven year old Sierra during a lunch that Crossway's local mission team put on at a motel in Costa Mesa. They're the oldest of four kids in a family that's been living there...

I played Jenga with Vincent. I think he was more interested in setting the blocks up then he was playing the actual game. A little later, we played Operation. Vincent never said much, but he sure smiled a lot.

When lunch started, Sierra joined us. She too had an infectious smile. She told me about her love for ice cream and for Candyland. Sierra told me a little bit about her family, like how her younger sister was a troublemaker. I asked her what school she went to and she said she didn't. I don't believe Vincent goes either.

We had to wrap things up right after the lunch. I said goodbye to them before they went back to their motel room. Our conversations were brief, but I remember their faces as clearly as if I was still there.

The time I spent doing local missions work with our team was brief. Two weekends to be exact. I'm not sure what kind of good I did or how God was able to use me at all, but I do know the impact that it's had on me.

You don't need to go far to find people in need of help or have been forgotten by the so-called nameless/faceless "system." They're all around us, and they all have lives filled with hurt, hopes, worries, joys, and fears much like our own.

I'm not the only one that's have gone through a thing or two.

As I continue to work towards fully realizing the gifts/talents I have, I pray that I'll never forget the people living just outside my door, or Jesus' commandment that I must love my neighbor as myself...

Control

Control is an illusion, you infantile ego-maniac. Nobody knows what's gonna happen next: not on a freeway, not in an airplane, not inside our own bodies and certainly not on a racetrack with 40 other infantile egomaniacs.

-Dr. Claire Lewicki (Nicole Kidman) to Cole Trickle (Tom Cruise) from the movie "Days of Thunder"

So this might not be the greatest bit of dialog ever written, but it says a whole lot about life...

Less than a week ago, I heard that my senior year bible study teacher from youth group had fallen ill and was on his death bed. Today, I found out he went to be with the Lord.

How could this be? I had just seen him at church a little more than a month ago. He responded to me a little while before that letting me know he couldn't make it out to the TOM Film Festival because he was still in Korea. Just a few months before that, we talked on the phone about getting all of our class guys together for dinner.

Twelve years ago, I had my closest run-in with death happened when my mom passed away from cancer. And though I haven't had death come any closer than that, within the past year, a string of near fatal experiences affecting people I know has rattled me to the bone.

Life is truly fragile. Control is definitely an illusion. At least for us it is.

I've been working so hard this past year trying to sell a screenplay and improve as a writer. I have taken ownership of this burden perhaps a little too much, letting this desire be the driving force in my life for quite a while.

And more recently, in light of God showing me some major flaws that needed fixing, I've been working equally as hard trying to build my character.

But with all the work I'm doing to make tomorrow better than today, my life can end at any moment...

I don't mean to sound morbid, but it really does put things in perspective.

Steven Curtis Chapman wrote a song called "The Next 5 Minutes" with the words "I'm living the NEXT 5 minutes, like these are my LAST 5 minutes, 'cause I know the next 5 minutes maybe ALL I HAVE."

If I lived my life that way, what would truly matter?

I can't exactly say, but I think I might have an idea -- It would be about who I love and who loves me, and showing that love in action as much as possible...

Paul, you were an amazing bible study teacher and a great older brother. Thank you so much for all the lessons, the meals, for opening up your house so we could have those senior-guy sleepovers, for keeping in touch with us years after your teaching responsibilities had ended, and for so much more. You showed me a small glimpse into the love of Christ through your constant generosity and caring. You will be missed.

I'm reminded again at how precious the grace of God is, that we might be forgiven and have the opportunity to be with Him forever.

Goodbye, Paul...

The hardest part of integrity is that it's all about how honest you are when no one is looking. That means you'll never get credit for it. It also means no one would ever know if you're being dishonest.

But Someone is always looking. And they WILL give you credit for it. Just maybe not in the timeframe you'd want...