Life was pretty good before Wilson dribbled into my life and made it even better. That first day I met him when he was turned in to lost and found at my day job seemed uneventful. Little did I know my life would be forever changed. I was in the middle of a book project that ended up stalling when some of my characters went MIA. My creative energy hybernated and I couldn't get back on track. Meanwhile, I was bringing Wilson with me during my travels as a stand-in for family photos in order to maintain my family's anonymity. This process seemed somewhat normal for me because I've been using inanimate objects like my Wilson tennis racquet and my soccer ball as props for scenic shots for over eight years. I even referred to these first props as relatives of the world-famous Wilson from CASTAWAY.
People I meet refer to me as Wilson's friend. Others ask, "How's Wilson doing?" Some want to know where he is when he's not with me. His popularity and status as a celebrity help put people at ease when I meet strangers. Most of all, Wilson has helped me overcome my own shortcomings. Just like Tom Hanks needed a friend to cope with his loneliness, I needed a sidekick to encourage me when I found myself drifting without any wind in my sails. I wasn't the one who came up with the idea to write a book about Wilson's adventures. It was one of the strangers I met while traveling. The suggestion was like a bolt of lightning that surged through every cell of my body. I was a blind man who could see. I found my way. At first, I thought, why not work on Wilson's book while reworking the chapters of my current project, now long overdue? This idea of writing two books at the same time seemed like a good way to get over my writer's block but something happened that caused me to put my primary project on the backburner. It was from Wilson. His chapters started flowing like the prophet Jeremiah said about Jesus...
But if I say, "I will not mention his word or speak any more in his name," his word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot. Jeremiah 20:9
Is it possible that Wilson is the spirit of God shut up in my bones? Was Wilson sent to me by angels to help me fulfill my mission on this planet? All I can say here is that my transformation is like Saul turning into Paul. The similarities are striking. When I was Saul I went so far as to tell my dad he was wasting his time writing books because there was no way to make money. When I became Paul, suddenly everything changed. Wilson won't allow me to just sit there like I'm a castaway on some remote island. Neither will the spirit now burning within me. I'm finding my way, thanks to my buddy, Wilson. As each day passes, I believe more and more that Wilson was sent by invisible forces outside my own realm of understanding, the same forces who inspire writers to write, prophets to speak and musicians to sing. All credit for my work goes to Jesus. Have a great day.
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