Today’s blog is in honor of Lewis & Tolkien’s Friendiversary. So go grab yourself a scone and a cup of tea, and your favorite book. And remind yourself of the beautiful things that can be created when we surround ourselves with people who help us dream.

A few weeks ago, I found an amazon gift card I received -and promptly lost- as a Christmas present. This led to an impulsive splurge on Amazon with the first book I could find. Two days later (shout out to amazon prime), I found “a Hobbit, a Wardrobe, and a Great War” sitting on my doorstep. True to it’s title, the book considers how the first World War influenced the writings of Tolkien and Lewis, who spent time in the trenches as foot soldiers. I’ve never been detail oriented enough to sit through a history lesson well, but throw in a story and you’ll have me hanging off the edge of my seat. And that’s exactly what Loconte does, weaving in both Tolkien’s and Lewis’s personal experiences while also casting a broad scope of the War and it’s effects on England.

Almost inevitably I came across a section on the friendship between Lewis, Tolkien and the rest of the Inklings and I found myself gripping the page tightly and smiling like a fool. Most of us have probably heard of the famous group that met together at Oxford. However, it was upon reading this portion of the book that I began to understand the magnitude of their devotion to one another. For sixteen years, the group met every Tuesday morning and Thursday night to share their stories with one another. Even -perhaps especially- in the midst of the Second World War, they continued to meet. Even once their time together had ended, Lewis and Tolkien continued meeting and reading each other’s writings aloud to the other. Tolkien, said of Lewis in a letter,

“C.S. Lewis is a very old friend and colleague of mine, and indeed I owe to his encouragement the fact that in spite of every obstacle [including the 1939 war] I persevered and eventually finished The Lord of the Rings. He heard all of it, bit by bit, read aloud.”

Think about the countless hours Lewis and Tolkien must have spent reading through Lord of the Rings together.  Lewis, probably being the first to ever hear parts of the story, had a critical role in it’s completion. In a time when fantasy and heroes had been exchanged for skepticism and machinery, Lewis saw the NEED for Tolkien’s story to be told. He saw a need for the public of England, blinded with the Enlightenment, to experience and believe in myth, in hero, and in adventure once again. He saw the need for the simple country folk to understand what could become of a world that tears down the Shire to build factories upon it. And He saw the need for a generation of men to mourn those lost in the war.

“So much of your whole life,” said Lewis in a letter to Tolkien,” so much of our joint life, so much of the war, so much that seemed to be slipping away quite spurlos [without a trace] into the past, is now, in a sort made permanent.” While Tolkien had his head stuck in piles of paper and ink, Lewis was able to look upwards- toward the future- and see what would become of all of it. And when it came time for Lewis to publish his own tales, The Chronicles of Narnia, it was Tolkien who wrote to his publisher, imploring him to consider the books.

As I sit here, in a coffee shop some eighty years later, I can’t help but draw parallels to my own hardships as a writer. I’ve had a story of my own stuck in my head for four years now, though I haven’t had the courage to start writing it until recently. As I set about putting it in print, I realized I had some major plot holes in the story. I tried to come up with a creative solution, but I just could not get past them. I kept telling myself, “No, that’s stupid, that won’t work” over and over again. (Let me tell you right now that there’s nothing that kills creativity more than a good dose of self doubt.) But one day, as I found myself without internet access and sitting on my best friend’s couch, I began talking through my story with her. For the better part of an hour, she sat there and just listened. And then, something miraculous happened: she told me I wasn’t stupid and told me to keep talking. She told me my idea wasn’t as horrible as I thought, that it might actually be beautiful. I felt like a paralytic who had just been healed- ever stagnant but now could get up and walk -maybe even run- wherever I chose. One week later, I had written through one plot hole, finding hope and confidence that I could overcome the others that I would face. So, when reading of the consistent support that Lewis and Tolkien had for one another, I wondered if maybe this is the secret to creativity. And I’d like to submit to you that it just might be. That in order for us to thrive as artists, we need a friend to come along side us and say “Your idea isn’t ridiculous, it’s beautiful. You have to do this.” When we are stuck in the moment and all we can see is that obstacle we don’t think we can get past- when all we can hear are the no’s and cannot’s, we need someone to walk up and speak loudly, “Yes, you can. And if you can’t, then we’ll do it together. Because what you have to say is beautiful and what you have to say is needed. This broken world needs the light that you’re bringing into being.” There’s a reason almost every book or CD on the shelf has an acknowledgements section. It doesn’t matter whose name is on the cover, we all know it wasn’t a singular endeavor. We all have someone to thank for helping us finish the work that was started.

Even our Maker did not do His work alone. In the beginning, when God created the heavens, He chose to do it in community with himself. Our trinitarian Lord- the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit- collaborated for the making of his masterpiece. “Come, let us make man in our image.” Minds in one accord with one another planned and plotted together, speaking affirmation after each creation, “Yes, indeed, it is good.” The Almighty created in community, and that should serve a strong lesson for those of us, who are only makers mirroring Him in whose image we were formed. We can never be too good at our craft to walk this journey alone. Community is an essential part of our Creator, and it’s an essential part of us who are made in His image.

So, friend, whatever your obstacle or “plot hole” is at the moment, find someone who’s willing to spend an hour just listening to you. Find someone who sees the beauty is what you’re doing, and who can speak that over you when you’ve lost your sight. Find someone who will let you return the favor. Creativity isn’t meant to be done in solitude; it’s meant to be borrowed and shared and built upon.

So go out and find your Inklings, for we were never meant to create alone.