Within an inch of victory, a very popular newspaper (a giant) makes me bite the dust, refusing the interview that it dangled in front of me.
A battle, please...!
With my little hands, I begin to throw gravel at some Goliaths. They have a good laugh (that’s a start - at least they’ve noticed me…).
And, through the intermediary of a journalist from a famous Swiss gossip magazine, one big Goliath taunts me, looking down from his full height:
‘What?! You think you can rival the greats of the cartoon world?!’
And I reply:
‘Er, yeah, why not?’
I brandish my arguments, as with a sword (that way, even if I don’t touch him, I’ll give him a cold), but Goliath has turned his back on me, as if it was nothing...
I deliver a few kicks by telephone in the shins of another giant who has deigned to turn his head in my direction. He looks with some suspicion at my convictions and I see that he is reluctant to show any interest in me (they all seem to be aware of the fact that I am an incorrigible fan of Jesus and that bothers them)...
I await their replies to my provocations (or requests for interviews, if you prefer) and, before I have recovered my breath, I send, like stones from a sling-shot, a whole stack of missives to other leading magazines…
Is Goliath going to end up under a pile of stones? (I am quite a persistent kind of guy...)
‘Hey! Giant! I want a fight!’
Nothing is worse, for someone who wants to pick a fight, to have his opponent refuse to fight back.
While I am desperately trying to fight to gain territory on a battlefield in France, at Angouleme (the biggest comic book festival in Europe), I come across a Christian journalist, a seasoned pro of Swiss national radio, who is in the area just ‘by chance’ (ha! ha! ha! that phrase!!!) at the same time as me. He arranges for me to go live on air... Yesss!
Declaration of war
Thanks to another infiltrator ally, all those in charge of radio broadcasting are contacted (or, to put it another way, they received my declaration of war). A famous presenter then informs me of his intention to show in the near future the interview that he made with me on spiritual matters, but the TV news which promised to do a report on me (seeing as I had won the first prize for Christian comic books) tells me that it has changed its mind. This about-turn is like a slap in the face for me, but I console myself because a radio station which young people in France listen to a lot has just fixed a date for me in Bordeaux.
The mêlée
I try to get into the media; not just with the aim of publicity for my comic books, but, more than anything, to share a powerful message of hope with the listeners who sorely need it. I want to reach as many people as possible.
My efforts have the appearance of fierce combat...
WHAM! Aaargh! the meeting in Bordeaux has been cancelled!! I feel quite alone in these unfamiliar streets and have doubts about my own worth. This discouragement lacerates my back, I have difficulty breathing; by text message I call my little prayer group for back-up...
I don’t know how David managed with his Goliaths, but in my case, they throw some hefty punches at my face. Within an inch of victory, a very popular newspaper (a giant) makes me bite the dust, refusing the interview that it dangled in front of me. Determined not to call it quits, I turn round and narrowly avoid a stake of fatalism which would have nailed me to the spot. I pick myself up and with one leap launch an attack on its rival brother, with the aid of my left arm, using a well-aimed blow of a phone call, while throwing a right at a big, popular, French channel via a key contact I bumped into behind the scenes.
While I’m at it, I challenge to a duel a titan of one of the largest comic book distribution companies in the French-speaking network (in other words, I arranged a meeting with its director) with the aim, which might appear completely reckless, of leading him to Christ.
A warning shot (more precisely the following advertisement) smashes me to smithereens. The man in charge of a TV game show, who promised me an arena of live debates, sends a blow by telephone right into my guts, standing me up using an atom-bomb! A bit of a masochist, I throw the bomb back…
I am a bit stunned, but I pray, as if sounding a hunting horn, to invoke the help of the Lord of Hosts.
I end up by going on one of those national French channels to share my testimony. If the large amount of mail received is to be believed, lots of people were touched, especially elderly people (maybe the only ones who had a pen to hand?)...
Right, I am going back to drawing, I am worn out...
To all those standing up for their fellow human beings and to those who have no hope left, who remain upright in the face of the hordes of discouragement descending on our world: you will probably never have any medals here on earth … but isn’t the loveliest reward to have been able to bring happiness to the ones you love...?
Hang on in there, believe in your worth, because the Lord of Hosts sees you and He will not forget you…
Las opiniones vertidas por nuestros colaboradores se realizan a nivel personal, pudiendo coincidir o no con la postura de la dirección de Protestante Digital.
Si quieres comentar o