Wheaton College Alumni Magazine Spring 2013 | Page 49

Todd Komarnicki ’87 is a
prolific writer, producer,
and director of film and
television as well as an
acclaimed novelist. He has
written plays for the
stage, screenplays, and
has sold television pilots to
many networks. Founder
and president of the
production/management

“Spring break
baseball trip,
1984. I wrote the
suicide note.
It ran like a
triangle down
into the corner
of the page.”

company Guy Walks Into a
Bar, Komarnicki and his
partner produced the
Christmas blockbuster, Elf.
Todd lives in New York
City with his wife, Jane,
their daughter, Remy, and
their son, Dashiell.

crewcut, blocking me from death’s door.
Literally. But even that didn’t cure my
depression, because I was still spiritually
dead, having rejected God.
Countless nights during my
sophomore year, I’d take to the roof of
Traber dorm and stand on the ledge.
The boy on the ledge. I was hoping the
wind would have the courage I lacked.
A year later, when I finally dared to take
the tiniest steps toward Christ, I knew I
was never alone on that roof. Jesus had
my back.
I know what it feels like to be
spectacularly saved. And it has made
every moment of my life since electric
with love and hope and possibility.
I still cannot believe I’m alive. That I
got to become a writer. That God gave
me the gift of Dr. Jill Baumgaertner,
dean of humanities and theological
studies, who spotted a tiny talent and
dared me to plant and water it. That my
father and I got to become best friends.
That I got to see a girl walking down
Mercer Street and straight into my heart.
My amazing wife, Jane. I would have
missed the joy of her and Remy, our

little girl for whom there are no words.
[On December 21, their son Dashiell
Komarnicki arrived.]
But what about the answers of no;
the giant avalanche of noes that can
accumulate over a lifetime?
Think about the Saturday after the
crucifixion. For the eleven, it was them
on the ledge. An unsurpassed sadness.
No Jesus at their side. Their shock at the
resurrection proves they didn’t expect
it—they thought they’d been abandoned
by the One to whom they’d given all.
So it is when we hear no. After
enough disappointment we begin to
think, Maybe there is no Sunday. We get
stuck on the ledge. We stop looking to
Christ and his promises, homing in on
ourselves and what we didn’t get.
But he’s already given his full self, and
he calls us to do the same, not because
he needs obedient disciples to prove his
godliness, but because he knows that
when we give ourselves away, we are
finally, truly joyous. Clicked into the
rhythm of God’s will. Loved into loving.
When you feel your story is too dark
to turn another page . . . when today

is the one place you can’t bear to be
. . . remember the promises. They’ve
outlived every generation, and they still
clap out like thunder with their truth.
“He will wipe every tear from their
eyes. There will be no more death
or mourning or crying or pain”
(Rev. 21:4; see also Ps. 126:5 and
John 10:27-29).
When things get difficult, it’s like
being stuck in traffic. It makes us nuts.
Funny how we want ever