Is this the year you’ll publish your memoir?

 

Whew! Are you like me? When Christmas and New Years are behind me, I catch my breath, mentally turn, and step into a different chunk of the year.

 

The holidays hold many distractions—fun distractions, usually—but when we take down our old calendars and replace them with new calendars, it’s time to refocus. We look ahead and make plans: We remind ourselves we’ll have a couple of months of fewer hours of daylight, we’ll have cold weather and maybe snowy roads, and we’ll focus on indoor activities.

 

And that brings me to this indoor activity: How are you doing on writing your memoir?

 

Is this the year you’ll finalize your manuscript?

 

Is this the year you’ll pin down your memoir’s title?

 

Is this the year your book will get its cover design?

 

Is this the year you’ll publish your memoir?

 

Is this the year people—even strangers—will buy and read your memoir?

 

Is this the year your story will change lives?

 

If you’re like many of us, over the holidays you took a break from writing to spend time with family and friends, and now you need motivation to continue authoring your story.

 

Are you struggling to find that motivation—that incentive, that enthusiasm? If so, you’re not alone.

 

At such times, it’s easy to get distracted—because, for many, it’s hard to get back into the writing process. It’s hard to focus.

 

So we fidget. We check Instagram. Send a couple of text messages. Grab a snack, go shopping—all in an attempt to get back into our groove.

 

You’ll probably identify with this Mignon McLaughlin quote:

 

“There’s only one person

who needs a glass of water oftener than

a small child tucked in for the night,

and that’s a writer sitting down to write.”

 

Mick Silva at Higher Purpose Writers posted on Facebook a couple of years ago: “. . . Everyone says [persistence] is the most important part of writing. I’ve said it to all my clients: Most people don’t finish. Even if they finish a draft, they don’t follow through with the rewriting, or the rereading and editing. They just stop. . . .”

 

Refuse to let that happen to you!

 

Mick also offers this encouragement: “Consistent baby steps are important for when passion wanes.”

 

So, persist! Remember: Even baby steps result in progress.

 

And here’s a Nora Roberts quote to inspire you to keep working:

 

“. . . You have to be driven. You have to have the three D’s: drive, discipline, and desire. If you’re missing any one of those three, you can have all the talent in the world, but it’s going to be really hard to get anything done,” Nora says.

 

Here’s my advice: Pat yourself on the back for how far you’ve already come.

 

Since the clock is ticking, be intentional: Keep penning your first draft. Don’t judge your writing at this point. Sure, you’ll have to fix it, but you’ll tackle that later. For now, just write!

 

Focus. Resolve to complete your book.

 Persevere.

 Pray.

 

Writing and publishing your memoir is not a hobby—it’s a ministry.

 

You can do this! You can!

 

Your life: holy threads, consecrated strands, hallowed fibers, blessed filaments

Your job, as a memoirist, is to do the hard work of discerning and writing about "the designing hand of God and his intervention in our lives" (Ravi Zacharias).

Think about God's footprints alongside ours, His fingerprints all over our lives: Divine intervention.

Sounds good, doesn't it? We like having God intimately involved in our lives.

But " . . . divine intervention is nowhere near as simple a thing as we might imagine," writes Ravi Zacharias (Grand Weaver: How God Shapes Us Through the Events of Our Lives). 

Think about this: 

Sometimes our footprints, and those alongside ours, are muddy, or worse.

Sometimes tattered, holey shoes left those footprints.

Sometimes God's fingerprints all over our lives are sticky, smudged, scarred, bloody. Sometimes the fingerprints we leave behind are, too.

Divine intervention "cannot be only a journey of unmistakable blessing and a path of ease," Zacharias continues. "To allow God to be God we must follow him for who he is and what he intends. . . ."

Each of us has countless blessings and yet, each of us has experienced heartaches, disappointments, failures.

Sometimes life knocks the air out of us.

Too many experience betrayal. Unfaithfulness. Rejection. Abuse.

Some know hunger and sickness and handicaps and homelessness.

We know loss, grief, exhaustion, confusion.

Hopelessness. 

At such times we can be tempted to despair, thinking God doesn't love us enough, or that His plans for us are not good enough. We think we deserve better from Him.

Other times our lives seem hum-drum. We're boring people living boring lives. We wonder if we matter, if we are worth anything of value.

". . . Incident follows incident helter-skelter leading apparently nowhere," Frederick Buechner writes, "but then once in a while there is the suggestion of purpose, meaning, direction, the suggestion of plot. . . ." (The Alphabet of Grace).

That's what Zacharias calls us to see: "the designing hand of God and his intervention in our lives" so that "we know he has a specific purpose for each of us and that he will carry us through until we meet him face-to-face. . . ."

Yes, sometimes life is overwhelmed with sadness, other times life is blah, but if we let Him, and work with Him, God uses all of it to shape and polish us, to mature us and beautify us, even though we might not understand it at the time, or even see it.

Zacharias challenges us to imagine our lives as exquisite fabric: vivid, brilliant colors with threads of gold and silver intertwined. He wants us to see God as the "Grand Weaver . . . with a design in mind for you, a design that will adorn you as he uses your life to fashion you for his purpose, using all the threads within his reach."

You are important to God. You are His workmanship, His treasure. Your life is sacred.

God is custom-making the fabric of your life. Look back over the years and search for each thread and color: the dark ones and the pastel ones, the heavy ones and the light ones, the coarse ones and the golden ones. Those are holy threads. Consecrated strands. Hallowed fibers. Blessed filaments.

Search. Make it your quest to discover the excellent, one-of-a-kind pattern the Grand Weaver is creating out of you.

Go back: Look for spools of thread, God-designed, for you alone. Watch and listen for the sound of the shuttle going back and forth in God's hand. He's making something beautiful: YOU.

The more you grasp

how important you are to God,

and that He's crafting you

into His masterpiece,

the better you can write

your God-and-you stories,

the better you can share them with

your children,

grandchildren, great-grandchildren,

and generations yet unborn. 

On authoring change: Listening and looking at your life candidly, searchingly, and feelingly

 

What kind of difference could you make, or do you want to make, or need to make, with the time you have left on this earth?

 

Here’s another question for you:

 

“ . . . How do you turn your dream of making a positive and meaningful difference in the world into a reality?”

 

Nina Amir asks the question and then she answers it for you: “You author change.

 

“You write and publish a book that inspires positive action or change. . . .”

 

Here’s another question for you:

 

“Can we listen to ourselves in the silence? Can we sit and wait for the whispers of our souls to come creeping, slowly, falteringly, letter by letter through our pens? Can we allow our truest selves to tell their stories through the gateway of broken language . . . ? Catch it before it is gone, capture it in a jumble of letters. . . .” Edith Ó Nualláin

 

Always remember: Your story is part of God’s much larger story.

 

Jesus said, “Go tell your family everything God has done for you” (Luke 8:39). That means writing a memoir is a holy work, a ministry.

 

As a memoirist, you have the privilege of working with sacred stories—stories that are for the most part stories of everyday events and ordinary people. It’s a holy calling to tell the next generations about God’s involvement in their lives and their families’ lives (see Psalm 145:4 and Deuteronomy 4:9).

 

“The writers who get my personal award are the ones who show exceptional promise of looking at their lives in this world as candidly and searchingly and feelingly as they know how,” writes Frederick Buechner, “and then of telling the rest of us what they have found there most worth finding. We need the eyes of writers like that to see through. We need the blood of writers like that in our veins.”  

 

What have you found that’s most worth finding?

 

Write it in your memoir before it’s too late. “Catch it before it is gone.”

 

“The world needs change agents,” says Nina Amir. “It’s your time to make a positive and meaningful impact with your words.”

 

Your words, your stories—your memoir—could do that. It’s your time, Nina says.

 

It’s your time!

 

On sputtering flames and rekindling sparks: Offering others the light someone gave to you

 

Every once in a while, a passage of Annie Dillard’s makes sense to me. (I usually struggle to grasp much of her writings. How about you?)

 

But recently one of her anecdotes came across loud and clear. In Holy the Firm, she writes about a camping trip, reading at night by candlelight, and watching moths flying into the flames.

 

She writes:

 

“One night. . . a golden female moth, a biggish one with a two-inch wingspan, flapped into the fire, dropped her abdomen into the wet wax, stuck, flamed, frazzled and fried in a second. Her moving wings ignited like tissue paper, enlarging the circle of light in the clearing. . . .

 

“Her six legs clawed, curled, blackened, and ceased, disappearing utterly. And her head jerked in spasms. . . her antennae crisped and burned away. . . . Her head was . . . gone. . . .

 

“All that was left was the glowing horn shell of her abdomen and thorax—a fraying, partially collapsed gold tube jammed upright in the candle’s round pool.

 

“And then this . . . spectacular skeleton, began to act as a wick. She kept burning . . . a saffron-yellow flame. . . . She burned for two hours without changing . . . while I read by her light.” (Annie Dillard, Holy the Firm)

  

That reminds me of Albert Schweitzer’s quote:

 

“At times our own light goes out 

and is rekindled by a spark from another person. 

Each of us has cause to think 

with deep gratitude 

of those who have lighted the flame within us.”

 

Read those two sentences again and pause to think:

 

How many times has your light dimmed and faltered, only to be rekindled by a spark—a light shared—from another person?

 

In what ways did God arrange events to bring that person into your life?

 

Back then, you might not have recognized God’s efforts to bring that person into your life, but it’s not too late!

 

Think about Annie Dillard’s moth. Think of people who are no longer with you but whose lives and light have lived on, guiding you, encouraging and inspiring you to fight the good fight. I think of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., former U.S. Representative John Lewis, Helen Keller, Corrie Ten Boom.

 

I have a hunch that the brightest sparks of light in your life are people who don’t make it into the news or Wikipedia or books. Maybe he or she was:

• a neighbor,
• or a grocery clerk,
• a fireman,
• a four-year-old,
• a writer,
• a parent or grandparent,
• an athlete
• a librarian,
• a nurse,
• a conference speaker,
• a coach,
• your best friend,
• a new friend,
• or even a stranger that you never saw again.

 

Who “enlarged the circle of light” available to you? Who “kept burning . . . while you read by her light”?

 

Be deliberate. Make time to remember.

 

Snap the puzzle pieces together. Connect the dots and notice the ways God hovered close, using that person to rekindle your light.

 

Uncover it, even if it takes weeks or months.

 

Here’s a suggestion:

 

Make yourself a working document, a three-column list, one column for your “dark” times, a second column for the people who shared their light, and a third column to make notes about specifics that come to mind.

 

Some, if not all, of those incidents are stories to write in your memoir.

 

When you write, dig deep. And deeper. Refuse to skim over the shallow surface of life.

 

What did you learn about yourself through both the dimming of your light and the rekindling of it?

 

What new and better person did you become?

 

 As a result, how did your life change?

 

What did you learn about God?

 

How did the experience strengthen your faith?

 

How did it inspire you to be a light in other people’s lives?

 

When you write about those experiences, you are saying, like David in Psalm 18:28, “My God turns my darkness into light.”

 

2 Peter 2:9 speaks to those chosen by God, set apart, belonging to God, for a purpose: “that you might declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.”

 

Just think!

Through your memoir you can pass on to others

the light someone gave to you!

 

Your story can reach into the lives and hearts and minds

of those whose lights have dimmed and faltered.

 

Your memoir can rekindle a spark

that can grow into bright flames of light.

 

Wow! Just Wow!