Writing about God’s interruptions in your life

Do you like interruptions? I don't.

I make plans. I have a schedule. And long-term goals. Dreams. And I don't want anything or anyone to disrupt me. 

But, of course, interruptions do come into everyone's lives and sometimes they are epic—especially if the interruption comes from God!

In retrospect, we can recognize that God's interruptions were major turning points and opportunities for learning and maturing.

Have you thought about writing in your memoir

about your interruptions?

Recently I wrote that life's interruptions can resemble earthquakes.

Have you ever felt an earthquake?

 

I experienced Seattle’s 1965 earthquake. People felt it across Washington, British Columbia, Idaho, and Oregon. The 6.5 quake (some officials called it a 6.7) lasted 45 seconds, and that’s a long time for an earthquake of that magnitude.

 

And the earth’s eerie roar lasted even longer than that.

 

Sometimes life can feel like an earthquake. Without warning, a jolt rocks your world. What has seemed solid and predictable and dependable suddenly lurches and crumbles. And even when the shaking stops, the jarring trauma rolls on.

 

And the eerie roar lasts longer than that.

Years after the Seattle earthquake, my husband burst through our front door and announced he wanted us to move to South America so he could teach missionaries’ kids.

 

The ground beneath my feet felt like another major earthquake had struck and I literally fell to the floor. (You can read about it in my memoir, Please, God, Don’t Make Me Go: A Foot-Dragger’s Memoir.)

 

In the following months, the eerie roar rumbled on.

My dreams and plans had taken a hit.

My sense of where my life was headed had fallen apart.

 

What I didn’t know then was that interruption—the earthquake that my husband (and eventually, it turned out, that God, too) sprung on me was meant for good.

 

I would later learn that some of my dreams and plans weren’t the best for me and my family. They needed to crumble down in ruins.

 

But I didn’t comprehend that then. Instead, the stuff of earthquakes—like crumbled bricks and debris—covered me. It was dark down there. I felt bruised and broken. Alone.

 

I was only 27 years young. The old me now wishes I could have told the 27-year-old me that I could live a good life even after earthquakes and loss and the shock of it all.

 

In fact, those three years in South America

were the best of our lives!

I praise and thank God

that He interrupted my plans!

 

As Christine Caine said,

“Sometimes when you’re in a dark place

you think you’ve been buried,

but you’ve actually been planted.”

 

That was true for me. What started as a devastating earthquake ended up being a mountaintop experience.

 

God’s interruption turned into

one of my life’s richest blessings.

 

How about you?

 

Think of the ways God has interrupted your plans. What detours did He place in your path? What curveballs did He throw at you?

And what stories can you include in your memoir about God's interruptions?

• Did you welcome God's interruption, or resist it?
• If you resisted it, what eventually convinced you to do what He was inviting you to do?
• What obstacles and fears and worldliness did you have to overcome in order to carry out His task for you?
• How did God's interruption show you your plans weren't His best for you, and that He was steering you in a different and better direction?
• In what specific ways did God's interruption prove to be a divine appointment, a major turning point in your life?
• How have God's interruptions led you to love Him increasingly with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength (the most important—the foremost, the greatest—commandment, Mark 12:28-30, Matthew 22:36-37)?

Put your stories into writing! Remember:

Be careful never to forget

what you've seen the Lord do for you.

Do not let these things escape from your mind

as long as you live!

And be sure to pass them on

to your children and grandchildren.

(Deuteronomy 4:9, NLT)

We, your people, the sheep of your pasture, will thank You forever and ever, praising Your greatness from generation to generation (Psalm 79:13b, NLT).

Refuse to take the lazy route

 

Chuck Swindoll writes about “people who go through life with their eyes closed. They look but don’t really ‘see’ . . . they observe the surface but omit the underneath . . . they focus on images but not issues . . . vision is present but perception is absent. . . .

 

“Remove insight,” Chuck continues, “and you suddenly reduce life to existence with frequent flashes of boredom and indifference. . . . Please understand, I do not mean to be critical of those who cannot go deeper . . . but of those who can but will not.”

 

Chuck concludes: “Open your eyes! Think! Apply! Dig! Listen!” (Charles R. Swindoll, Growing Strong in the Seasons of Life)

 

Chuck’s message is perfect for those who write memoirs.

 

Many a time you’ve heard me emphasize the importance of introspection and reflection when it comes to writing a memoir. Of digging deeply.

 

But it’s hard work to make time for all that contemplating and assessing.

 

And all too often we’re in a hurry to get our stories in print.

 

However, I urge you to do what Chuck says: “Open your eyes! Think! Apply! Dig! Listen!” so that you can write multi-layered stories based on not only what happened, but what it all means—what you learned and where it all led.

 

What do you recognize now that you overlooked in the past?

What do you know now that you didn’t know before?

 

And this is so important: What was God doing?

 

What new places did God take you—

emotionally, physically, mentally, spiritually?

In hindsight, what new opportunities did He give you?

What lessons did He teach you?

How is your relationship with Him different now?

 

Sit quietly with your story and imagine God sitting there beside you. He’s eager to help you dissect your past and make sense of it.

 

Listen for what He might tell you. Watch for what He might show you.

 

Often He surprises us with what He helps us piece together. What new person are you now as a result of your past experiences and your examination of them?

 

If you want to uncover the profound parts of your story,

you need to invest in reflection and introspection.

Go deep. Refuse to stay in the shallow end.

 

“Oftentimes insight into what all has transpired comes later and in layers,” writes Beth Moore. “One of the many gifts of aging in a walk with God is that you can look over your shoulder and see that some pieces of the puzzle really did end up fitting. Yep,” she says, “this makes sense. Surely didn’t at the time.”

 

As a memoirist, then, your job is to recollect, reminisce, identify, contemplate, review. And snap puzzle pieces together.

 

Beth Barthelemy asks herself, 

and we memoirists would do well to ask ourselves: 

“Am I willing to sit in silence—

highly uncomfortable for those of us who are new to it—

in order to hear the voice of God?”