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?”