Write your memoir “on the cutting edge of what’s going on in God’s heart”

 

“In Raise Up A Standard—A Challenge to Christian Writers,

Michael Phillips asks,

‘Do we want to write

the sensational or the significant?

He challenges Christian writers

‘to be on the cutting edge, not of trends,

not of what’s going on in publishing . . .

but to be on the cutting edge

of what’s going on in God’s heart. . . .

If you believe in your message,

don’t give up on it.

Don’t water it down.

Don’t sensationalize it

just to get published

or to try to make it a best-seller.

Stand firm, in integrity and truthfulness,

for what God has given you to communicate.’”

(Eureka, CA: Sunrise Books, pp. 29-31).”

 (From Marlene Bagnull’s Write His Answer:

A Bible Study for Christian Writers.)

 

I like that: In writing memoir, let’s “be on the cutting edge of what’s going on in God’s heart.”

 

After all, here at SM 101, we consider our writing to be a ministry, not a hobby. (Be sure to click on Do you think of yourself as an ordained writer?)

 

Remember what Deuteronomy 4:9 says: “Always remember what you’ve seen God do and be sure to tell your children and grandchildren.”

 

And in Luke 8:39, Jesus said, “Go, tell your family everything God has done for you.”

 

Accomplishing that, however, can be a daunting task.

 

How can any mere human do what Michael Phillips said:

to know, and then to write, on the cutting edge

of what’s going on in God’s heart?

 

Henri Nouwen tells us how to begin, how to end, and how to accomplish everything in between. He uses the word “solitude.”

 

“. .  We are usually surrounded by so much outer noise that it is hard to truly hear our God. . . . We need to learn to listen to God, who constantly speaks but whom we seldom hear.”

 

We need, he says, “a life in which there is some free inner space where we can listen to our God and follow His guidance. . . .

 

“Solitude begins with a time and a place for God,

and God alone. . . .

We need to set aside a time and space

to give God our undivided attention.

(Matthew 6:6)”

(Henry J.W. Nouwen, Making All Things New and Other Classics) 

(Also click on “Bringing Solitude Into Our Lives,

Excerpts from MAKING ALL THINGS New”.)

 

Always remember: Your story is important. God can use it to shape the lives of your children, grandchildren, great-grands, and anyone else who reads your story, including the “spiritual” children God has given you. Not all of us have children, but we all have “spiritual” children who look up to us and model their lives after ours—more than we realize.

 

You know from experience

how powerful other people’s stories can be.

Many of them inspired you,

opened new worlds,

sent you in different and better directions,

and made you who you are today.

 

Believe this:

Your story can impact your readers

in the same way.

 

While you write the rough draft of your memoir,

ask God to show you what He wants you to communicate.

 

Set aside time for listening to God for His answer.

 

Take Henri Nouwen’s advice:

Make time to spend quality time with God,

in solitude with Him.

Give Him your undivided attention.

 

And then write your stories.

 

More inspiration for beginners: And then I remembered the weevils . . . .

“I didn’t know you had these pictures, Mom!”

Matt’s face beamed. He grinned his biggest grin, spellbound by the photos he held in his hands.

Hushed, he studied one snapshot after another.

“These will be great, Mom, to show my girls the people and places I’ve been telling them about all these years.”

Matt was talking about pictures I took in South America when he was age six through nine and our family lived in a remote mission center at the end of the road in the middle of nowhere. 

Because of Matt’s delight in discovering those old pictures, I scanned old slides by the hundreds, getting prints, scrapbooking them, and placing them in three-ring binders among written stories from those years. (And eventually, I wrote a memoir, Please, God, Don’t Make Me Go: A Foot-Dragger’s Memoir.)

What are the takeaways for you?

Point #1: Include photos with your memoirs. Your children and grandchildren will be at least as delighted as my Matt was to see our old photos.

Point #2: Photos can help you discover, and then add, detail and richness and depth and breadth to your memoir—and those are important ingredients for (a) capturing readers’ interests and (b) helping them live your stories with you. 

Readers can get inside your stories when you recreate them through the five senses—sight, sound, taste, touch, and smell. Photos can help you do that. (Remember Peter Jacobi’s words, “No story has a divine right to be read.”)

For example, here are two photos of the little commissary at our mission center in South America. That's me in the red shirt. (Oh, my, I was much younger then. And slenderer.  Sigh . . . .)

When I stumbled upon those pictures many years later, I remembered the commissary’s smells: ripe, tropical fruit. Powdered laundry detergent. Broccoli. And rancid bread—if the bread man had come.

And then I remembered the burlap bags. Since we had no paper bags, one of our options was to lug groceries home in colorful locally-made burlap totes. They were coarse and scratchy and had a dried-grass-burlap-ish smell.

And then I remembered the flour I bought at the commissary, hand-scooped (by someone, somewhere—I probably didn’t want to know the specifics) into tiny little plastic bags, usually a bit grimy. 

And then I remembered the weevils that lived in that flour.

And then I remembered that at first, I didn’t know what to do about the weevils. I must have led a very sheltered life because I didn’t even know what weevils were, let alone that they could live in flour.

When I first arrived at the mission center, no one taught me that I could (a) put the flour in the freezer and freeze those little critters to death, or (b) spread the flour on a cookie sheet and bake them to death. Then all I had to do was sift out their lifeless little bodies.

And then I remembered that before I knew how to murder weevils, I fed them to a big crowd. I was asked to bring cinnamon roles to an event and, you guessed it—they were speckled inside with little black, crunchy dots—dead weevils. (You can read more in my memoir, Please, God, Don’t Make Me Go: A Foot-Dragger’s Memoir.)

See what I mean about the value of photos? I knew those stories—but I had forgotten them. I needed to rediscover them. Taking another look at those photos did that for me. And then I could include them and their stories in my memoir.

Sharon Lippincott, too, knows the value and joy of old photos. Reading her "Photographic Memory Jolts" was pure enjoyment for me. From only one photo, she listed dozens of memories.

Take, for example, Sharon’s memories of saddle oxfords. Her post reminded me that every morning before school, I spent a lot of time polishing my own saddle shoes—the white part and the black part.

And I’d forgotten all about my Ivy League saddle shoes with the oh-so-cool little buckle in the back.

And then there was Sharon’s memory of Natalie Wood using Scotch Tape to keep her bangs in place while they dried. Yes, I did that too.

Sharon’s post is a fun read, a treasure trove of history especially if you’re around my age—and all from just one photo!

How about you? Pull out an old photo related to one of the stories in your memoir.

• What emotions does it stir up?
• What songs were popular at that time?
• What styles of clothing, eyeglasses, hairstyles, shoes, furniture, and architecture does the photo capture?
• Does the photo raise questions?
• What happened just before the photo was taken? Just afterward?
• Was something significant brewing at the time, even if you didn’t know it until later?
• In later years, what happened to the people in the photo?
• Does it remind you of additional stories?

Go beyond looking at your old photos. What smells come to mind? Textures? Sounds? Tastes? Sights?

Listen. Smell. Feel. Taste. 

Relive. 

Unravel.

I have a hunch you’ll discover details 

that will add gusto to your stories.

Have fun!