“Marked by inner scars, yet also empowered by your experiences”

When we begin writing a memoir, we believe it's for others. We believe our story will inspire them. We hope they'll fight and win their own battles because they learned from us how to do it. We hope our stories will inspire them to arrive victoriously on the other side of their messy stuff.

But as much as our memoir is for others, part way into writing our rough drafts we discover something much bigger is happening, and it's happening inside us, the writers. And that surprises most memoirists.

We discover we're on a journey of healing.

That's because writing a memoir includes writing about the painful stuff. Often our ache is so great that we can't endure the writing. But those who persist, who write anyway—crying and clawing and fighting their way through, if necessary—find that getting their stories into writing results in healing.

Writing a memoir changes us because if we give it the needed time and dig deep enough, the process helps us wrestle with ourselves, our memories, and God.

Writing a memoir can:  

• help us make sense of hurtful, confusing incidents,
• reveal answers that have too long evaded us,
• process grief,
• reshape our perspectives,
• help us get un-stuck, and
• move us toward healing, forgiveness, peace, and hope for the future. 

Secular studies show that writing can improve our physical and emotional health and, I'm convinced, it improves our spiritual health as well. The most powerful result of taking time to reflect and unravel is to discover the ways God was actively, graciously, mercifully working out His good plans for us—which you and I probably didn't recognize in the midst of the incident, or saw only dimly.

In that way, writing our stories helps us learn from the past, strengthens us as individuals, deepens our relationship with God, and makes us more grateful than before.

But we won't discover the many blessings unless we're willing to take the time and make the effort to put our stories in writing.

Let's look at what others say:

“When I first started writing out my stories, facing painful memories was difficult,” writes memoirist Kathleen Pooler. “As I kept writing, new insights revealed themselves…just through the process of facing them and writing about them. I experienced healing through reading my own words and began to feel I was on the other side of the pain.” (The Role of Mindfulness and Memoir Writing in Healing: A Reflection) 

“It's hard to go back. To take a moment to stare at the burned parts, the ones seared into the fabric of my life,” writes Amanda Hill. “Sometimes it's okay to remember. Because in the hurt you see all the healing that's taken place over a lifetime. You take note of the way it's formed you.... You see for the first time how far you've really come.”

“[T]hrough writing I've discovered that...protecting and preserving our stories is about discovering God's story,” writes Mick Silva. “What he did through us, with us, in spite of us.... To speak its life-affirming power in proper words and context, it can be the delight of our lives, an endless source of inspiration.”

So we work out the pain, we work through it. Mick also says, “So face the pain. And how is that done? I believe that's done by writing with God.”

“Some days I could not write and some days I could only write a little,” writes Martha Graham-Waldon. “But by the time I finished my memoir, I did have a sense of closure and resolution of my past that brought me to a place of peace in the present. Even though writing my memoir was painful, I know it would have been even more painful not to write it. To carry around the hurt and memories like a cloud hanging over my head would have been harder still. Instead, I was able to release the clouds into bursts of cleansing rainfall and healing sunlight after the storms.” 

Sherrey Meyer writes, “With each word typed, I felt changes taking place. The invisible scars created by years of verbal and emotional abuse seemed to loosen. Old hurts seemed to soften despite the painful process of remembering.”

She also writes, “Writing soothes and heals by extracting those memories from your inner being and on the computer or paper. No longer do those bad memories live in you. You have moved them to another place and time outside yourself. ” 

You’ll especially want to read Cecil Murphey’s words. He describes himself as a “hurting, fragmented individual” as a result of childhood abuse. He writes that after he became a Christian, “I grew beyond the pain, but those childhood memories remained. For most of my life, I wanted to obliterate them.”

He shares significant lessons he has learned since then:

“First, I couldn’t undo my agony, no matter how many times I relived the memories or wished my childhood had been different.

“Second, I… connected with people on a more-than-surface level…. I sensed their pain and felt deep compassion for them…. I assumed it was in spite of my dysfunctional background—that is, that I had overcome the trauma of a negative childhood. About four years ago, however, I realized I’ve been able to connect with others because I experienced pain and struggled for spiritual healing. I call that reusing my pain.

“The agonizing memories no longer hurt or cripple me. Instead I’m using my experiences to understand others enmeshed in trauma. At the same time, my soul remains scarred. For me, that means the trauma has been covered by God’s grace, even though the distressful memories won’t be totally erased. Not only do I accept those scars, but I’m at peace. Because I experienced emotional damage and anguish, I find common meeting places with others whose wounds still fester.

“Here’s the best lesson I’ve learned: Although I’m marked by my inner scars, I’m also empowered by my experiences. I need both. We need both.”  (Scars)

Recognizing God’s loving involvement in your life,

even through the painful parts,

transforms you and deepens your faith for the future.

If you doubt that, give it a try—

write your stories,

discern what God was up to

and discover how your life and faith have changed.

Your stories about mothers and motherhood

What can you write—or should you write—about your mother? Or the mother of your children? Or about being a mother yourself?

All of us have stories about mothers and if we’ll make time to put them in writing, our families will be all the richer for them.

Yes, our families will be all the richer for them. Take in Bruce Feiler’s message:

“What is the secret sauce that holds a family together? What are the ingredients that make some families effective, resilient, happy?”

In researching those questions, Feiler says, “a surprising theme emerged. The single most important thing you can do for your family may be the simplest of all: develop a strong family narrative.”

His research showed that the more children know of their family’s stories, the more they demonstrate emotional health and happiness and the more resilient they are when faced with challenges.

If you’ve followed this blog for a while, you know that when I read those words I hollered, “Yessss! That’s why we write memoirs!” 

Are you thinking what I’m thinking?

Through research, Feiler discovered God was on the right track when He told us to tell our kids and grandkids what we’ve seen Him do for us (Deuteronomy 4:9; 6:5-9; 6:20-25). Their research verifies Jesus knew what he was talking about when he said, “Go tell your family what the Lord has done for you” (Mark 5:19). (Read more at The secret sauce)

Feiler concludes, “Bottom line: if you want a happier family, create, refine, and retell the story of your family’s positive moments and the ability to bounce back from the difficult ones. That act alone may increase the odds that your family will thrive for many generations to come.” (“The Stories That Bind Us,” New York Times)

So, since this is the week of Mother's Day, write stories about your mother or a mother you know or your own motherhood. Such stories are important.

I’ve assembled the following quotes to stir up memories from years ago, quotes to inspire you to get out a pen and paper, or sit down at your computer, and start writing:

“From my mother did I enter this world and from my loins did my children arrive and there is a bond between us mothers that holds generations and families together. There are recipes and stories and birthing and bathing and it’s more powerful than spider’s silk….” (Amanda Hill, “Ode to Mothers”)

“A mother is neither cocky, nor proud, because she knows the school principal may call at any minute to report that her child had just driven a motorcycle through the gymnasium.” (Mary Kay Blakely)

“I believe it is impossible to overestimate the power a boy feels and the influence it has in his life when he looks at his Mother and sees that she has seen him, has looked into his soul and found something there that makes her glow.” (Randall Wallace, Living the Braveheart Life)  

“All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.” (Abraham Lincoln)

“I am stretched and tired and fearful. I am wild and brave and broken. My closet has a sense of humor and clothes in every size. I have danced circles into the midnight carpet… rocked restless babies, cut baby curls, snipped fingernails…. I have tripped on Legos, stepped on scooters, slept on bottom bunks, and strung yards of white, twinkling lights above the heads of two blonde brothers afraid of the dark and their bad dreams…. I am overwhelmed, infatuated, love struck and completely unhinged. Especially on the nights they bring in wild flowers and all the every-loving mud in the world….” (Lisa-Jo Baker, “The (real life) dictionary definition of ‘Mother’”)  

“From the time they take their first step, it’s a battle of emotions… cheering them on as they move forward, taking a piece of you farther away with every step. The sleepless nights, the hours of school work at the kitchen table and the fevered afternoons, cool washrag pressed to hot forehead. Who can ever sum up the job description of ‘Mother?’ And all this, when they never belong to us in the first place. Ultimately, the job of a mother is to make herself obsolete.”  (E.P. Hale, “The Leadership Influence of Mothers”)

“The influence of a mother’s leadership may not earn worldly awards, accolades or prestige. But one thing we can be sure of … it makes a difference, maybe even all the difference.” ( E.P. Hale “The Leadership Influence of Mothers”)

“Behind all your stories is always your mother’s story, because hers is where yours began.” (Mitch Albom)

“A mother has a way of seeing through your ugly, and always bearing your burdens. She prays hard and makes you feel that there is love in the universe when you can’t see it and a beating heart when you can’t hear it and consistency in her acceptance even when you feel lost or thrown away…. And she reminds you that God redeems, and we must always forgive, and everything we do must be rooted in kindness.” (Amanda Hill, “Ode to Mothers”)   

“I know of no more permanent imprint on a life than the one made by mothers.... More than any statesman or teacher, more than any minister or physician, more than any film star, athlete, business person, author, scientist, civic leader, entertainer, or military hero ... you are the most influential person in your child's life.  

“There would never have been an Isaac without a Sarah, a Moses without a Jachobed, a Samuel without a Hannah.... 

“And so, mothers, don't ever forget the permanence of your imprint. The kids may seem ungrateful, they may act irresponsible, they may even ignore your reminders and forget your advice these days. But believe this: They cannot erase your influence.” (Chuck Swindoll, “The Greatest Influence”)

Happy Mother's Day!