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!

 

Marvel at the mosaic of your life

What does a memoir and a mosaic have in common?

You’ve probably known about mosaics since you were a little kid, but today let’s take another look.  

A mosaic is a collection of small stones (or bits of colored glass, tiles, pebbles, paper squares, seashells, or similar materials) which, when arranged and glued together just so, create a large picture, a piece of art.

Think of your life as a mosaic, and then read these words from Henri Nouwen. They’ll get the wheels turning in your head:

“A mosaic consists of thousands of little stones.

Some are blue, some are green,

some are yellow, some are gold.

When we bring our faces close to the mosaic,

we can admire the beauty of each stone.

But as we step back from it,

we can see that all those little stones

reveal to us a beautiful picture,

telling a story none of these stones can tell by itself.”

Henri Nouwen, Bread for the Journey

(emphasis mine)

In the story of your life, stones of one color represent one experience, stones of a different color represent another experience.

Stones of other colors represent:

each person who comes into your life,

each choice,

each victory,

each relationship,

each heartbreak,

each celebration,

each new job,

each mistake,

each new home,

each joy,

each setback,

each surprise,

each significant life event.

Each little piece has a size and shape and color and texture of its own. Some are light and crisp and fresh. Others are dark and dull and brooding, while others are shiny and intense.

Each little piece plays a special part.

We often recognize the individual pieces—the individual events and people—of our lives and appreciate them up close at the time, but what about the bigger picture?

In writing memoir, we deliberately do what Nouwen says:

We step back, take a broader, deeper, higher look.

We glimpse the bigger picture, The Big Picture—

and WOW, it can surprise us!

It can bring us to tears.

Taken together, like Nouwen says,

it can “reveal to us a beautiful picture,

telling a story none of these stones can tell by itself.”

And we realize that without each piece, the larger picture would lack in vibrancy and beauty, and it would be incomplete.

Make time to recognize not only the smaller bits and pieces of your life, but to stand back and marvel at the big picture.

When you do, you might hear God whisper in your ear: “Remember all the times I told you I knew the plans I had for you? They have been good plans, plans to prosper, not harm you. Plans to give you hope and a future” (Jeremiah 29:11).

When you look at the big picture, you’ll witness the way God brings beauty from ashes (Isaiah 61:3).

You’ll see that God does make everything beautiful in its time (Ecclesiastes 3:11).

Look for God’s fingerprints and footprints all over the mosaic of your life. Notice the ways God has guided you and brought you to where and who you are today. He is making a beautiful picture out of you and your life.

When you write your memoir, 

assemble the pieces—

the small bits of colored glass, stone, tiles, 

pebbles, paper squares, seashells—

and you’ll begin to see that, together, 

they’re “telling a story none of these stones can tell by itself.”

Key people in your life: A perfect preparation

In the Bible study Anointed, Transformed, Redeemed, Beth Moore recommends:

“Name several people God has used to make the biggest investments on the servant you are becoming in Christ. Beside each name, write a phrase describing what you’ve received most from that person.”

Let’s do it!

1. ­­­­­­­­­­­­­­_____________________________________________________________

2. _____________________________________________________________

3. _____________________________________________________________

4. ­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­_____________________________________________________________

Beth continues,

“Now go back and draw a ‘+’ under each line to add it to the next. Then in the space under the last line, jot down several ways you are distinct from all of them. The sum total is a tiny glimpse of who you are.

“Your uniqueness as an earthen vessel of Christ in your generation will often result from having a couple of tablespoons of one person’s influence on you, a fourth of a cup of another’s, and a teaspoon of many….” (emphasis mine)

Wendy Welch passes on this wisdom she learned from Dan Keding:

“A personal story is not about you. It’s about all the people around you. If you are the hero of your own story, it’s not going to come out right, ring true, or be interesting enough to hold people’s attention.… Talk about what happened to other people first, and how you felt about that, what you did because of it.…

“[Dan] told us about growing up in Chicago with a Holocaust survivor friend named Stan. His story was about Stan, but when it was over, we all knew so much more about Dan.”  (Me-me-me Memoirs; emphasis mine)

Think about this: Those people on your list did not just accidentally enter your life. God gave them a role to play in making you into the person you are today, and into the person you are becoming. Their story is part of your story.

Like Corrie Ten Boom said, “Every person [God] puts in our lives, is the perfect preparation for the future that only he can see.” 

Use today’s exercise (and review “Like a Sneak Attack”) to write your stories, thanking God for gifting you with those special individuals!

Pray, too, for God to use you and your memoir to serve as a holy tablespoon of influence—or even a fourth of a cup!—in your readers’ lives.

References and links:

Anointed, Transformed, Redeemed,

http://www.lifeway.com/Product/anointed-transformed-redeemed-a-study-of-david-member-book-P005159143

Wendy Welch, Me-me-me Memoirs,

http://wendywelchbigstonegap.wordpress.com/2012/02/01/me-me-me-memoirs

Like a Sneak Attack,

http://spiritualmemoirs101.blogspot.com/2012/01/like-sneak-attack.html