Beyond entertainment: Challenge your readers to “do a doggie head-tilt”

 

You want to change your readers, not just entertain them.

 

Be sure at least some of your memoir’s stories challenge your readers to think.

 

Make them question.

 

Motivate them to stretch and wrestle with issues.

 

Move them to examine their assumptions and expectations to see if they’re valid.

 

Challenge your readers to do what Mike Metzger calls “a doggie head-tilt.” To look at things differently than before. Mike says, “If your head never tilts, your mind never changes.”

 

Persuade readers to tilt their heads and look at issues from another angle. To rethink what they believe. To reevaluate—and to maybe arrive at a different conclusion than they ever have before.

 

Open their minds to other possibilities, other interpretations, or other meanings.

 

Write stories that will give readers

a holy discontent with things that are not right in their lives—

not to make them wallow in guilt,

but to offer them God-pleasing options.

James 4:8-10 comes to mind:

“Come close to God, and God will come close to you. . . .

Purify your hearts,

for your loyalty is divided between God and the world. . . .

Humble yourselves before the Lord,

and He will lift you up in honor.”

Also, see John 14:27.

 

Write stories that will give readers

a holy discontent with the ways of the world—

materialism: possessions and trinkets,

meaningless mindsets and pursuits—and instead

inspire them to live lives of God-centered

substance and purpose.

Elaborate on what Jesus meant when he said,

“You do not belong to the world,

but I have chosen you out of the world” (John 15:19).

Also, see Romans 12:2.

 

The following prayer teems with ideas for your memoir:

 

Disturb us, Lord, when

We are too well pleased with ourselves,

When our dreams have come true

Because we have dreamed too little,

When we arrive safely

Because we sailed too close to the shore.

 

Disturb us, Lord, when

With the abundance of things we possess

We have lost our thirst

For the waters of life;

Having fallen in love with life,

We have ceased to dream of eternity

And in our effort to build a new earth,

We have allowed our vision

Of the new Heaven to dim.

 

Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly,

To venture on wilder seas

Where storms will show Your mastery;

Where losing sight of land,

We shall find the stars.

 

We ask You to push back

The horizons of our hopes;

And to push into the future

In strength, courage, hope, and love.

Attributed to Sir Francis Drake, 1577

 

Look at the first couple of lines: “Disturb us, Lord, when we are too well pleased with ourselves.”

• What does “too well pleased with ourselves” mean to you, specifically?
• What past events come to mind?
• When were you too pleased with yourself? Or was someone else too pleased with himself?
• What were the results of that mindset?
• Why would/should we pray for God to disturb us over that attitude? What Bible verses illustrate that?
• What lessons can you share with your readers?

 

Look at the next couple of lines: “Disturb us, Lord, when . . . our dreams have come true because we have dreamed too little.”

• What does dreaming “too little” mean?
• When did you, or someone you know, dream too little?
• What was the result?
• Why should we want God to disturb our wimpy dreams?
• Tell readers the lessons you learned and how things could have been done differently. In this way, you are mentoring your readers.

 

Sift through your memories for stories that illustrate “Disturb us, Lord, when . . . we arrive safely because we sailed too close to the shore,” and when we focus on an “abundance of things.”

 

Then look at the third stanza.

• When did a different you dare more boldly and venture into wilder seas where, as a result, storms showed you God’s mastery?
• What can you write about “discovering the stars”?
• You’ll want to explain what the following means: “wider seas,” “storms,” “God’s mastery,” “losing sight of the land,” and finding “stars.”

 

Remember,

writing your memoir is not just a hobby.

It’s a ministry.

 

God can use your story to guide, inspire, encourage, influence, motivate, and empower.

 

“Sometimes a particular story, or version of a story, 

is so potent,” says Ayd Instone, 

“that it becomes so interwoven in our lives 

that it defines the direction our life story takes 

and modifies behavior. . . .”

 

In a similar way, your memoir can change your readers.

 

Challenge them to “do a doggie head-tilt.”

 

Be intentional. Make it happen.

 

Back to basics: What is a Memoir?

 

If you’re thinking about writing a memoir, you need to know the definition of “memoir.”

 

And if you’re already writing your story, sometimes you need to remind yourself what a memoir is. This helps focus correctly and work efficiently.

 

A memoir is so much more than spinning yarns and telling tales.

 

Since there’s some confusion about the genre of memoir, let’s pin down what it is not: Memoir is not journaling. A journal is private—for your eyes only—but you write a memoir for others to read.

 

A memoir is not an autobiography. An autobiography documents your whole life beginning with the day you were born, but a memoir focuses on one segment of your life—(1) a specific theme or (2) a time period, a slice of life.

 

You can write a memoir based on a theme—for example, the theme of working as a seamstress in Asia, or a food vender at Seattle’s T-Mobile Park, or a stepmother to six kids. 

 

Focus on only that theme, leaving out other topics—such as the fact that you might be friends with a famous movie producer, or that you worked at an animal shelter your first year after college.

 

Or you can write a memoir based on a time period. My first memoir, Grandma’s Letters from Africa, covers my first four years in Africa. My second memoir, Please, God, Don’t Make Me Go: A Foot-Dragger's Memoir, focuses on three years in South America.

 

Another person’s time period might be his teenage years, or the years following a spouse’s death, or service in the Peace Corps. We focus only on that slice of our lives and leave out other topics.

 

We include only those details that pertain to our chosen window of time or our memoir’s theme.

 

Personal reflection is a key ingredient in memoir. Remember that. Most of us need to work on understanding what reflection is because, as Richard Foster observes, “The sad truth is that many authors simply have never learned to reflect substantively on anything.”

 

So, memoirists reflect in a deliberate way:

 

You look back,

peel away layers,

excavate,

find the gems.

Dig them out in pieces if you must, 

but dig them out.

Inspect.

Examine those gems,

ponder their deeper meaning.

Spend as much time as you need 

to make sense of what you discover.

Uncover the deeper, higher, wider, richer story.

 

In the past you might have overlooked something of the utmost importance, so make time to search for those profound lessons—insights, healing, blessings—in the events of your life.

 

In the process, you might need to do a “Doggie Head Tilt,” a phrase Michael Metzger coined. “If your head never tilts,” he says, “your mind never changes.” True!

 

In the process of reflecting, answer these questions:

• What new things have I learned about myself because of the key events of my life?
• What new things did I learn about significant people in my life? About God?
• How have these discoveries made me into a different, better person?

 

Not all memoirs include a spiritual dimension.

 

But if you are writing a spiritual memoir, keep this in mind: It does not require that you have exceptional, supernatural religious stories to write about, stories that would make the evening news and get tweeted around the world. Instead, look for ways God was involved in your everyday life.

 

You don’t have to write about God in every chapter. Whether you realized it at the time or not, He was with you, busy working out His good plans for His children—and from time to time in your stories you can spell out what He was doing. And do so in a winsome way, rather than sounding holier-than-thou.

 

Jesus said,

“Go tell your family everything God has done for you”

(Luke 8:39).

 

Write your memoirs!

 

When you follow God’s breadcrumb trail and listen for “a deeper sound”

 

When we start writing, we have no idea where our memories and ponderings will take us. 

 

The process of crafting a memoir changes the way we hear.

 

It opens our eyes.

 

It helps us discover a higher, deeper, broader story.

 

And the process of writing changes our hearts.

 

“The written word

preserves what otherwise might be lost

among the impressions that inundate our lives.

Thoughts, insights, and perceptions

constantly threaten to leave us

before we have the opportunity

to grasp their meaning.

Writing can keep technology-driven, fast-paced,

quick-fix, ambiguity-intolerant modern life

from overpowering us—

and give us something palpable upon which to reflect.

 

Reflection slows matters down.

It analyzes what was previously unexamined,

and opens doors to different interpretations

of what was there all along.

Writing, by encouraging reflection,

intensifies life.”

 

(Editors Ben Jacobs and Helena Hjalmarsson,

The Quotable Book Lover)

 

Think back to a time when the unexpected happened, something scary or challenging or disappointing. Or maybe it was downright tragic—heartbreaking, life-changing.

 

One time—only one time, I’m sad to say—when something devastating happened, almost immediately Romans 8:28 came to mind: “And we know that all that happens to us is working for our good if we love God and are fitting into His plans” (The Living Bible).

 

I told myself that ultimately I’d recognize the good God could bring from the tragedy. I told myself to watch God work. I couldn’t imagine what those blessings might be—those lessons, insights, and opportunities to mature, gain wisdom, and grow in faith—so I waited and watched. And sure enough, He did bring beauty from ashes.

 

I wish that every time hardship blindsided me, I’d have watched for the goodness He worked, but I admit I rarely have.

 

Maybe you’ve had the same experience.

 

Not all is lost at such times, though, if we think back and search for those good things God brought. They’re just waiting for us to recognize them.

 

But too often I’ve forgotten to go back and look for the gems He unearthed from my dirt. I feel bad about that.

 

Mike Metzger’s quote has come to mind frequently in the years since I ran across it:

 

“Many churches have forgotten the premium

that the historic Judeo-Christian tradition placed on

remembrance…and recalling the right things.

The ‘great sin’ of the Old Testament was forgetfulness

(at least it is the most recurrent offense).

‘Remember’ is the most frequent command

in the Old Testament.” 

(Clapham Memo, January 19, 2007,

“Back and Forth,” by Mike Metzger; emphasis mine)

 

Because of Mike’s quote, in recent years I’ve made an effort to remember what God has done for me and my family. Doing so requires me to make time to search my memories.

 

By definition, writing a memoir requires us to go back, to uncover—to excavate, unearth, dig, till the soil and sift through it—looking for diamonds and emeralds.

 

In the process, we might need to stand to the side and take a different look: We need to do a “Doggie Head Tilt,” another Mike Metzger quote. He says, “If your head never tilts, your mind never changes.”

 

So, we tilt our heads and

look at that difficulty from another angle.

We rethink what happened, we reevaluate,

and maybe arrive at a different conclusion

than we had come to before.

 

In Psalm 86:17, David prays, “Give me a sign of your goodness.”

That’s what we memoirists are looking for:

Signs of God’s goodness.

Souvenirs, if you will, for us to keep and cherish.

Symbols, proofs of His goodness.

Evidence. Confirmations.

When God comforts us with them, they become gems

for us to share with others.

 

So we find those treasures, those signs of goodness, and we piece them together, like stringing jewels to make a necklace. While we do so, we examine them, we ponder and reflect on them.

 

We ask ourselves:

• What was God doing?
• What lessons was He teaching me?
• What new insights do I now have?
• How did He change my heart?
• How has my life changed as a result?
• What message did He give me to share with others?

 

Yes, indeed, when we start composing a memoir, we have no idea where our memories and ponderings and writings will take us. 

 

The process of writing opens our eyes and changes our hearts. It helps us discover a higher, deeper, broader story.

 

Our job as memoirists

is to set aside time, as long as it takes,

to follow the breadcrumb trail

God has left for us to help us find our way.

 

And then we share our findings with others

who need help navigating their way.

 

In that way,

penning a memoir can be a sacred journey,

even an act of worship.

 

Discover the blessings God has handed you

in the midst of your hard times,

and then write your memoir,

knowing others need the hope

and wisdom and blessings you have to offer.

 

Writing your memoir: Looking for God’s breadcrumb trail

You’ve experienced this: The unexpected happened, something negative or challenging or disappointing. Or maybe it was downright tragic—heartbreaking, life-changing.

One time—only one time, I’m sad to say—when something devastating happened, almost immediately Romans 8:28 came to mind: “And we know that all that happens to us is working for our good if we love God and are fitting into His plans” (Living Bible).

I told myself that ultimately I’d recognize the good He’d bring from the tragedy. I told myself to watch God work. I couldn’t imagine what those blessings might be—those lessons, insights, and opportunities to mature, gain wisdom, and grow in faith—but  I waited and watched. And sure enough, He did bring beauty from ashes.

I wish that every time hardship blindsided me, I’d have watched for the goodness He worked, but I admit I rarely have.

Maybe you’ve had the same experience.

Not all is lost at such times, though, if we think back and search for those good things God brought. They’re just waiting for us to recognize them.

But too often I’ve forgotten to go back and look for the gems He unearthed from my dirt. I feel bad about that.

Mike Metzger’s quote has come to mind frequently in the years since I ran across it:

“Many churches have forgotten the premium

that the historic Judeo-Christian tradition placed on

remembrance…and recalling the right things.

The ‘great sin’ of the Old Testament was forgetfulness

(at least it is the most recurrent offense).

‘Remember’ is the most frequent command

in the Old Testament.” 

(Clapham Memo, January 19, 2007,

“Back and Forth,” by Mike Metzger; emphasis mine)

Because of Mike’s quote, in recent years I’ve made an effort to remember what God has done for me and my family. Doing so requires me to set aside time to search my memories.

By definition, writing a memoir requires us to go back, to uncover—to excavate, unearth, dig, till the soil and sift through it—looking for diamonds and emeralds.

In Psalm 86:17, David prays, “Give me a sign of your goodness.” That’s what we’re looking for: Signs of God’s goodness.

“Tokens for good,” Amy Carmichael calls those signs, based on an old translation of the Bible. 

“Look out for them and you shall find them,” Amy continues. “Some will be little private tokens, something just between you and your Lord. Some will be things that you can share with others for their cheer. The great thing is not to miss them in the press of life, for often, very often, by these tokens for good our Lord helps us and comforts us.” (Edges of His Ways, July 12 selection)

So we memoirists find those treasures, those signs of goodness, and we piece them together, like stringing jewels to make a necklace. And while we do so, we examine them, we ponder and reflect on them.

In the process, we might need to stand to the side and take a different look: We need to do a “Doggie Head Tilt,” another Mike Metzger quote. He says, “If your head never tilts, your mind never changes.”

So, we tilt our heads and look at that difficulty from another angle. We rethink what happened, we reevaluate, and maybe arrive at a different conclusion than we had come to before.

We ask ourselves, What was God doing? What lessons was He teaching me? What new insights do I now have? How has my life changed as a result? What message did He give me to share with others?

Perhaps you’ve discovered this: When we start composing a memoir, we have no idea where our memories and ponderings and writings will take us. 

The process of writing opens our eyes and changes our hearts. It helps us discover a bigger, higher, deeper, broader story.

“The written word preserves

what otherwise might be lost

among the impressions that inundate our lives.

Thoughts, insights, and perceptions

constantly threaten to leave us

before we have the opportunity to grasp their meaning.

Writing can … give us something palpable upon which to reflect.

Reflection slows matters down.

It analyzes what was previously unexamined,

and opens doors to different interpretations

of what was there all along.

Writing, by encouraging reflection, intensifies life.”

(Editors Ben Jacobs and Helena Hjalmarsson, The Quotable Book Lover)

Our job as memoirists

is to set aside time, as long as it takes,

to follow the breadcrumb trail

God has left for us to help us find our way.

We pick up those “tokens of good”

and cherish them,

and then we do what Amy Carmichael said

in her old-fashioned way:

we “share them with others for their cheer.”

In that way,

penning a memoir can be a sacred journey,

even an act of worship.

Discover the blessings God has handed you

in the midst of your hard times,

and then write your memoir,

knowing others need the “cheer” you have to offer.

What is a memoir: Back to basics

Sometimes in the midst of writing our memoirs, we need to remind ourselves what a memoir is. This helps us focus correctly and work efficiently.

A memoir is so much more than spinning yarns and telling tales.

Since there’s some confusion about the genre of memoir, let’s pin down what it is not: Memoir is not journaling. A journal is private—for your eyes only—but you write a memoir for others to read.

A memoir is not an autobiography. An autobiography documents your life beginning with the day you were born, but a memoir focuses on one segment of your life—(1) a specific theme or (2) a time period, a slice of life.

We can write a memoir based on a theme—for example, the theme of working as a seamstress in Asia, or a food vender at Seattle’s Safeco Field, or a step-mother to six kids.  We focus on only that theme, leaving out other topics—such as the fact that we might be friends with Ben Zobrist (World Series MVP, in case you missed that last night) or met our future spouse at the local animal shelter.

Or we can write a memoir based on a time period. My memoir, Grandma’s Letters from Africa, covers a time period—my first four years in Africa. Another person’s time period might be his teenage years, the years following a spouse’s death, or service in the Peace Corps. We focus only on that slice of our lives and leave out other topics.

We include only those details that pertain to our chosen window of time or our memoir’s theme.

Personal reflection is a key ingredient in memoir. Remember that. Most of us need to work on understanding what reflection is because, as Richard Foster observes, “The sad truth is that many authors simply have never learned to reflect substantively on anything.”

So, memoirists reflect in a deliberate way:

We look back,

peel away layers,

excavate,

find the gems.

We dig them out in pieces if we must, but we dig them out.

We inspect,

examine those gems,

and ponder their deeper meaning.

We look for God’s fingerprints all over everything. 

We spend as much time as we need to make sense of what we discover.

We uncover the deeper, higher, wider, richer story.

In the past, we might have overlooked something of the utmost importance, so we make time to search for those profound lessons—insights, healing, blessings—that God inserted into the events of our lives.

In the process, we might need to do a “Doggie Head Tilt,” a phrase Michael Metzger coined. “If your head never tilts,” he says, “your mind never changes.” True!

Within reflecting, we answer these questions:

• What new things have I learned about myself as a result of the key events of my life?
• What new things did I learn about God? About significant people in my life?
• How have these discoveries made me into a different, better person?

Writing a spiritual memoir does not require that we have supernatural religious stories to write about, stories that would make the evening news and get tweeted around the world. Instead, we look for ways God was involved in our everyday lives.

We don’t have to write about God in every chapter of our memoirs. Whether we realized it at the time or not, He was with us, busy working out His good plans for His children—and from time to time in our stories we can spell out what He was doing. And let’s do so in a winsome way, rather than sounding holier-than-thou.

Jesus said,

“Go tell your family everything God has done for you”

(Luke 8:39).

That’s why we write our memoirs!