Personal news: I’m a great-grandmother!

 

Our oldest grandchild just gave birth to little T.T., making my husband and me great-grandparents! His birth has been a joyous event for this big family. We’re all celebrating.

 

And once again I am convinced that we—you and I—must share our stories with our families.

 

Tell me: Did you know your great-grandparents? Mine died before I was born.

 

If you never knew your great-grandparents, perhaps, like me, you have many questions—about their personalities, talents, experiences, values.

 

I’m also very curious: Am I shy like one of them? Am I afraid of something that one of them also feared? Is my dry sense of humor like theirs? Do I look like one of them, speak like one of them, think, love, or giggle like one of them? Do I instinctively treasure something one of them also treasured?

 

Maybe, like me, you wonder: If they’d have known me, would they have loved me? Would we have enjoyed each other? What activities would we have done together? What would they have taught me?

 

Did they love and serve God? If so, how did that impact the ways they chose to live?

 

What stories about themselves and their ancestors would they have told me? What adventures did they have, what challenges, what heartaches? What failures, what successes? What obstacles did they overcome?

 

And this is so important: If I had known their stories, what lessons would they have taught me?

• How would I have lived my life differently?
• Would I have avoided certain mistakes?
• Thought differently?
• Sought different goals?
• Chosen a different profession?
• Been a kinder person?
• A better spouse?
• Parented my children differently?
• Had a stronger faith and commitment to God?

There’s a reason Jesus said, “Go, tell your family everything God has done for you” (Luke 8:39). Write your stories for your kids, grandkids, and great-grandkids. It’s the most important job in the world. (Be sure to click on that link.)

 

Include humor, mystery, romance, pets, childhood escapades, teenage pranks, athletic competitions, parenthood, hard work—the list could go on and on.

 

Always examine each account, connect the dots,

and explain what God was doing through them all,

often behind the scenes.

 

If you’re about my age, you realize you might not live on this earth much longer.

 

“We will all die one day. That is one of the few things we can be sure of,” Henri Nouwen wrote.

 

“But will we die well? That is less certain,” Nouwen continued.

 

“Dying well means . . . making our lives fruitful for those we leave behind. The big question . . . is . . . ‘How can I prepare myself for my death so that my life can continue to bear fruit in the generations that will follow me?’ . . . .

 

“Dying can become our greatest gift if we prepare ourselves to die well.” (Henri Nouwen, Bread for the Journey)

 

Prepare yourself for your death

by writing your stories.

 

Teach your kids, grandkids, and great-grands about keeping a commitment, working hard, being kind and honest. 

Teach them about God.

 

Inspire them to handle tragedies with tenacity and faith.

 

Help them choose courage over fear, generosity over stinginess, integrity over cheating, compassion over meanness, thankfulness over ingratitude, and so much more.  

 

 “The world’s greatest wisdom passes through stories,” writes Kathy Edens.

 

Take in what Kathy says:

The world’s greatest wisdom

can flow through your stories!

 

Back to Basics: Make ‘em laugh, make ‘em cry, make ‘em wait

Think back to a time when a story made you cry. What did those tears do to your heart? And your mind? Did you feel a closeness—or at least empathy—toward the author? Did it keep you reading to find out how the story ended?

 

Write your memoir in such a way that makes readers care—about both you and your story.

 

How do you do that? By including sincere emotions.

 

“The heart is always the first target

in telling purposeful stories.

Stories must give listeners [and readers]

an emotional experience. . . .”

(Peter Guber)

 

You bring emotion into your story by following Wilkie Collins’ advice: “Make ‘em cry, make ‘em laugh, make ‘em wait.”

 

Sometimes people wonder why we should make ‘em cry, why we should include emotional stuff surrounding our sorrows and struggles.

 

The reasons to include life’s hard things are many.

 

First, in the process of writing about them, we can find some healing for ourselves. We can look back and recognize:

 

• Often during the worst of times, we learned our most important lessons.
• Difficulties get our attention and give us a holy discontent with things that are not right in our lives.
• Afflictions can be the stuff of turning points and second chances.
• They can make us cling to God.
• They can lead to personal victories.

 

If we resist writing about our heartaches and wounds, it could be that we’re refusing to deal with them.

 

Mick Silva at Higher Purpose Writers addresses that by quoting Adam McHugh:

 

“We are unable to get to the good that God works

because we cannot face the bad that life brings.”

Mick goes on to write, “That's the exact trouble I see so often editing Christian writers—their books are full of characters and situations that attempt to jump over the struggle and pain of life to apply scripture or platitudes and resolve readers’ angst.

“Christians are trained in many churches,” Mick says, “to habitually deny the true emotion and sadness we feel, and many think we're supposed to ‘claim the promises’ and slap a shiny ‘VICTORY’ sticker on. . . .”

Mick advises us to admit how bad things were in our devastating situation because “just accepting that makes it far better than we tend to realize.”

Acknowledging a bad experience opens a door,

inviting us to move toward the deep healing God offers

so we can move forward in life.

Here's the second reason for writing about your painful stuff: Second Corinthians 1:3-4 tell us God the Father comforts us in all our heartaches and afflictions so that in turn we can share the same comfort with others who are also going through difficulties. 

And so, Henri Nouwen is correct:

 

“Our sufferings and pains

are not simply bothersome interruptions

of our lives.”

 

You see, sharing our hardships can benefit readers. When we make ourselves vulnerable and share our agonizing experiences, readers recognize they have something in common with us.

 

Eileen Vorbach Collins writes about the angst she endured in trying to process her child’s suicide and then writing a memoir about it. “How can I be happy to be publishing a book that I wish I could not have written? Writing . . . was sometimes excruciating. Why couldn’t I put it behind me? Why couldn’t I move on?

 

“To write about grief, especially the suicide of a child, feels risky. The stigma is real. Will readers judge me? After all, what . . . kind of mother could I be? My child took her life and I’m capitalizing on it . . . by writing a book. . . .”

 

But then Eileen turned a corner because she realized other people need to know her story:

 

“I can only tell you that when newly bereaved,

I wanted nothing more than to read authentic stories 

by real people

who had survived the most terrible loss imaginable.

Stories that would show me

it was possible to find a place of bearable sorrow.

I hope my stories will do that for someone else.”

 

Eileen’s talking about turning her sorrows into blessings for others. She didn’t want her devastation to be wasted.

 

God can use you to bless others

so your suffering won’t be wasted.

 

Think about what Peter Guber says here:

“. . . Stories can be a stand-in for life,

allowing [us readers] to expand beyond what we could reasonably

squeeze into a lifetime of direct experience. . . .

We can take in the stories of others

who escaped life-threatening situations

without taking on the risk . . .

[and we have] an opportunity to try out solutions.” 

(Peter Guber)

 

When, by sharing our stories, we comfort others with the comfort God has given us, we offer readers experience, healing, wisdom, and choices.

 

“You are a bringer of meaning,” writes Joe Bunting.

 

“Your story should incorporate some joy,” Bunting says. “But pain is the Great Teacher.

 

“By bringing meaning to the pain, you bring meaning to the pain of the world. This is why people need story. They want to know they’re not alone. Others suffer just like them.

 

“They want to know their suffering has a purpose, that there is hope, redemption. . . .

 

“You think you’re just telling a story. But the truth is, you’re bringing life.” (Joe Bunting, The Meaning of Pain)

 

Things that caused you to weep and despair gave you a story to tell for the benefit of others.

 

If you want readers to see

how God brought beauty from your ashes,

they have to see, smell, hear, taste, and feel the ashes with you.

You have to make ‘em cry with you.

 

If you write your memoir well,

you will bring the story to a hope-filled, satisfying resolution.

You will accomplish what Joe Bunting calls “bringing life.”

 

Back to Basics: Connecting the dots of your life

 

If you’re a newcomer here at SM 101, you’ll soon recognize that I urge memoirists to connect their dots. Among other benefits, connecting your dots will help you with your story arc. (If you missed recent posts on your story arc, click on Your memoir’s all-important story arc as well as Your memoir’s middle and end. And don’t miss Is your story arc eluding you?)

 

Connecting your dots is also important for you personally.

 

Because, you see, your memoir is a gift not only to readers,

but especially to yourself: 

In writing, you can look back,

connect the dots,

follow the bread crumbs,

and realize

—maybe as never before—

that God has pointed you toward destinations

He planned especially for you—

good places,

even if they didn’t look good at the time.

 

Perhaps you’ll find yourself in Henri Nouwen’s words: “In every critical event, there is an opportunity for God to act creatively and reveal a deeper truth than what we see on the surface of things. God can also turn around critical incidents and seemingly hopeless situations in our lives and reveal light in darkness.” (Discernment)

 

By “connect your dots,” I mean this: Search for the ways God was involved in arranging the key events of your life, and then identify the ways He strings them together—how He “connects the dots.”

 

First, identify your dots:

 

• interruptions that popped into your life,
• disappointments, roadblocks,
• surprises (good and not-so-good),
• where you chose to get your education,
• jobs you took,
• people you met (including your future spouse),
• houses you bought,
• setbacks,
• failures,
• the birth of your children,
• the death of a significant person,
• a conversation with a stranger,
• an accident or illness that changed your life,
• major decisions you had to make,
• meeting the person who’d become your best friend,
• and everything having to do with your faith in God.

 

Look back—take as long as you need. Identify your dots, your turning points, those pivotal moments.

 

Once you’ve done that, string your dots together. What do they all mean in relation to each other?

 

What was God doing over the years to point you in the right direction? How did He use one “dot” to prepare you for the next “dot”? And then the next one? And what did He do to bring you to where you are today?

 

In her Bible study, Esther, Beth Moore writes, “If we could only see what is  happening around us in the unseen realm, our eyes would nearly pop out of socket. . . . So much that would thrill us lies beyond our sight. . . .” How exciting is that?!

 

That’s why memoirists must invest time in retrospection, make an effort to dig deeply into the past, connect the dots, string them together, and make sense of what happened in the past. Recognize how you became the person you are today.

 

Yes, that’s a lot of work—but, oh! The treasures you’ll discover!

 

String together all the ways God has been working out His good plans for your life.

 

“He’s weaving pieces together

that will tell of His faithfulness

when generations to come read the pages of your life.”

Kaitlyn Bouchillon

 

“Never believe that the so-called random events of life

are anything less than God’s appointed order.

Be ready to discover His divine designs

anywhere and everywhere.”

(Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest)

Unveiling painful truths and moving to the other side of pain

 

“Unveiling all the painful truths [in my memoir] would expose my children,” wrote memoirist Kathleen Pooler, “and I constantly asked myself:

• Do I have the right to do that?
• Will it be worth it?
• Will it affect our relationship as adults?

 

“I knew I could not publish this story without the full cooperation of both my children.”

 

And Kathy’s kids, bless their hearts, did give their mother their full cooperation.

 

“The answers to those questions,” continued Kathy, “all came in due time as the years passed and distance helped us all sort through the many layers of feelings. . . .

 

“This may be my story but it is also their story. . . . I think of my memoir as a love letter to them.”

 

Read that again: “I think of my memoir as a love letter to them.”

 

Can you, like Kathy,

write your memoir as a love letter

to your family and friends?

And even strangers?

Think about that.

Kathy admitted writing was painful and from that, she offers you this hope:

“When I first started writing out my stories, facing painful memories was difficult.

“As I kept writing, new insights revealed themselves to me 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.”

Perhaps a similar experience happened to Henri Houwen, who wrote, “Often we discover the joy in the midst of sorrow.

“I remember the most painful times of my life” he said, “at times in which I became aware of a spiritual reality much larger than myself, a reality that allowed me to live the pain with hope. 

“I dare even to say: ‘My grief was the place where I found my joy.’”

 

Have you, too, discovered joy in the midst of your sorrow?

Has God helped you live with pain and hope

at the same time?

 

Perhaps you, like Henri Nouwen, can say,

“My grief was the place where I found my joy.”

(Henri Nouwen, Here and Now)

 

 

Kathy and Henri remind me of this Elisabeth Elliot quote:

 

“When you’re in a dark place, you sometimes tend to think you’ve been buried. Perhaps you’ve been planted. Bloom.”

Henri bloomed!

 

Kathy bloomed! And you’ll be inspired to bloom by reading her second memoir, Just the Way He Walked: A Mother’s Story of Hope and Healing.

Make time to think about Henri's words, 

and Kathy's words, 

and then write your stories. 

Someone needs to know them. 

Someone needs to grab hold of the hope you can offer.

When remembering troubles our hearts

 

By now you recognize how important remembering is when writing a memoir.

 

Reflecting—examining the past, discovering deeper significance than you recognized at the time.

 

Remembering and analyzing and piecing together can bring deep healing—and might even change the direction of our lives.

 

Reflecting on what God has done for us and through us can be life-changing.

 

Sometimes, however, our introspection

leads to painful memories, regrets, shame.

 

Our hearts become troubled.

 

You know what a troubled heart feels like.

So do I.

Sometimes it hurts for a long, long time.

 

And yet, Jesus said, “Don't let your hearts be troubled” (John 14:1).

Lloyd Ogilvie offers us this consolation and hope: “We have a place to go with our troubled hearts—the heart of God.”

God’s heart is “a place of reconciliation, forgiveness, and acceptance. . . . We were created to abide in His heart of love. . . . An intimate communion awaits us where we can unburden all our troubles and receive strength.” (Lloyd Ogilvie, Silent Strength for My Life)

 

Take in Henri Nouwen’s words: “We are people with souls, sparks of the divine. To acknowledge the truth about ourselves is to claim the sacredness of our being, without fully understanding it.” Nouwen says we must “trust that our souls are embraced by a loving God.” (Bread for the Journey)

 

Nouwen continues:

 

“Solitude, silence, and prayer . . .

offer solutions

for the complexity of our lives . . .

because they bring us in touch with

our sacred center, where God dwells. . . .

It is the place of adoration, thanksgiving, and praise.”

 

May God bring healing to our painful memories

and our troubled hearts,

and may we rejoice in Him

as we dwell in that lovely place in His heart.

 

“The right words in the right order might be worth a thousand pictures”

 

“Words—especially religious words, words that have to do with the depth of things—get tired and stale the way people do,” writes Frederick Buechner. “Find new words or put old words together in combinations that make them heard as new, make you yourself new, and make you understand in new ways.” (From Now and Then; emphasis mine)

 

Think about it: Written words are merely scribbles and scratches on paper or black squiggles on a computer screen.

 

But words pack punch. They have power. Potential.

 

Words inspire, comfort, entertain, make the heart soar, cause laughter or tears. Words can change lives.

 

Words are a memoirist’s most important tools. We must use them with excellence.

 

Use crisp, bright, refreshing words—

 

but avoid ornamental words,

extravagant, snobbish words,

self-important words to impress readers,

elusive words that make your readers get up and find a dictionary.

 

A good thesaurus and dictionary can be a memoirist’s best friend. Computer programs usually have a thesaurus—a minimal one, but one that can help find a better word quickly.

 

“There is something about words. In expert hands, manipulated deftly, they take you prisoner,” writes Diane Setterfield. “Wind them around your limbs like spider silk, and when you are so enthralled you cannot move, they pierce your skin, enter your blood, numb your thoughts. Inside you they work their magic.”

 

James Michener writes, “I love the swirl and swing of words as they tangle with human emotions.”

 

“The right words in the right order might be worth a thousand pictures,” says Roy Peter Clark in How to Write Short.

 

“Words whispered, shouted, and sung.

Words that move, dance,

and change in size and color.

Words that say,

‘Taste me, smell me, eat me, drink me. . . .

The word has the power to create. . . .

When God says,

‘Let there be light’ (Genesis 1:30),

light is. . . .

It is this creative power of the word

we need to reclaim.”

Henri Nouwen, Bread for the Journey;

emphasis mine)

 

Look over your manuscript and replace boring, tired words with words that have zing and pizzazz and melody and texture.

 

“Writing is the painting of the voice.”

Voltaire

 

 

Tuesday Tidbit: We will die one day, and what will we leave behind?

 

“We will all die one day. That is one of the few things we can be sure of,” Henri Nouwen wrote.

 

“But will we die well? That is less certain,” Nouwen continued.

 

“Dying well means . . . making our lives fruitful for those we leave behind. The big question . . . is . . . ‘How can I prepare myself for my death so that my life can continue to bear fruit in the generations that will follow me?’ . . . .

 

“Dying can become our greatest gift if we prepare ourselves to die well.” (Henri Nouwen, Bread for the Journey)

 

Let’s think about what Henri said.

 

If you’re like me, you’re concerned about influences on your kids, grandkids, and great-grands—influences that lure them away from your best hopes and dreams and prayers for them. Away from God’s best for them.

 

Less-than-stellar influencers bombard young people, enticing them to live and believe in ways that could diminish them morally, spiritually, personally, mentally, and relationally.

 

Today’s kids are listening to the stories of movie stars, athletes, singers, podcasters, comedians, the press, educators, politicians, authors, friends, and paranormal characters in books and movies.

 

If you worry about the stories your kids, grandkids, and great-grands listen to, how about telling them your stories?

 

There’s a good reason the Bible is full of stories. There’s a reason Jesus told parables.

 

Never doubt the power of stories!

 

Kathy Edens writes,

“Research proves that stories and anecdotes

help people retain information better.

Forbes reported most people only remember

about 5-10% of statistics you cite.

But when you accompany your stats with a story,

the retention rate bounces up to 65-70%.”

 

Wow! Did you know that? That’s impressive. Read that again!

 

That means that if you want to teach your grandkids the importance of telling the truth, you can tell them, “It’s important to always tell the truth, and you can get yourself into tons of trouble if you lie,” but your words will probably go in one ear and out the other.

 

OR, you can tell them a story—

a story of how you, or someone you know,

learned the importance of honesty,

and the consequences of dishonesty.

 

Your stories can teach your kids, grandkids, and great-grands many important things—about keeping a commitment, being faithful, working hard, being kind.

 

Your stories can teach them to handle tragedies with tenacity and faith.

 

Your stories can help them choose courage over fear, generosity over stinginess, compassion over meanness, thankfulness over ingratitude, and so much more.  

 

 “The world’s greatest wisdom passes through stories,” writes Kathy Edens.

 

Think about what Kathy says:

The world’s greatest wisdom

can flow through your stories!

 

There’s a good reason Jesus said,

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

(Luke 8:39)

 

Remember what Henri Nouwen said: We need to prepare ourselves so that after we die, our lives, experiences, and faith will continue to bear fruit for future generations.

 

“Dying can become our greatest gift if we prepare ourselves to die well.” (Henri Nouwen, Bread for the Journey)

 

That means you need to tell your stories!

 

There you have it, your Tuesday Tidbit.

  

Tuesday Tidbit: Listen for “a deeper sound, a different beat”

 

Because writing a memoir requires reflection and introspection, the process can change our lives.

 

God can use it to change the way we hear.

 

He can use it to open our eyes and tenderize our hearts.

 

God helps us recognize a higher, deeper, broader story.

 

Henri Nouwen writes, ““When we listen to the Spirit, we hear a deeper sound, a different beat. The great movement of the spiritual life is from a deaf, nonhearing life into a life of listening . . . in which we . . . hear the guiding and healing voice of God, who is with us and will never leave us alone.” (Henri Nouwen, Discernment)

 

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

 

“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-tolerant

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

 

There you have it, your Tuesday Tidbit.

Happy writing!

 

IF YOU’RE AN EMAIL SUBSCRIBER TO THIS BLOG: Take note of changes

 If you receive blog posts of SPIRITUAL MEMOIRS 101 by email because you’ve subscribed as a Follower, please note:

As of July 1, you might not receive any more blog posts. Blogger’s information states that maybe some people will continue to receive them, but their communications and explanations are sketchy at best. 

If you’d like to keep up with SM 101 blog posts—and I hope you do!—you have a couple of options.

• You can follow the Facebook Page for SPIRITUAL MEMOIRS 101. (Click on that link.) I share links to weekly posts there, plus other info throughout the week that’s intriguing or helpful or juicy.
• You can Bookmark the SPIRITUAL MEMOIRS 101 website (and click on it often). Here’s how: Click on HOW TO BOOKMARK A WEBSITE.  

I’m sorry for the inconvenience. Maybe Blogger will offer another way to receive posts by email and if so, I’ll let you know.

In the meantime, please help me 

spread the news about 

Spiritual Memoirs 101.

Why?

Because your stories and mine are important.

Henri Nouwen says, “Writing can . . . be good for others who might read what we write. Quite often a difficult, painful, or frustrating [event] can be ‘redeemed’ by writing about it. . . . Then writing can become lifesaving for us and sometimes for others, too.” 

Nouwen continues, “Each human being is unique. . . and nobody has lived what we have lived. . . . What we have lived, we have lived not just for ourselves but for others as well. Writing can . . . make our lives available . . . to others. We have to trust that our stories deserve to be told.” (Henri Nouwen, Bread for the Journey)

Read more at “Your memoir’s ministry” and at “Sharing your stories you’re your family: The most important job in the world. 

Your memoir’s ministry: “through us, with us, in spite of us”

 

“Writing can be a true spiritual discipline,” writes Henri Nouwen.

 

He highlights one of the core aspects of writing memoirs—the necessity of, and blessing of, introspection and reflection and analysis of what happened in the past.

 

He points out that as we write, “new ideas emerge, ideas that surprise us and lead us to inner places we hardly knew were there.” Nouwen calls those “deep wells of hidden treasures.”

 

“Writing can help us concentrate, to get in touch with the deeper stirrings of our hearts, to clarify our minds, to process confusing emotions, to reflect on our experiences, to give artistic expression to what we are living, and to store significant events in our memories.”

 

“Writing can also be good for others who might read what we write,” Nouwen says. “Quite often a difficult, painful, or frustrating [event] can be ‘redeemed’ by writing about it. . . . Then writing can become lifesaving for us and sometimes for others, too.”

 

Nouwen continues, “Each human being is unique. . . and nobody has lived what we have lived. . . . What we have lived, we have lived not just for ourselves but for others as well. Writing can . . . make our lives available . . . to others. We have to trust that our stories deserve to be told.” (Henri Nouwen, Bread for the Journey)

 

Maybe you doubt what Nouwen claims—maybe you doubt your story can be lifesaving for others.

 

Many would-be memoirists struggle with that.

 

But look at what dear Mick Silva discovered:

 

“For such a long time, I felt my story wasn’t important. . . .

I didn’t know who my story had made me. . . .

But exhuming it, the healing has been profound,

pulling me from ashes of charred memories. . . .

And the things I’ve discovered have been treasures. . . .

Through writing I’ve discovered that . . .

protecting and preserving our stories

is about discovering God’s story.

What he did through us, with us, in spite of us,

continually pursuing that story

is a matter of faithfulness and obedience,

to become aware and invest in this life he’s given.

To speak its life-affirming power in proper words and context,

it can be the delight of our lives,

an endless source of inspiration.”

(Mick Silva, Higher Purpose Writers)

 

“We are storytellers,” writes Carolina Hinojosa-Cisneros. “With the help of God, it is up to us to steward our calling and steward it well.”

 

Believe this: Your story is important. 

Write it!

Make your life and your story available for others.