Category: What I’m Learning

I have a dream of one day writing fiction. There are stories bopping around in my head, many of them with great and captivating characters. In my reading experience, a great character can make up for a great number of writing flaws, but even the most creative and descriptive authors will fall flat for me if their characters aren’t captivating.

The problem, though, is that I still need a point to my stories. Just developing a character does not drive fiction. A good character is critical, but without a story, there is nothing to carry the character. And, while I have great characters and good story starters in my head, I seem to lack an overarching plot that will engage a reader through to the end.

So, I haven’t bothered to start writing that fiction.

In all honesty, it’s more comfortable in this spot of not writing. But, I also have to admit that two things are highly challenging this position of inactivity. The first one is my children. Often as they discuss the stories they are writing, they make comments like, “Guess what I discovered today? That character is a red-head! So many things about her make more sense now!” Or they’ll talk about something unexpected happening or someone doing something funny. They talk as if they’re reading stories, not writing them. As if they are watching the stories come into being, not creating them.

And my kids aren’t alone in this. I’ve seen similar comments from other authors—published authors—talking about their characters or stories surprising them with unexpected actions or events.

It baffles my mind, and yet I remember reading something about Michelangelo saying that his sculpture work was simply an act of releasing a masterpiece already there in the stone, just waiting to be exposed. It’s not a new concept for artists to feel as if they are revealing rather than creating. And maybe they are. Maybe God Himself has the designs, the stories, the beauty already there, just waiting to be exposed by those with the talent to do so.

Of course, that idea doesn’t help encourage me to write those stories because I fear that I will not have the talent to reveal anything. My husband and children are so much more creative than I am. So, I should leave it to them, right?

Except that I told you there were two challenges. And the second comes from within me.

You see, this post was not the one I originally sat down to write. I had a different thought that I wanted to write out. But, I felt like it needed an introduction. In the process of writing the introduction, a whole new thought filled my mind, and it turned into its own blog post. Then that, in turn, led to this thought. In order to not lose the first two thoughts, I made notes for this one, then went back and worked on the other two. At this point, I don’t even remember what those original two thoughts were or what blog posts they produced, as it’s taken me a while to come back and flesh out this thought (fear, perhaps?). But the point is that the extra ideas didn’t come from just thinking about the original topic. They came from acting on the thought.

I had a thought. I started writing it out. And more thoughts followed, one after another, seeming to come from nowhere.

I’m good at pondering. And pondering is important. It’s where ideas come from, and those ideas spur growth. But, pondering itself doesn’t actually produce growth. Acting on those ponderings is the only thing that will help me grow. Create. Reveal. Action is what really turns a thought into something real. Action is what turns that one thought into another and another until we are not creating, we’re discovering.

My wonderful husband pointed out to me recently that maybe I need to stop learning about writing and just start writing. And he’s right, as usual. The stories, the thoughts, the ideas are all in there somewhere. But they serve no purpose closed up inside my head. Only once I take a step and start writing will they start revealing themselves.

And you know something? Maybe if I think of myself as being God’s tool for revealing beauty rather than responsible for creating it, I just might be capable after all.

A year or so ago, a friend of mine asked a question on Facebook about establishing a non-fiction reading habit. As I pondered her question I was, first and foremost, encouraged by her admission. She’s one of those people I rank very high on the “smart preacher’s wife” list—but here she was struggling with non-narrative reading just like I always have! I’d always felt “less-than” on the intelligence scale because of my struggle with non-fiction. It was encouraging to see that even smart people sometimes struggle with non-fiction.

Secondly, her question opened my eyes to the fact that I have actually achieved a long-desired turning point in my own reading habit. I have gone from struggling greatly with non-narrative reading to establishing a needed habit of it to truly enjoying it! For the first time in my life, I look with excitement on my growing list of non-fiction titles instead of feeling overwhelmed. How exactly did I get there?

More Than Fiction vs. Non-Fiction: Starting with My Strengths

Fiction lovers often talk about preferring our novels over our non-fiction. But there are more distinctions than simply fiction and non-fiction. It’s not so much that I prefer fiction. It’s that I prefer story. I love Corrie Ten Boom’s The Hiding Place just as much as From Dust and Ashes by Tricia Goyer, my long-time favorite World War II novel. One is non-fiction, the other fiction created from memories of men who lived it. But both are stories. Narratives that bring history to life.

Recognizing that reality helped me take my preference and pick out non-fiction authors who paint word pictures. Even if they don’t tell stories in purely narrative form the same way The Hiding Place does, they do bring words to life, turning them into images that explode in my visual mind, helping me grasp abstract concepts.

The biggest challenge was that the recommended “greats” of Christian literature don’t always write like that. I had to realize that there was no failure in going with my strengths. I was still challenging myself by breaking out of my fiction restriction and moving to story-telling, non-fiction writers. As long as I was challenging myself, I was not failing, no matter what authors I was “ignoring” at the time.

My goal was to read for a set amount of time each morning, so I chose books that fit well with my morning devotional time. I never dreamed what kind of doors that new habit would open!

Going with a Theme

As I became more comfortable with non-fiction, I began to branch out by choosing books based on current themes rather than writing style. I’d read books by word-picture artists like Mark Buchanan and Ken Shigematsu that greatly challenged my approach (or lack thereof) to rest and Sabbath. So, I began to intermingle other books on the same theme. Although not all of these were by authors who were great at painting word pictures, the familiar themes helped me make connections. I could take the new information and convert it myself into imagery that worked well for my method of learning.

These themes have morphed and adjusted over the years. Sometimes while working through one theme, I “accidentally” pick up on a new one, and that directs me to my next book. Some of those directions have led me to books that are very much outside of my natural inclinations and reading styles. Reading those books, especially when first starting, can be a challenge. But, the more I read, the more I get used to different writing styles and am able to better and more quickly process the information before me.

The growth didn’t stop there. Once I’d firmly established the devotional non-fiction reading habit, I added a second book each morning. This one is not always “spiritual.” Not automatically written by a Christian author. But, it always contains something that will help me become a better…something. Strengthen who I am as a wife, a mom, a writer, a homeschooler, an organizer…you get the idea. But, because I read it at the end of my morning quiet time, I always approach it with the perspective of what I have just finished studying in God’s Word and reading from my spiritually nourishing non-fiction.

Voila! A Habit is Born!

I didn’t intentionally follow these steps. I just wanted to start reading non-fiction. And, honestly, I didn’t really realize what I’d accomplished until I saw that question on Facebook. I stand now in amazement, though, as I realize just how one little action—the decision to read a non-fiction book for five minutes every morning—has helped me grow so greatly.

Small actions can produce powerful habits. What small action can you take today?

Several years ago, I taught myself how to knit. That seems like such a simple statement to encompass the full victory of this process. You see, many, many, many years before, some friends had tried to teach me to knit. They loved knitting and couldn’t imagine not knowing how to do it. I could crochet. Why not knit.

But I couldn’t. Two needles covered in loops that you maneuvered in a variety of ways just did not compute in my mind. So, I’d sit with my single little crochet hook and they would sit with their knitting needles, and we’d have a grand ole time.

It was a failure I never could shake, though, because so many beautiful patterns called for knitting. My favorite patterns, in fact. Oh, the crochet patterns were pretty. Don’t get me wrong. But there was something about the style of knit that I longed to be able to accomplish.

So, finally, as an adult, I decided to give it another try. And somehow, this time, I succeeded. Perhaps it was the teaching method. Perhaps it was that I saw the diagrams in a book instead of simply trying to mimic the style of someone else. Perhaps it was the patience that I’d learned in the two plus decades since my first attempt. Maybe it was simply a true desire. Back then, my friends wanted me to learn. This time, I wanted to learn. Makes a difference!

Whatever the case, I succeeded. I didn’t become phenomenal or grasp intricate patterns quickly. But, I did learn.

I don’t knit constantly, or even daily. It’s an occasional burst here and there, dropped for a time when a project demands more attention than I can give it. When a day comes along that allows me to give the project extra attention, I get it back to a point of being easy enough to pick up for ten minutes here or thirty minutes there. Then I can keep it going during a work meeting (when my involvement is more about listening than actively engaging) or school with the kids (when we are discussing a book together).

By necessity, most of my projects remain simple, although I do enjoy challenging myself with a new stitch here or a new design there. I like to create projects that allow me to merge the simple with the complex, though, so I’m frequently learning new techniques but also have something that’s easy to pick up and do without a whole lot of need to watch a pattern.

Because of this desire to challenge my skills, I have needed certain tools. Various sizes and styles of needles. Place markers and counters. Cable hooks. I keep it all on the inexpensive end because I’m not enough of an enthusiast to spend a lot of money on the hobby. But, even those inexpensive tools give me a chance to experiment and learn.

At one point, I picked up a little plastic case full of knitting tools. I’d chosen this kit because it had several marker options and a couple of counters. But when I opened it, I also saw a wide variety of other tools. Tools I had never seen before. I had no idea what they were called (again, inexpensive set…no labels) or how to find out. As time has passed, I’ve learned about a couple of them, but there are still several that leave me baffled.

But they also inspire me. They make me want to learn more about knitting. Figure out new skills. Try new challenges. Explore new options. Could this be the tool for that fancy stitch? Might that one help me feel a little more coordinated with cable knitting? Or enable a more elaborate cable? The tools motivate my curiosity and nudge my desire to learn. Well, most of the time, at least.
Here’s the deal: sometimes these unknown tools scare me a bit. They remind me of my limitations. They let me know how much I can’t do. And sometimes that is more overwhelming than inspiring.

Do you ever feel that way about your spiritual growth? Do you ever feel like you’re plugging along nicely, only to suddenly get a glimpse of tools, resources, and learning scales that you’ve never even thought of before? Do you ever feel that you will never be able to learn enough? Grow enough? Use resources well enough?

Or are you motivated and inspired to reach for a new goal? Learn a new skill? Climb a higher peak?

I know we will all hit walls that scare us just a bit. We will be overwhelmed by the discovery of just how much we don’t know. But, my prayer for both myself and for you, dear reader, is that those moments aren’t what define us. My prayer is that the more common response of our heart is to be inspired. To be motivated. To desire to learn how to tackle that new skill. To use that new resource. To climb to that next level.

To not be defined by fear, but to be motivated by inspiration.

Image by Tammy McLean from Pixabay

Don’t you just love how God can teach lessons during every season of life?

This season of not having a personal writing rhythm has lasted much longer than I would have chosen. Even when it seemed like I was writing regularly, I wasn’t. It was hit and miss. In fact, it has been several years since I have had a good rhythm. And for the longest time, I have seen that only as a negative thing. I’ve wondered why God has not helped me find a rhythm for something that obviously nourishes and grows me.

But here’s the thing…God doesn’t see things like I do. Or maybe it’s the other way around. I don’t see things the way God does, at least not at first. In fact, so many of my experiences are times of needing to gradually gain His vision. Sometimes I’m slow and He has to delay so that I can catch up. But other times I think it’s just the nature of growth. We often want to learn things quickly, but the more quickly we learn, the less we retain. Slow learning – slow progress in almost anything – usually means much more solid retention and growth.

There’s a quote in George MacDonald’s novel The Landlady’s Master that I love, one I recall when I’m frustrated with slow progress. In an idealogical discussion, one character presents ideas and perspectives that seem dreadfully slow and ineffective to his conversation partner. His response concludes with, “All God’s processes are slow. The works of God take time and cannot be rushed.”

That has definitely been true of my writing journey. It has been extremely slow – excruciatingly so at times. But in the process, and especially in this most recent stretch in which a personal writing rhythm has been so elusive, I have learned at least one very important lesson. To really explain it, I need to back up a few years, back to a time when my writing was regular and I had a solid rhythm.

Every morning, I journaled. Throughout the day I would keep a notebook or planner handy to jot notes. I had a notebook in Evernote strictly devoted to writing ideas. Writing fodder piled up so high that I could not write quickly or frequently enough to utilize it all! But as time went on, I began to notice that the ideas were harder and harder to flesh out. What had been great inspiration when I wrote it down was simply an empty statement by the time I got around to fleshing it out. At first I thought it was because I didn’t flesh out the thoughts quickly enough, losing the essence before I could actually write the post. So, I began to take more thorough notes. But, that often failed as well.

It took me a while to realize that the problem was not with the ideas. The problem was with me.

At one time, I’d written from the outflow of what I was learning and experiencing in life. But, somewhere along the way, that changed. Blog writing became the goal instead of the outflow. Instead of internalizing the inspiration, lessons, and Spirit whispers coming to me throughout life, I was simply writing about them.

Over time, the writing well began to dry up. My journal showed huge gaps because I seemed to have nothing to write, even for my own edification. I had not stopped growing altogether, but my growth was stunted because my focus was distracted.

Slowly but surely, I have had to relearn how to journal for the sake of journaling. How to hash through ideas for the sake of real growth. How to remember that life is not blog fodder. Writing is, instead, an outflow of what I just cannot keep cooped up inside as God molds and transforms my heart.

Looking back at it all, I can see why God has not yet granted the wisdom for a writing rhythm. He’s been slowly working on me. Who knows when I’ll be ready for the next step? I hope it’s soon, but I have a little more patience these days now that I’ve realized it all comes down to God taking His time working on me. Working out His slow processes.