If Only One…
I learned recently that I say something (often) that, it turns out, the writing world considers not only a cliché, but an annoying one at that.
This enlightenment led me to two immediate thoughts: First, it clearly illuminated how little I actually know about the writing world. Fair enough. But then it also made me want to raise my hand and say, “But, wait! I can explain! I say it because I mean it. That doesn’t count as cliché, does it?” I don’t know if I want to know the answer to that, but I do know that I think when something comes from a genuine place, it hits differently than a cliché does. I also think people are smart enough to recognize the difference.
This thing I say that maybe I’m not “supposed to” say? If you’ve spent much time around here at all, then I bet you’ve heard me say it:
“If something I write helps just ONE person – then that’s enough for me.”
Evidently if I hope to have my writing taken seriously, some say I need to think “bigger.” That I should believe my words matter enough to impact many people – not “just” one.
I also learned that apparently we writers often say the “just one person” thing as some sort of safety net: A built-in excuse to protect ourselves from disappointment. Claiming a goal as conservative as “just one person” makes the risk we really take when we put ourselves and our words out into the world feel a little less risky.
Hearing it discussed that way, I admit I can understand the aversion more seasoned writers might feel to new writers making this statement. It did make me think: Do I devalue the potential importance of what I have to say when I aim as “low” as “just one person”? Worse yet, do I say that to minimize the risk of rejection? That thought gave me the most pause as I reflected on my motives.
I have known very keenly the disappointment of failure and rejection throughout my life. That has, at times, most certainly led me to avoid taking chances that could result in that same feeling again.
When I say, “throughout my life,” I mean my whole life.
From trying out for youth cheerleading and not making the squad. To not only never being voted… anything… in high school, but to also experiencing the opposite of popularity. I never quite exactly fit anywhere, and I will never forget having been taunted, called names, and sometimes even threatened because of it. I remember multiple times in adulthood when I applied for jobs I didn’t get, even though I knew I would have given them my all and done them well. Maybe worst of all, I have also learned how it feels to have given all I could in relationships, only to find myself obviously expendable when I became the one who could have used a little support. If I never feel any of those ways again, it’ll suit me just fine.
So believe me, I did think about whether I’m running from that. I’m not. Kind of ironically though, thinking about it so deeply made a funny thing happen: I grew more convicted than ever that, when I say that helping even one other person is enough for me – I really mean it.
We so rarely know the whole story when it comes to the lives of the people around us.
Sometimes not even the ones closest to us – let alone the ones with whom we share more distant connections. My commitment to writing about Real Life matters so much to me because so much of Real Life is hard, messy, and full of stuff we don’t always talk about. For instance, until just now, you likely had no idea that I had ever dealt with any of the difficult experiences I just mentioned. What if learning those things about me somehow lands with some part of your Real Life? One that maybe you thought nobody else could understand? Maybe it helps you feel a little less alone - which I know, from experience, is often the easiest and yet the worst way to feel…
I never know who will read what I write, nor what they might get from it.
Take last week, when I published a piece about my daughter’s birthday. Here’s how that happened: We had celebrated her birthday two-days early, on a Friday. We took a family photo that I ended up really liking. I wanted to share it to acknowledge her birthday, but I also knew that no “caption” could do it honest, Real-Life justice. I started typing in the notes on my phone, gradually crafting a definitely too-long social media caption, and that still just didn’t quite do it. I eventually just abandoned the idea altogether. Until I woke up (just done sleeping) at 5:30 AM on Sunday, her birthday, knowing I had a story I wanted to tell.
I wanted to tell the story behind that photo for a couple of reasons: Mainly, because I never wanted to forget it myself. But also, to have shared the photo without telling it would have felt grossly inauthentic. I could have written a nice caption, tagged everyone, posted it, and let people believe my life is as squared away as that photo might have made it appear. At one time I would have. But now? I think the world has more than enough of that kind of stuff, and I believe it often does more harm than good.
Annie F. Downs said, “If we are deciding whether our life is OK by looking at someone else’s life, it is always going to come up wanting.” I believe her. Especially when so much of what we see about others’ lives is… well… not necessarily even real. I think we need more real.
I wonder: If we knew each other’s whole stories, might we realize that we have way more in common than we think?
That’s all I intended to do that day: Share true words about my daughter’s birthday. A keepsake, in writing, of the memory of our chaotic, messy little celebration. More importantly, a message to her about how much her birthdays mean to me. If the real story also made some readers chuckle? All the better. Afterall, those types of stories – the crazy, Real-Life ones that I told for so many years as way-too-long Facebook posts - were exactly what caused people to encourage me to write. Now that I have this space to do exactly that, I often get serious and go kind of deep. But I definitely remember the kind of stories that the people who have supported me the longest first enjoyed.
So, fueled by a few cups of coffee early on a Sunday morning, I pounded out that off-the-cuff blog post; start to finish in one sitting. In my pj’s, under a cozy blanket. I couldn’t have known that, within an hour of hitting “publish,” I’d begin receiving some of the most meaningful responses I’ve ever received to something I’ve written.
Somehow, THAT post landed right where – and when – some others needed it most.
In one of those responses, the sender opened by confessing feeling silly to compare our situations, because on the surface, they look quite different. Nevertheless, one specific part of the story I’d shared had resonated on a deeper level, proving that as different as we and our lives might look – our hearts still feel the same things.
“It’s not silly to compare, because just because one person’s struggle looks different from another’s, it doesn’t mean that either is any less valid.” I sent those words off in response, meaning every word.
How amazing that something I’d said in THAT post had hit someone else that deeply!
Shortly thereafter, I received another very similar message. Somehow, another part of that goofy, hastily written story turned out to be exactly what someone else needed to hear, at exactly the right moment.
I don’t take it lightly when people tell me things like, “God knew I needed to read that right now,” which is exactly what the second person who reached out said.
I more than don’t take it lightly: I find it completely, almost frighteningly, humbling.
God has everything covered quite perfectly on His own. To think that He could use even imperfect me (who manages to mess something up every single day) to touch even one other person in a way that makes them sure it was Him?
I respectfully refuse to consider that “not enough.”
That brings full-circle the message I want to share with you today: I’ve spent more time in my life than I wish I had allowing the world around me to decide what I’m “too much” or “not enough” of. We always have a choice in how we respond to anything: Rejection, hurt, fear, anger. I take full ownership of the times when I have responded to all these things in ways that, given the chance to do over again today, I would change. We rarely get do-overs in this life, though, do we? We do, however, get the chance - every single day - to decide that starting today, we will choose differently from now on.
What if God made each of us exactly the way He did on purpose? What if He’s allowed the things He has in our lives to train our hearts to help Him touch even one other person? I believe He has, and that we can: You. Me. Each one of us who knows the beauty of choosing to believe who He says we are.
I have a vision of what I want to write someday.
Please make no mistake about it: I want to hold a book bearing my name on its cover. If you don’t believe me when I say so, maybe you would if you’d seen me watch Julie and Julia a couple of weeks ago. I choked back ugly sobs in the scenes where they each first held their books! I feel that because of how much I want that.
As my vision becomes clearer, I can see a few of the thoughts I’ve touched on here today expanding to become chapters in the book that, God willing, I’ll get to do the work and write someday. I want to leave it for my children and others I love. Maybe to help them understand me a little better. Mostly, to help them feel less alone when they face struggles they can’t imagine anyone else would understand.
Writing a book is a tall order, though. I live a very Real Life, full of commitments, responsibilities, and more distractions than I can shake my pen at. It takes discipline and time (for which I, quite honestly, must often claw) to even sit down long enough to write here each week. Let alone a manuscript. But for now? This just really is enough:
When YOU – even if only YOU - tell me that some little thing I have said here matters to you? THAT is ENOUGH.
…Speaking of that very full Real Life I live: I started writing this piece eight days ago. In the meantime, I’ve also spent at least four of those days puppy sitting, while also elbow-deep in a DIY project completely renovating my dining room. Then there has still been work, a house, laundry, people who expect to eat every day… all those things. I’ve plugged away at writing with each spare minute I could find. Interestingly, it was exactly seven-days ago when I used my phone to snap a photo of the key scripture that struck me as I thought of writing this.
By the time I tuned in to Crosspoint’s online service this past Sunday, I’d carried around that photo on my phone, and the idea of this story in my heart and my head for five-days. Would you believe me if I told you that, mid service, my mouth fell open when I heard pastor Kevin Queen begin to quote that exact scripture? Galatians 6:4-10. I hope you do believe me - because it’s true. I grabbed my phone and texted my mom, who replied, “Wow! It’s not coincidence!”
Maybe you recall that I recently spoke of a very similar experience in The Space Between. I feel naturally inclined to incredulously ask, “How can this keep happening? How can God keep providing me with these amazing little encouragements to just keep going?” I could ask that, but I already know the answer: He has always wanted to guide me that way toward what He has for me. I just had to get out of my own way before I could see it.
Now that I do see it, how could I not share it? To try and help others learn to see it, too.
Even if “only” one other, then that’s enough for me. Especially if that one is you.
4 Each one should test their own actions. Then they can take pride in themselves alone, without comparing themselves to someone else, 5 for each one should carry their own load. 6 Nevertheless, the one who receives instruction in the word should share all good things with their instructor.
7 Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. 8 Whoever sows to please their flesh, from the flesh will reap destruction; whoever sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life. 9 Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. 10 Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers.
Galatians 6:4-10 NIV