While today we memorialize those who sacrificed their lives for our country and recall other loved ones who have passed away, I thought this would also be a good day to remember a touchstone writerly memory. I’m going to share a watershed moment in my publishing career and then give each of you an opportunity to add a remembrance of God’s goodness to you as you pursued your writing dreams.
My publishing career began with a bang, literally. I slammed shut the door, cast my eyes up to heaven, and silently proclaimed, God, at the tender age of 21, you have ruined my life.
That was the day I received my assignment as a new staff member of Campus Crusade for Christ (now renamed Cru). When you join Cru, you agree that you’ll go wherever you are assigned. After a summer of Bible training, new staff members received their assignments in envelopes, and we pledged not to talk to anyone but God about our assignment for 24 hours. I became a part of Cru because I wanted to work on a college campus, but that’s not what my envelope contained. Instead, I was assigned to the publications department.
I believed that assignment doomed me to failure. While I had majored in English in college, I had done no writing beyond required essays and some poetry. That didn’t prepare me to write brochures, magazine and newspaper articles, do actual reporting (eek!), or write video scripts.
As I moaned to God about my destroyed life, I realized that I had to raise my support. Surely, if God didn’t want me in the publications department, the support wouldn’t come in, right?
So I headed back to my family’s home in Colorado and worked at finding people who would support my work in the publications department. When I met with individuals, I had quite a spiel about the multiplied effect writing could have for the kingdom as opposed to talking to people about Christ one-to-one.
But I had no confidence I was the person to do that writing. Every night, when I went to bed, I’d tell myself, You are a writer, you are a writer, you are a writer.
When I’d awaken in the morning, my first thought would be, I’m not a writer, I’m just not!
Well, the required amount of support came in; so I trudged off to Cru’s headquarters in Southern California’s San Bernardino Mountains. I received wonderful mentoring from everyone in the department, with the head of the department, Judy Douglass (now wife of Cru’s president who recently stepped aside to pursue other ministry within Cru), always affirming me. (Not that I ever hinted to Judy about my insecurities.) Every time I finished an assignment, I would wait several hours to turn it in because I figured this would be the project that convinced Judy I wasn’t suited to work in publications after all.
But she never intimated that my work was inferior. Instead, I kept getting assignments, and eventually I became more confident that maybe I could write.
Then, one day, as I was tapping out an article, I looked out my office’s window at the eucalyptus trees. But in that moment, I didn’t see the tree grove. Instead, I saw me as a little girl who yearned to achieve two goals: 1) to read all the books in the library (okay, that wasn’t going to happen); and 2) to be a writer. I read voraciously, and I wrote a novel every summer and set my sights on winning a Pulitzer Prize (okay that wasn’t going to happen).
The memory of my childhood longings swept through me, and I wept. I had become such a lost little lamb, I had forgotten what I loved in life–reading and writing. But God knew that he had instilled those loves in me, and he remained faithful to how he created me. He didn’t ruin my life the day I was handed that envelope with my assignment in it; instead he was unfurling for me a lifetime of working with words. That day, God didn’t bestow a curse on me; he bestowed a blessing.
Now, it’s your turn. Tell us about a time God affirmed your call to write and to work toward being published.
TWEETABLE
For Memorial Day, recount a special moment in your writing journey. Click to tweet.
For many many years, although I had wanted to be a photo journalist as a girl, I was too afraid of failing to really try to write. Sure, I had a blast writing as a child and teen and even a bit in college. But my plans to really try to get published were shoved onto the back burner again and again. It was my husband who pulled a brochure for a writing class off the stand at a Safeway in Canada where he was in seminary and I was in Bible college and urged me to pursue my dream. I loved to write, but I have rarely felt called to write like other writers I know. Now, I realize that doing something that you love and that God has given you the drive to pursue is a wonderful thing, but called. I just didn’t know. Then in 2012 through the gift of some friends, I was able to attend the ACFW conference. My husband had suggested that I start a blog for the camp where we live and work. I didn’t have time to start a blog. When would I write it? I barely managed to write the manuscripts for the YA novels that I had yet to sell at 4:00AM because with 3 small boys I was so so busy. We were singing worship music, Our God is Greater, and I felt the call. Despite how crazy the idea was, God wanted me to start a blog for camp. He was asking me to trust and to commit the writing time needed for the blog to Him. I sank to my knees. I sang. I wept. I agreed to start the blog. This year, our blog will be ten years old. I still haven’t gotten those YA novels published, but I have nearly a decade of stories and pictures about camp saved for parents and campers to enjoy. I spend all summer long photographing camp, camp activities, and campers. I share pictures so that camper parents can connect with their child, even from far away. So that when they go home, campers can flip through the stories and photos and share those moments with their parents. I even had a blog post win an award in the Cascade Contest for best non-fiction article, column, or blog. Who would have known that I would get to be a photojournalist after all?
And so you came full-circle back to photojournalism. Those childish instincts sometimes are clues for how to express ourselves as authors. After all, we were attracted to those interest early on, and if they remain, even latent, that says something.
This was so good to read and remember. I think one of the best affirmations of my call to write was September 2019. We’d been in Iceland for little over a year and after getting settled, I was really questioning my role on this island. I’d worked in full-time ministry for 12 years in Alabama but at that time, I was mostly at home with my one year old in our Akureyri apartment. I felt the stirrings to write and publish—lifelong longings—but I didn’t know if I had permission to do that as a missionary. I prayed and cried for two weeks, wrestling with fear of man and memories. The weekend coming up was my home church’s women’s conference, the conference I had directed for four years. It was also the weekend we drove to a pastor retreat in Iceland. When we arrived, a missionary from England pulled me me aside and asked if I was ok. In tears, I shared a little and she said, without knowing my core struggle, you need to write. She encouraged me to do what gave me life. More tears! But the icing on the cake was the next day when we drove the four hours back to north Iceland. On the way, I had friends from my home church messaging me, asking me if I was tuning in to the women’s conference. Apparently, that same day, one of the speakers, who I’d met a few times, mentioned me on stage! She said I’d come to her thoughts as she flew to Alabama and that she felt like I was in Iceland, not just to minister with my husband, but that God would use this place to stir deep wells of writing in me. That I was here to continue my call to write. She then called me later that night to encourage me further. Rivers of tears! These ladies had no clue how deeply I wrestled the two weeks before. For the Lord to bring the answer on the same weekend, from two different women oceans away, was incredible. Life changing. When I have doubts even now, or when fear tries to creep back up, I remember how the Lord spoke. I’m reminded even more so now and I’m so grateful! Thank you Janet for the opportunity to share!
Ok that had me in tears.
Side note one of my sweet friends grew up in Iceland while her dad was stationed there.
I love that connection! I hear about the soldiers that lived here for a while but I forget that means so many grew up here too.
Jenny, what a wonderful dual affirmation for you to follow your heart’s longing and write. It’s odd how we need permission to respond to the tugging of our being to go in a particular direction. I’m thankful you said yes–and look at you now, writing novels that editors are responding positively to!
Back in the early days, I started writing freelance articles for a small magazine. One day, the editor said, “You don’t need to keep sending an SASE. If we can’t use an article, I’ll just let you know.” I felt so validated.
How wonderful! Sometimes people in publishing forget how even a small affirmation resounds big in writers’ hearts.
Reading your story, and the others posted here, is so beautiful and encouraging–thank you, Janet! One memory that stands out for me was my first time attending the Mount Hermon Christian Writers Conference. A former professor had practically dragged me there (literally drove me there), but it was such an amazing week…meeting Lauraine Snelling, my critique partners, and connecting with Wendy for the first time. Until that conference, I really wasn’t sure if I was called to write, but I remember thinking toward the end, when I (along with everyone) was super exhausted and brain-fried, “Even though I’m this tired, I don’t think there’s any other subject I could spend this long of a conference focused on and still not be sick of it.” Odd as that thought was, it helped confirm for me that writing was indeed part of my calling. 🙂
Kiersti, yes, this is proof writing isn’t for the faint of heart. It’s such a labor of love that you’ll even pour yourself completely into a writers conference and be happy but exhausted at the end.
Thank you especially, dear Janet, for these honest and vulnerable words of yours: “Every time I finished an assignment, I would wait several hours to turn it in because I figured this would be the project that convinced Judy I wasn’t suited to work in publications after all.”
I also enjoyed writing as a child and young adult, but I thought I needed a university diploma behind my name before I could pursue publication. So I tried my sewing hand at designing and crafting shoulder bags. But when the stores that I had my purses in closed, I finally heeded an old nudge to sow inspiration through words instead.
Having a dream agent notice and believe in my book hook for the Books & Such 25th-anniversary contest celebration confirmed my decision of turning my sewing room into a writer’s den. (That was my most special writing journey moment so far.)
I love how forgiving word processing is when I botch a sentence or two. The delete button is way easier to use than a seam ripper. 🙂
Blessings ~ Wendy Mac
I love your phrase to “sow inspiration through words.” Indeed, a very different kind of sewing.
I started writing when WiteOut (or whatever its exact name was) seemed like a miracle method to correct typos. I wrote my first book manuscript on a typewriter–and had to go through five complete revisions based on the editor’s feedback. Whew, that took a ton of commitment!
I love that! If I have learned nothing else from my writing journey, it’s that I can trust that God is working behind the scenes to orchestrate things in ways I would never dare to dream. The latest example is that a version of a story I wrote years ago, which attracted the attention of an agent but was turned down for being too similar to something she was already representing, is soon (four or five years later) going before the pub board of a wonderful publishing company–represented by the same agent who had turned it down! Not only that, but the editor referenced the other book in her email to the agent, saying my story reminded them of that one. The comparison was now a strength and not a reason to turn it down!
Sonja, don’t you love it when the opening scene of a story is later turned upside-down, which is exactly what happened for you! Congratulations on being ever so close to that elusive book contract. May it come your way!
Thank you, Janet!
As a senior journalism major at Berkeley, I too felt God’s call to join Cru. Unlike you, I wanted to work in the publications department . . . but I chickened out and threw the application away. Thirteen years later at a women’s retreat God said, “I want you to write for me.” Had I joined Cru directly after college, I would have been working with you, Janet. I regret those missing years in between and have been trying to write for him ever since.
P.S. I did get at least one article published in Worldwide Challenge, though.
Did you!? That’s grand. Who knows; maybe I edited that article?
What!? That’s crazy!
It was a wonderful place to work, so affirming and fun. Plus we got to do amazing things considering we were all recent college grads. I interviewed well-known actors, sports figures, and musicians and traveled to report on events all over the country.
But God had a different path for you, and you contributed to many students’ lives, opening up the joys of reading literature and writing to each of them.
I just checked. “Obedience Is Not a Scary Thing” was published in Worldwide Challenge June 1998. I had thought it was earlier than that.
I’ve made peace with how God chose to use me.
Janet, forgive my tardiness, but early Monday I discovered God moving in an unexpected way. Thus, the true-spoke sonnet below, and 48 hours through which, recovering, I could not write a blessed thing.
God may not give us what we seek,
but gives us what we find,
which may just not be for the weak
stomach, or the faint of mind.
He placed a trained ability
upon my go-to shelf
against the possibility
of a root-canal done on myself.
I wished that it might not be real
in that day’s dawning hour,
the need to do the job by feel ,
and not let my soul cower
from the pincers and the blade
of this new God-gifted trade.
I was working on a rewrite of “The Christian’s Secret of a Happy Life” when I attended my first major writers’ conference at Mt. Hermon. One night, I sat wondering where all this would go, praying, and listening to the keynote speaker all at the same time. Then, to close her talk, the speaker quoted Hannah Whitall Smith, the author of “Christian’s Secret,” and I cried all the way back to my room.
Brenda, that’s such a sweet affirmation. I’ve always loved your project and remember your telling me about it in the Mount Hermon dining hall.
“Tell us about a time God affirmed your call to write and to work toward being published.”
God seems to speak to me differently than He does to most people, at least to most who talk about knowing what God wants them to do. When I pray and ask Him for direction, I hear nothing. In only two or three occasions in my Christian walk have I felt specific leading—and those not dealing with writing. So when I need direction, in writing or anything else, I ask God to direct my decision-making process. I believe He has done this. Some people have said that must mean I’m not a Christian, but that merely shows they think that the way God leads them is the only way God can lead anyone. I reject that. God is bigger than that.
As to my “call” to write, I believe it has been confirmed by John Wesley’s criteria of “grace, gifts, and usefulness”, the means by which he evaluated Christian pastors and workers in his day. God seems to have given me those. So I soldier on, hoping the next book will be the breakthrough.
David, I remember giving a talk years ago in which I talked about how seldom we mortals have burning bush experiences in life. I likened the revelatory moments I’ve had as being like the sun breaking through the clouds. Most of my days are cloudy, in which I know God is present and watchfully caring for me, but I can’t see direct evidence of his connection to me, just like the sun is behind the clouds but not visible. I can count on one hand the sunshine days in my life. That doesn’t mean God isn’t real to me or that I’m some sort of lesser Christian; I believe most of our days are filled with clouds, not sunshine.