Inside: A personal story that still brings me to tears, what helped when I lost my voice in the wilderness, and what to do if you want to know God as your Father. ~
This summer I’ve been going through old emails, trying to pare my inbox down from more than 8,000 messages to something, well, more manageable.
I chuckled when I ran across a series of emails from an editor at The Kansas City Star. The messages were from 2013 and 2014, when I was a reader columnist for the weekly religion section.
I remember writing the columns, but I had forgotten about the application process.
Humble Pie
Apparently, my background impressed the old-school editor but my two writing samples did not.
“I can see your journalism skills in your smooth writing,” he wrote, “but I don’t find the depth of thinking about faith or inspiration or intellectual knocks on the head.”
He offered some additional negative feedback and ended with this: “So what do you want to do—shoot me something else or call it a day?”
I chose the former option and was eventually selected to be one of the 12 columnists for the year, signing a contract to submit a piece every quarter.
What Came Next
I started blogging soon after that. In those early days, I republished each of those four columns here.
That was a long time ago, and many people who read my blog now probably weren’t reading it then. So this week I’m sharing excerpts from those four posts, with a link to each piece.
These columns represent my foray back into published writing after a long season in the wilderness. After almost nine years of blogging, they remain among the most personally meaningful pieces in my writing portfolio.
I hope you find them to be encouraging, whatever you are dealing with in your life right now.
How a Psalm I Learned as a Child Saved Me as an Adult
I once wrote an entire book about infertility. But even now, after years of writing about all sorts of very personal topics, my first post for the Star feels like one of the most vulnerable messages I’ve ever written.
“As I stood there in the shower, the song that had so encouraged me before flitted through my troubled mind and I began to sing. Shakily at first, the words pushed past the turmoil in my brain and came pouring out my mouth.
“ ‘I … will … lift up mine eyes to the hills, from whence cometh my help … my help cometh from the Lord … the Lord which made heaven and earth …’ ”
Keep reading here …
What This (Barren) Mom Thinks on Mother’s Day
This column was published near Mother’s Day. I took that opportunity to explain why I love the holiday now but have never forgotten why it is so hard for many.
“Sometimes I think I refrain from praising God publicly for his specific blessings because I don’t want to cause undo pain for someone else. I tread carefully even now, never forgetting the anguish this time of year can cause for women who are struggling to conceive. I still don’t relish going to church on Mother’s Day, because I remember. I look around and wonder, Is anyone here feeling what I used to feel? The ache, the sadness, the loneliness?”
Keep reading here …
By the way, after my editor received this piece, he sent me the following note: “Nice piece, adopted our second daughter after 10 years of not being able to have a second child.”
Guess you never know what you might have in common with someone, huh?
What I Did When I Lost My Voice in the Wilderness
In the following post, I wrote about my long-time practice of typing out my prayers. And what happened in my heart and mind as I did this.
“Day after day, I talked to God via computer keyboard. I have countless files of rambling prayers nobody will ever read, probably not even me. But through that dry time, they were my oxygen. …
“I’d sit down at my desk, exhausted, anxious, overwhelmed. I’d cast my burdens on him, one by one. I’d remind him, over and over, that apart from him I can do nothing. I clung tightly to the promise of Psalm 138:8, that the Lord would fulfill his purpose for me, even if I had no idea what that purpose might be.”
Read more here …
When You Want to Know God as Your Father
Finally, in this column, I used the experience of interviewing my dad about his life as a segue into knowing God as our Father.
“Personally, it’s been the things I’ve struggled with mightily—begged to be freed from, even—that have exposed my weakness and forced my dependence on God’s fatherly attributes of strength, love and compassion. He could’ve ordained an easier way for me, but because He’s my Father and has my best interests at heart, He’s often allowed the opposite.”
Read more here …
In response to this last piece, the editor wrote this: “Thanks so much for your help on this project. I very much enjoyed this submission.”
I suppose I could have gotten offended at his bluntness during our initial interactions. Looking back, though, I’m so glad I decided to accept his criticism and “shoot him something else.”
• • •
Thanks for taking this trip down memory lane with me. Drop me a line in the comments and let me know if any of the posts I shared was particularly meaningful to you today. And if you know others who might be encouraged by these pieces, please do share.
♥ Lois
Personally, it’s been the things I’ve struggled with mightily that have exposed my weakness and forced my dependence on God’s fatherly attributes of strength, love and compassion. Share on X I have countless computer files of rambling prayers nobody will ever read, probably not even me. But through that dry time, they were my oxygen. Share on XP.S. I’m linking up this week with sharefoursomethings, #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.
