Author

Lois Flowers

How an Editor’s Painful Feedback Changed My Life

by Lois Flowers
by Lois Flowers

Inside: Criticism that had nothing to do with writing exposed a huge blind spot in my life and paved the way for future growth. ~

I’ve had the opportunity to work with many wonderful editors over the years. People who appreciated the value of a perfectly turned phrase, who explained when it was better to use a long dash or a semicolon, who taught me to write the language of my readers rather than the jargon of the businessmen and women I interviewed.

But as much as I learned from these wordsmiths, the greatest lesson I ever learned from an editor had nothing to do with sentence structure or the Associated Press Stylebook.

It was about pride.

All Puffed Up

See, I’ve been a writer for a several decades, and there was a time—many years ago—when I thought I was pretty darn good. So good, in fact, that I had a terrible time accepting constructive criticism or feedback from my editors.

I really don’t know where I got off thinking like this. Maybe it had something to do with being an honors student all through school. Perhaps there’s something about excelling academically that makes one prone to thinking one knows everything when one enters the real world (ahem).

Whatever the case, I didn’t receive feedback or correction very well in my early days as a newspaper reporter. I would argue and insist I was right and resist making changes that were probably very good.

I’d like to think I didn’t do this in a loud, noticeable way, but it did happen.

It was pride, and it was ugly.

Called Out

At my second newspaper job, I had an editor who was tough but fair. As I recall, she had been raised by a godly mom and gone to a faith-based college. But although she was well-versed in matters of religion, I don’t think she was what one would consider a practicing Christian.

She knew I was, however.

And one day she called me out on my attitude. I don’t remember the exact conversation, but the basic gist of it was that, even though I said I was a Christian, I wasn’t acting like one in how I received feedback.

I was devastated.

Ashamed.

Embarrassed.

Humiliated.

I’m pretty sure I felt every emotion you could possibly feel in such a situation except for one, and that was anger.

I wasn’t angry because she was right.

My Response

That evening, I went home and cried my eyes out. I also determined in my heart to change.

I returned to work the next day and apologized to my editor. And from then on, I made it my aim to stop arguing about feedback.

At first, I almost had to put my hand over my mouth to keep the defensive words from pouring out. With God’s help, though, I persevered. And the more I responded correctly, the easier it got.

Turning Point

That long-ago encounter was a turning point—in my journalism career and in my life.

God used my editor to expose a huge blind spot in my mind and heart. The experience hurt badly, but it also was a gift—one that paved the way for future assignments.

For example, my next job involved a significant amount of collaborative writing. If I had still been insisting on my own way and not able to take criticism, this task would have been extremely difficult. It turned out to be one of the most rewarding jobs I’ve ever had, but it would have been a disaster if God hadn’t seen fit to humble me at the newspaper.

The pride wasn’t gone, of course. I still had a lot to learn—lessons that went far deeper and took much longer. It’s an ongoing growth process, even now.

But It Was a Beginning

And to this day, I’m so grateful for the editor who—for whatever reason—wasn’t willing to let me get away with being a hypocrite.

The thing about pride is this: It’s easy to spot in someone else, but practically impossible to identify in yourself.

Yes, God resists the proud. But when He reveals pride in His children, we do well to look at it as the gracious gift of a loving Father—the only One who knows exactly what we need to become all that He designed us to be.

♥ Lois

The greatest lesson I ever learned from an editor had nothing to do with sentence structure or the Associated Press Stylebook. It was about pride. Share on X When God reveals pride in His children, we do well to look at it as the gracious gift of a loving Father—the only One who knows exactly what we need to become all that He designed us to be. Share on X

P.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.

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Season of Challenges Calls for New Outlook on Change

by Lois Flowers
by Lois Flowers

Inside: Change has never been my favorite, but a series of unexpected transitions uncovers the need for a new perspective. ~

For years, I’ve worked through life’s challenges by plunking myself down at my laptop (often after a good run), typing a few words about what was happening and then drawing out some notes of encouragement that might be helpful to someone.

Lately, though, something’s been off.

I’ve been wanting to write this post since the middle of the summer, at least. So why has it taken me this long? I can answer in one word: change.

I’m not talking about the kind of change thrust upon someone due to a devastating accident, an unexpected betrayal or a sudden loss. Rather, I’m referring to the kind of changes that, when they come one after another after another, add up to what my friend Natalie calls “death by a thousand paper cuts.”

Anyone else know what I’m talking about?

What Happened

Here’s a brief (though incomplete) rundown. Starting in late April, a bad knee forced me to stop running, get physical therapy and begin riding a bike for exercise. (As I wrote in Learning to Adjust to an Unexpected and Hard Change, all of this was more difficult and came with more feelings of loss than I ever expected).

While I was still hobbling around the house, older daughter Lilly graduated from college and got a job that has her living and working remotely at home (at least for the time being).

In June, we left our previous church and began searching for a new one.

In early July, huge rains caused our basement to flood, resulting in foundation work outside and an unexpected remodeling project inside. We had an unusable guest room and bare concrete in our family room for weeks as we waited for new carpet to arrive.

We even switched our homeowners and auto insurance to a new company. (This was the one change that required little adjustment and actually saved us quite a bit of money.)

Trouble Adjusting

Summer always brings new rhythms, but this year, I had trouble finding the beat and staying on it. Particularly when it came to my knee, I found myself longing for the way things were before.

Amid all the adjusting, though, I realized something about myself.

When life is hard—when I’m grieving and exhausted and everything is out of my control, for example—I’m more aware of God’s presence and involvement in what’s happening.

But in a season of small challenges, like the one I’ve just described, I’m more likely to complain.

I’m also more prone to say or think things like, “I don’t like change,” “Change is not my favorite,” or even “I hate change.”

Not Helpful

Gradually, it dawned on me that such statements—while true—were not constructive. Dwelling on how much I hate change wasn’t helping me manage the changes that seemed to be coming in rapid succession.

Those of you who are further down the path can tell me if I’m right. But I’m guessing this is increasingly what life will look from here on out. Change after change. Some welcome, many not. Some expensive, some merely inconvenient. Some full of joy, others full of sorrow.

The good news is that, no matter how much change life throws at us, our God does not change. Immutable is the theological word for it.

Malachi 3:6a says, “For I the Lord do not change.” Hebrews 13:8 adds, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.”

This is a huge comfort, isn’t it? On regular days as well as during pivotal moments like the one our country is living through right now.

Change is Inevitable

We still can’t escape the fact that change is inevitable, of course. And if last summer taught me anything, it’s that I need to change my attitude about it.

Should I find some way to welcome change? Learn to embrace it, even?

Maybe I’ll get there someday. For now, though, I’m trying not to complain about it so much.

• • •

Now that I’ve shared my current thoughts about change, I’d love to hear from you. Not to be repetitive, but how has your perspective on change changed over time? What helps you get through seasons of small challenges, like the one I’ve described above? If you are middle-aged or older, what words of advice or encouragement do you have about change for people coming up behind you?

♥ Lois

Dwelling on how much I hate change wasn’t helping me manage the changes that seemed to be coming one after another. Share on X Should I find some way to welcome change? Learn to embrace it, even? Maybe I’ll get there someday. For now, I’m trying not to complain about it so much. Share on X

P.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.

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What’s True on the Trail is Often True in Life

by Lois Flowers
by Lois Flowers

Inside: My friend Natalie Ogbourne has been to Yellowstone 31 times, and now she’s written a book about it. In this Q&A interview, she talks about what she loves most about America’s first national park, why she chose to write a travel memoir and the role that bears play in her story. ~

To say that Natalie Ogbourne has a long history with Yellowstone National Park is a bit of an understatement. She started going there with her family when she was 12; in September, she logged trip No. 31.

“It’s a happy place for me, rich with memories,” she says.

I’ve only been to Yellowstone once, in the spring of 2022. Before I went, I reached out to Natalie—then a blogger acquaintance—for some help. “What should we know before wo go?” I asked.

I don’t remember what she said, but just having some input from an expert made me feel better about the adventure we were about to embark on.

Let’s Go to Yellowstone

Since then, Natalie has become a friend. We are in an online writing critique group together. We’ve met for coffee a few times in Pella, Iowa, where she reared her three children and lives with her husband Jaime. And this past spring, I had the wonderful pleasure of editing her first book—a travel memoir about Yellowstone.

Waking Up in the Wilderness: A Yellowstone Journey released on Oct. 21. I’m probably biased, but it’s one of my top two favorite books of 2024. (Incidentally, the other one also is a travel memoir.)

We emailed back and forth recently about Yellowstone, her book and the role that bears play in her story. I hope you enjoy our conversation as much as I did.

• • •

LOIS: This is not a fair question, but I’ll ask it anyway. What do you love most about Yellowstone? (Maybe top three?)

NATALIE: I am almost incapable of choosing a favorite so thank you for giving me the option of three!

The variety: Some of Yellowstone’s visitors, especially the regulars, are specialists: geyser gazers, wolf watchers, back-country campers. While my family and I are regulars, we are generalists, not specialists. We hike. We usually have a geyser day. We invest some time watching wildlife. We visit the Old Faithful Inn.

We engage in what we call “water therapy,” which is just going to one of our favorite water spots to sit and talk, sit and read, sit and do nothing. We drive down to the Tetons and do many of these same things.

Each day, each visit is different than the one before because we just choose what appeals to us for that day.

The quiet: Even with all the traffic created by the more than 4 million people who visit the park each year, Yellowstone is a quiet place—the sounds of civilization being softened by all those trees, I suppose. With all that exposure to the peaceful, healing powers of creation, the interior world quiets as well. The absence of phone notifications amplifies the quiet.

The water: Whether it’s a simmering pool, erupting geyser, thundering fall, placid lake, or meandering river, I am all about Yellowstone’s water.

LOIS: Why write a book about Yellowstone? 

NATALIE: When I write—or speak—about virtually any topic pertaining to faith, it almost always finds its way back to a Yellowstone story. I write because that’s how God created me. I wrote a book about Yellowstone because that’s where my creativity and faith intersect. 

LOIS: Why this particular book?

NATALIE: I didn’t make a decision to write this book or even a book about Yellowstone. This was my story, so this was the book. From the beginning, when I knew absolutely nothing about writing or how to write a book, I knew it was a story about Yellowstone and what God had taught me there about walking by faith.

What I didn’t know was that a story like that is memoir. I always just thought of it as a book about Yellowstone and I was simply the teller of the story so my experiences there would be part of the story.

I think I figured out this book was memoir the same day I heard someone say that memoir is the hardest genre to write in because it combines the story arc of fiction with the need to stick to the facts of nonfiction. I remember thinking “Of course. You would pick the hardest thing to write.” But that’s the thing. I didn’t pick it. It just was.

LOIS: What was the hardest part to write? 

NATALIE: Without the a question, it was the conclusion.  I didn’t start the book with the end in mind. I didn’t have a point to make that I was trying to build the narrative around. I didn’t have a predetermined destination I was taking myself and the reader to. That emerged with the writing.

I believe it was Robert Frost who said, or wrote, “No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise for the writer, no surprise for the reader.” There were certainly surprises along the way, and when the individual stories were written, I had to figure out how they would come together which, of course, was there from the beginning. I just had to find it.

LOIS: Without giving away any spoilers, what role do bears play in your book? 

NATALIE: I was only a few chapters into the original draft when I realized how big of a role fear played in what I was writing and how much of that fear had to do with the possibility of encountering a bear in the backcountry. Bears are in the narrative from the beginning to the end which, I suppose, is a good and healthy thing.

Yellowstone is bear country, and we do well to remember that.

LOIS: What do you hope people take away from your story—about Yellowstone and about life in general? 

NATALIE: That what’s true on the trail is often very true in life. Waking Up in the Wilderness often finds me struggling with feeling alone in perilous or high-pressure situations in the park. Facing danger in Yellowstone taught me that my feelings weren’t telling me the whole story.

We are never alone—not on the trail and not in life. Along with that, I hope people see that created places like Yellowstone were made on purpose and deserve our care. In the beginning, God did good work in creating the heavens and the earth.

Today, He’s working in us through places like Yellowstone to reveal His character, to help us understand more about walking by faith through the ups and downs of everyday life, and to restore our hearts, souls, minds, and bodies.

• • •

You can find more of Natalie’s tales about Yellowstone and connect with her at natalieogbourne.com. And please go to Amazon.com and check out her book, Waking Up in the Wilderness: A Yellowstone Journey. It’s a must-read if you’ve ever been to Yellowstone, if you hope to go someday or if you appreciate a good memoir.

If you enjoyed this Q&A, feel free to drop Natalie a line in the comments. And I can’t end this post without asking: Have you ever been to Yellowstone? And if so, what did you like most about it?

♥ Lois

'Yellowstone is a quiet place—the sounds of civilization being softened by all those trees, I suppose. With all that exposure to the peaceful, healing powers of creation, the interior world quiets as well.' ~ Natalie Ogbourne Share on X 'What’s true on the trail is often very true in life. Facing danger in Yellowstone taught me that my feelings weren’t telling me the whole story.' ~ Natalie Ogbourne Share on X

P.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.

Photos provided by Natalie Ogbourne.

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An Analogy that Helps Us Love Our Spiritual Siblings

by Lois Flowers
by Lois Flowers

Inside: We don’t get to choose our Christian brothers and sisters, but our heavenly Father still asks us to be patient with each other and kind to one another. ~

When my daughter Molly was in fourth grade, I went to her school once a week to have lunch with her. The friend she usually chose to sit with us at the parent table would often ask me the same question.

“Are Lilly and Molly sisters?”

Patiently I would explain my daughters were born at different times and in different places in China, but they are sisters now. My words seemed to satisfy her, at least until the next time I came for lunch.

The fact of the matter is that Lilly and Molly are sisters because they have the same set of parents—me and Randy. They did nothing to become sisters. But because we adopted both of them, that’s what they are.

All I Know

Adoption is the only path toward parenthood I’ve experienced, and I can’t imagine my family any other way. I know the scriptures contain weighty spiritual metaphors relating to adoption, but I don’t feel like I have any greater insight into how all that works because I am an adoptive mom.

How God chooses and calls the children who end up in His family is a mystery to me. I do know this, however. We are God’s children because He is our Father. Not because of anything we did or anything we brought to the relationship.

He adopted us into His family because He loved us first.

Randy and I did a lot to become Lilly and Molly’s parents—filled out piles of paperwork, paid many fees, spent years waiting. But God did exponentially more to provide a way for us to become His children.

Forever Family

When we accept His gift of salvation, available to us through Jesus’ death on the cross, we become part of His eternal family. But, like Lilly and Molly when they joined our family, we don’t get to choose our spiritual siblings.

My girls have always been close, but even as young adults, they go through their cantankerous phases. When they’re busy pushing each other’s buttons or getting annoyed at each other, I have a simple response.

“Be nice to each your sister,” I’ll say. “She’s the only one you have.”

Timely Spiritual Analogy

Perhaps there’s a spiritual analogy here as well, one that is especially relevant today. As Christians, we sometimes go through phases where we don’t like each other very much. We may disagree with each other, annoy each other or judge each other unfairly.

We may be as different from our fellow believers as my daughters are from each other. We may think we have absolutely nothing in common (apart from the gift of grace we’ve all received), and maybe we are right.

But our heavenly Father still calls us to be patient with each other. To be kind to one another. To look out for each other’s best interests, even ahead of our own.

This is how people know we are His children—by the way we love our brothers and sisters.

♥ Lois

We are God’s children because He is our Father. Not because of anything we did or anything we brought to the relationship. Share on X We may be as different from our fellow believers as my daughters are from each other. But our heavenly Father still calls us to be patient with each other and kind to one another. Share on X

P.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.

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Learning to Adjust to an Unexpected and Hard Change

by Lois Flowers
by Lois Flowers

Inside: I didn’t plan to quit running this year. Then my knee started acting up and I decided the best way forward was on a bike. The switch was more difficult than I imagined it would be, for many reasons. ~

About a year ago, we learned about a massive infrastructure project our city was planning to undertake just down the road from our house.

Aside from some occasional detours, the most significant inconvenience about this project—from my perspective anyway—was that part of the trail I had run on since 2020 would be closed and I’d need to find a new route.

I wasn’t really looking forward to this, but I knew it was coming. What I didn’t expect was to stop running altogether.

When Spring Arrived …

I started envisioning potential new routes and even considered taking some practice runs to find an equivalent distance. Then, a few weeks before the heavy equipment started rolling into the neighborhood, my knee started hurting.

It’s acted up in the past, but the pain always went away after a while. This time was different.

After limping around for a few weeks, I went to the doctor.

Disappointing News

I was hoping for an easy explanation, a shot of something that would put me out on the trail again in no time flat. The PA looked at the X-ray and listened to me talk about how much I enjoyed running. Then she gave me a healthy dose of reality.

“A knee replacement is in your future, and it’s going to be lifechanging,” she said bluntly.

She meant the bone-on-bone arthritis in my knee would get worse, and when I eventually had the knee replaced, I’d have to find a new form of exercise. Either that or run the risk of wearing out the new joint and needing another new one, which wouldn’t work as well as the first replacement.

Now’s the Time

Google revealed a wide range of opinions whether you should run after a knee replacement. In my case, though, genetics spoke louder than the internet.

To date, five of my six siblings have had at least one joint replaced. I’d prefer to put off the apparently inevitable surgery for as long as possible, which meant the time to stop running was now.

I went to physical therapy for several weeks. I dutifully did my assigned exercises at home. I visited to the local bike shop and found a nice used bicycle.

A Difficult Change

It wasn’t physically hard to quit running. I just stopped going outside in the morning.

Emotionally, though, the change was more difficult. I wasn’t expecting the feelings of loss that came with it.

The funny thing is, I never planned to run on the trail in the first place. For years, I read books while I jogged on my treadmill in the basement. It was the perfect setup.

What Happened

Then Lilly wanted me to run outside with her while she was home during the Covid shutdown. And how do you turn down an opportunity to spend time with your daughter who would be leaving for college in a few months?

Although Lilly is a wonderful coach, switching from the treadmill to the trail was one of the most challenging things I’ve ever done, physically. But when she went away to school that fall, I kept after it.

Bit by bit, I went farther and got stronger. Bit by bit, I grew to love it.

And Now, I Miss It

I miss the efficiency of it. I miss how I felt when I was done, the sweat pouring off my face that assured me I was doing something good for my body even if I never seemed to get any faster. I miss running with Lilly when she’s home.

I’ll be honest: Giving up running put me into a funk for a while. I knew I needed to keep moving, but biking was tougher than I expected. I had to figure out a new morning routine. Plus, it didn’t help that my knee still hurt.

That said, I’m not the first person who’s had to adjust to something like this. In the grand scheme of transition and loss, what I was experiencing was minor, to say the least. Eventually, I decided I needed to stop complaining and be thankful instead.

A New Perspective

As I said before, I never expected to start running outside, much less grow to enjoy it. For four years, I had the opportunity to do it. It made me stronger and brought me closer to Lilly.

I’m also grateful for how biking is both stretching and blessing me. I’m learning to navigate around obstacles on the trail and to be on the lookout for what might be coming around the next bend (including oblivious teenagers who remain oblivious even when I’m directly in front of them).

I’m getting used to wind resistance (so much wind resistance!), and to yelling out “on your left”—sometimes multiple times—as I come up behind people jogging or walking their dogs.

I’m starting to recognize other “regulars” on the trail—the older man who walks in dress pants and a button-down shirt, the friendly women with their dogs, the couple on bikes. When we smile and say hello, it makes up for the others who never even look up.

Natural Blessings

There’s birdsong and fall foliage. And then there are the deer. Four or five, grazing in a clearing by the trail. One, right by the path, who stands there watching with big brown eyes as I ride past.

When I was running, I sometimes stopped to take a picture of a beautiful sunrise. Now, even if I were fast enough to retrieve my phone and get a photo of the deer, I don’t even think about it.

I simply enjoy the view.

What’s Next?

I don’t know what I’m going to do this winter. Ride as long as the weather permits, I suppose, and then start walking on the treadmill.

As for my knee, my only sibling who has not had a joint replaced recommended a supplement to try. I started taking it, and happily, my knee feels pretty good.

I don’t know how long this will last, but for now, I’m thankful.

I always wanted to run like the wind. Now I’m riding into the wind. I guess there really is a season for everything.

• • •

Have you ever experienced a relatively minor change that was unexpectedly difficult to adjust to? Please share in the comments. And keep an eye out for a follow-up post about how this change fits into an entire summer of little transitions, and what I’m learning from all of it.

♥ Lois

Giving up running put me into a funk for a while. Eventually, though, I decided I needed to stop complaining and be thankful instead. Share on X I always wanted to run like the wind. Now I’m riding INTO the wind. Share on X

P.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.

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What I Learned Then Still Encourages Me Now

by Lois Flowers
by Lois Flowers

Inside: Reading through quarterly “What I Learned” posts brings back poignant memories and highlights realizations that come during hard seasons. ~

Years ago, I wrote a quarterly blog post called What I Learned. It was a great way to look back at the previous season and take stock of the lessons that flowed from whatever was going on at the time.

I stopped doing this in 2020, probably because the blog linkup featuring the same name ended that year. But it’s always interesting to click the link when one of these posts shows up in the Related section at the bottom of my weekly blog.

When I noticed this one recently, I decided to take a deep dive into the whole series. What exactly did I learn over the years? Did those lessons hold up?

Just the Facts

Some of the seasonal takeaways were strictly factual. For example, I learned I have a small head (during Covid, when I struggled mightily to find a mask that fit comfortably).

My daughter Molly and I learned how to make Japanese steamed dumplings (it’s much easier than I thought). I learned about Cicada Killer Wasps (they are as horrifying as they sound), and that Jan Karon started writing the beloved Mitford series when she was 50 years old.

During an especially busy time, I also learned that lists are a great summer blogging strategy. (I wish I would have remembered that this year, but that’s a story for another day.)

Comforting Reminders

As I perused these old posts quarter by quarter, I discovered lessons and memories relating to specific events—some happy, many unexpected and heartbreaking—that reminded me of God’s goodness, faithfulness and sovereignty.

Seasons change, but He does not. It’s a truth that holds us fast, come what may.

This week, I thought it would be fun to share some highlights from these past posts. What I learned from What I Learned, if you will.

The original pieces include additional commentary with each point, but here, I’ll just include the primary takeaways.

Without Further Ado …

• Making progress in one area can help you make progress in others areas.

• It’s OK to abandon unfinished projects.

• If you like blingy shoes, you should buy blingy shoes.

• There’s comfort in order.

• Our happiness should not depend on someone else’s mood.

• When people inspire us, we need to tell them.

• Friendships among people who share a love of books and reading are among the best friendships of all.

• A burden shared is a burden lifted.

• When you have every reason to believe the upcoming season is going to be easy (or at least easier than it was the previous year), don’t hold on to that expectation too tightly.

• As a parent, you stop worrying about making the most of teachable moments when all of life becomes a teachable moment.

• The build-up to a Very Big Thing can seem more stressful, emotional or difficult than the actual thing.

• When you pray and ask God to show you what you need to see, He does.

• When you’re all out of words, it’s OK not to say anything at all.

• Understanding from someone who was once where you are is a rare and precious gift.

• • •

There you have it—what I learned from What I Learned. Maybe someday I’ll start doing quarterly posts like this again. In the meantime, I’d love to know which of these points resonates with you during this season of your life.

♥ Lois

The build-up to a Very Big Thing can seem more stressful, emotional or difficult than the actual thing. Share on X Understanding from someone who was once where you are is a rare and precious gift. Share on X

P.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.

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