Tag: authenticity

Staying authentic while telling my story

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I am delighted to welcome Rachel Yarworth to my blog as part of her blog tour for her recently released book Friend of God: The Miraculous Life of an Ordinary Person. Here she focuses on how she felt the need to keep her writing authentic, despite the (very good) advice from others.

Not feeling good enough

When I started writing my book, I felt like a total imposter. Successful authors are eloquent and skilled at their craft (I have my moments in blogging), but surely becoming published would require functioning at an even higher level: one where you are accepted, endorsed and promoted by people who know what good writing is. I felt sure I was not good enough. But I bolstered myself with the kind words of fellow writers who reassured me that the one thing most successful authors have in common is Imposter Syndrome. And I kept writing.

Advised to make changes

When I finally plucked up courage to send my manuscript to beta-readers and potential editors I was given a lot of encouragement about my writing generally, but also told that if I wanted a publishing deal, or even just to sell lots of copies, I would need to change my book: to focus on the more sensational parts of my story; to narrow my target audience down; to ‘show not tell’. All very good advice.

I tried to satisfy each of these demands – I really, really tried. But the problem was, each time I tried, I felt I was betraying my own story and somehow becoming inauthentic. It was important to me that my book was not purely sensational. Yes, there are some amazing miracles in it, but I didn’t want it to be just about those – I wanted to show how God has been just as good a friend in the mundane, everyday messes of life.

I didn’t want a narrow audience either: I felt compelled to make it as accessible as I could, to as wide a range of people as possible. I was a bit more successful at improving the ‘show not tell’ aspect, with the help of a writing coach – but still, I was very aware of not excluding those in the neurodivergent community I love, who can struggle when things aren’t clearly told. So while a small voice inside kept whispering not to give up, I pursued my book with a horrible feeling of ‘getting it all wrong’ constantly hanging over me.

Telling my story

My breakthrough came one day when I was praying about it, feeling miserable that I couldn’t make myself write as the professionals told me I should, and that my chances of my book being accepted for publication were next to nothing. How could I obey the call I had felt to write? Was I letting God down? As I prayed, I felt God speak gently into my heart to offer me a loving choice: did I really want to conform to the world’s ‘should’s of polished perfection? Or did I want to be authentic, simply telling my story to the best of my ability and leaving the rest to Him? I smiled, and peace was restored to my heart. The pro-writer dream is an appealing fancy, but deep down in my heart I don’t care if I never become a ‘successful author’” in the world’s eyes – I just want to do what God asked of me, to get my story out there, for Him.

So I’m OK if my book is not a masterpiece. I don’t think I would ever have published it if I had continued with that pressure on myself. But since it was published, I have received feedback from readers saying how relatable, inspiring and encouraging my story is, and several customers have bought multiple copies so they can give them as gifts to people who wouldn’t normally read Christian books. In short, the things I did ‘wrong’ have become the things that people appreciate! 

We all have authentic stories

And that’s the point. God’s kind, wise words weren’t just about my book, and they weren’t just for me. We may not all be writers but we all have stories to share. And as Christians we don’t have to be somehow better than we are before sharing them – God likes working through our flawed humanity. We don’t have to portray a more polished version of ourselves to be accepted by the world. It turns out, most people can’t relate to that kind of inauthenticity. We just need to be what the world needs: imperfect but truthful witnesses of what we have seen Him do and who we have experienced Him to be. We don’t need to be polished or clever – just honest. Authentic.

Note from Claire: I have a whole series of guest posts from others sharing their authentic stories. Click here to read them.

Rachel lives in Worcestershire with her husband Mike, their three miracle sons and their miniature labradoodle. When not writing, Rachel can usually be found home educating her younger two boys, leading a home church or going for long walks in the countryside.

Her first book, Friend of God: The Miraculous Life of an Ordinary Person, was published December 2022. It is available on Amazon, and can also be ordered in good bookshops. For more from Rachel, you can go to her website or follow her writer pages:
Facebook: Rachel Yarworth, Writer
Instagram: rachelyarworthwriter
Goodreads: Rachel Yarworth

Lessons from lockdown

I am delighted to welcome Tony Horsfall back to my blog. He wrote about love and loss in lockdown previously. In this guest post he is considering how we have been changed during the pandemic – and what the Church may need to take away as lessons learned through the difficulties of lockdown.

Last night at our prayer meeting we thought about how church will be different after the pandemic. It’s a question many churches are asking, even agonising over. As we listened to God afterwards, I felt him say, ‘It’s not that church will be different, it’s that you will be different.’

Church will change because hopefully we have changed during this pandemic. Each of us will have been impacted by the pandemic in different ways, but, make no mistake, the pandemic and the experience of lockdown has changed us – hopefully for the better. And those changes will shape the way we think about church and practise ministry once we are free to meet again.

THE CHANGES I HAVE SEEN

This is certainly true for me. I am not the same person going into 2021 as I was at the start of 2020. Life has shaped me and deepened me, and I pray this will show in my ministry. I have been sensitised to grief and loss like never before. I now see both the great need and enormous opportunity to help others on their grief journey, something to which most local churches are oblivious. Will this be part of my ministry going forward, or will my role be to advocate for this group?

Having been the recipient of so much kindness myself, I hope I am a kinder person with a greater empathy for others, seeing something of the image of God in everyone I meet. I have had a brush with death and that causes me to value life and not take it for granted. Every day is precious, to be received as a gift and enjoyed with thankfulness. As a result, I hope I have a better grasp of what is really important, and what is secondary. I feel more open to change than I have ever been, more willing to accept differences in others and see them as a blessing. 

I hope all of this will show in my teaching and my writing. Not many people get the opportunity that I have, to start life again, and I am praying that I will make good choices that will make my later years abundantly fruitful. I don’t simply wish to go back to how things were before – I want to live another adventure with God.

CHANGES WE SHOULD ALL PONDER

Other people will have been impacted differently by the pandemic. Some I know have been involved in delivering food parcels to needy families, developing in them a social conscience. Is this community involvement something that will be carried forward?Feelings of anger at perceived injustices can be a powerful motivating force for change and shape the way Church responds to society. 

Some have seen how technology and media presence can enhance the ministry scope of the local church, giving it access to those who don’t normally attend, and even creating an international audience. How can we maintain and develop this new aspect of ministry?

Yet others will have felt the impact of the pandemic in a deeply personal way, having lost their job or been furloughed. Restricted income has caused a reassessment of priorities and the place of material things. Some have chosen to simplify their lifestyle. Will simplicity become the new normal?

Hopes have been dashed, key events postponed, relationships put on hold. We have felt the pain of separation from loved ones – will it make us value relationships all the more? When church fellowships have not meant for months, will we be drawn closer together going forwards, or drift further apart? Has the opportunity for more time alone helped or hindered our walk with God? Have we deepened our spirituality or simply drifted away?

HOW ARE YOU BEING SHAPED?

I have always felt that the ministry of the local church should be a reflection of the gifts and interests of its members. That way, rather than copying what others are doing, we can authentically be who we are in our expression of Church. This makes local church ministry both sustainable and enjoyable. Church after the pandemic will be different because we are different. Our characters will have changed, new giftings will have emerged, we will feel burdened in different ways than before. Rather than simply getting back to ‘business as usual’ perhaps we can pause and consider if God may want to do a new thing among us.

How do you think you have changed as a person during the pandemic? It is worth stopping to think about this because we don’t want to miss the gift of transformation that God is giving us through these difficult days. Don’t waste your sorrows, griefs, losses, sacrifices, hardships…What has God been forming within you? And how will that shape your service for him in the coming days? How will it be different because you are different? What will be new for you in 2021?

Tony Horsfall is a retreat leader, author and mentor. His latest book is Finding refuge and is available directly from him at tonyhorsfall@uwclub.net

PS If you are walking through grief, or feel you have loss and disappointment you need to process, there is still time to sign up to my online retreat, which is taking place on 23 January.

Can we be honest about Christmas?

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I was thrilled to be asked to endorse Lucy Rycroft’s book Redeeming Advent earlier in the year. It was published in October and she is now in the throes of a blog tour – I am delighted to welcome her to my website today. And the fantastic news for you is that she has provided a free copy of the book for one of my regular readers to win! (Please see below for details of how to enter.)

It’s a privilege to be guest posting for Claire today. Her passion for honesty and authenticity has been inspiring and challenging me ever since I came across her writing.

Claire’s ministry is vital because, in real life and on social media, I’m increasingly noticing that people desire integrity over ‘relevance’. Once upon a time we all thought we had to dress a certain way, have a few piercings, act and speak ‘cool’ in order to draw others to Jesus.

But the gospel has always been, and will always be, more relevant than any of us could ever be. It doesn’t need glitz and glamour, it needs authentic people, sharing vulnerabilities and weaknesses, prepared to stand up and say ‘I struggle’ or, even, ‘I’m not very cool’.

This is the thinking behind my blog The Hope-Filled Family where I share the honest chaos (and believe me when I say it is chaos) of my family life. With four children aged 5–10, a clergy husband, an open home and a plethora of church and school commitments, we frequently boast laundry mountains, sinks full of dirty dishes, forgotten packed lunches and badly-dealt-with tantrums.

I mess up so much – and yet, in that mess, God affirms me as His daughter, Jesus redeems me from my failures and the Holy Spirit inhabits me with peace and joy.

THE BIRTH OF AN IDEA…

The blog is where my new book Redeeming Advent was birthed. In December 2017 I decided to write an Advent reflection for each day leading up to Christmas. This in itself could have been another item on my ‘failures’ list, but – by God’s grace – I made it to December 24th!

Each day I would take something that had happened that day – however mundane – or something ‘d been mulling over, and write what God might be teaching me through it. There was plenty of reality, honesty, humour and potential embarrassment, as I shared the highs and lows of our Advent that year.

Early in 2018 I found a publisher for these devotionals, so in the summer I found myself editing the whole lot, to tie them together in a way that would work for a book.

BEGINNING TO QUESTION MYSELF

During this editing process, as I read what I’d written the previous December, I started to think: Is anyone bothered about this? Do people care that I bought too much gift-wrap one year, or that I have a fear of under-catering, or that I don’t know how to use a real-life bookshop?

Of course all writers need to ask themselves questions as they write, challenging themselves to write deeper or more descriptively or in a more accessible style.

But the problem with the questions I was asking myself was that they were rooted in deep fear. Fear of what people would think of me. Fear of coming across like an idiot. Fear that literally no one would be able to relate to me. Fear that I was alone in my thoughts.

We read in 1 John 4:18 that ‘perfect love drives out fear’, and it can sound hollow to those of us whose fears are very real, very dominant and don’t look like they’re going anywhere. But I can tell you that it is only the love of God that made me confident to write openly and honestly about Advent: the fun traditions alongside the stresses and strains.

I have come to realise that I write for the people God puts in my path. That means it doesn’t matter if 99 people who read my writing think that I’m an idiot, if one person relates to what I’m saying so much that it draws them into closer connection with Jesus.

CULTURAL EXPECTATIONS

Letting go of the desire to meet others’ expectations as I write parallels the way I believe we need to let go of the cultural expectations of Christmas.

I’m not suggesting that we shouldn’t decorate our trees, give presents or enjoy special meals – in fact, Redeeming Advent talks quite a bit about redeeming these ‘secular’ festivities to glorify God. 

But there are a lot of expectations around this time of year that weigh heavily on us, and these will be different for each one of us. 

Perhaps you are the person in the family who others expect to organise the Secret Santa/host Christmas/make travel plans – and it’s just draining all the joy out of you. 

Perhaps you’re a sucker for the John Lewis Christmas adverts, and feel you’ll never be able to meet this (unrealistic, by the way) cultural expectation of a beautiful Christmas from start to finish. 

Perhaps you feel the weight of your children’s expectations to provide elaborate presents, when you desperately want them to treasure Jesus first of all.

LET’S BE HONEST

This Advent, I want to plead with you: Can we be honest about Christmas? Please? Can we acknowledge the tricky family dynamics, the tight financial budget, the job uncertainty, the worry about our children, the state of our mental health, the marital difficulties, the grief, the loss, the sadness?

Because, if we do, I think we might discover better connection to others, as we share our burdens and empathise with the suffering of others.

And, even more importantly, I think we will discover more of the Jesus who came down to this damaged earth in a busy, messy way, who knew what it was like to be a refugee, an outcast, an oddball, a target of others’ attacks.

This, friends, is where we will find our perfect Christmas. Not in the perfectly arranged place settings at the Christmas table, nor in the perfectly coordinated baubles on our tree, but in the perfection of our Saviour, who endured the suffering caused by others, so that He might rescue us from ours.

Have a very blessed Christmas!

Lucy Rycroft blogs about parenting, adoption and faith at  The Hope-Filled Family. Her first book Redeeming Advent is an accessible 24-day Advent devotional and you can buy it here. Lucy lives in York with her husband Al and their four children.

BOOK GIVEAWAY!

Lucy has kindly provided a free copy for me to give away to one of my blog readers! To enter, please sign up to my mailing list below. If you are already signed up, simply make a comment about Lucy’s blog and I’ll include you in the draw. The deadline to sign up is Sunday 10 November – I’ll be choosing a winner on Monday 11 November.
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Fighting despair

Reflections based on 1 Samuel 22:1–6; Psalm 142.

Reading in Samuel, we discover that David is running from Saul and takes refuge in a cave. He had already been anointed king by Samuel at this point, but the current king was not ready to give up his throne. It is interesting to see how God allowed David to go through this time of testing. He didn’t simply triumphantly walk onto the throne: God worked on his character through these testing times.

David wrote a few of the psalms while hiding from Saul. In Psalm 142 he is totally overwhelmed and desperate. He believes no one cares about him. And yet, even in the depths of despair, he turns to God. He tells Him how he feels. This might seem shocking – he says to God ‘no-one is concerned for me’ when obviously deep down he knows that God is. But I believe this psalm is important because it shows us that God wants us to be honest with him, in the way that David is here. Notice that he does turn things around though, and it is when he remembers where his hope lies that things change for him. As we see in verse 2 of our Samuel passage, God brings 400 men to him who form the start of his army. While he may feel he is hiding away, God is giving him an opportunity to work on both his own character and the development of leadership skills to run an army.

How do you respond when the heat is turned up in your life? Do you have a tendency to wallow in self-pity? If so, try to articulate that to God rather than keeping it inside and dwelling on it. Then remind yourself that He is the only real source of strength and hope.

I have found that I can have a tendency to get stuck in negative emotions. Learning how to lament, using the psalms as guides, has been an incredibly helpful form of release. I try and articulate all of my emotions through writing them down, and then remember God’s faithfulness to me in the same way.

For prayer and reflection: I am sorry Lord when I hide away from You, too low even to speak. Help me to lift my eyes to You, be honest about how I feel but also remember that You are my hope.

Learning to be me

Today it is my pleasure to welcome Melissa Ohden to the Unmasked: stories of authenticity blog series. She has written about her own personal story in You Carried Me; here shares how she has learned to take of her mask and be who she was created to be.

In Life, the Truth and Being Free, author Steve Maraboli states, “Live authentically. Why would you continue to compromise something that’s beautiful to create something that is fake?” I would add to this that scripture is clear about authenticity. For example, take Ephesians 4:22-24, in which believers are called, “to put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.”

Being authentic means more than just taking up a cause, “being you” or moral relativism and the like. It’s about being honest with the world about who God made you to be, what He’s done in your life, and what He’s called you to share and do. Being authentic is beautiful, because it’s how God calls us to live. Why would we project something else to the world that’s fake, when what He makes is beautiful?

I am an abortion survivor and, although I don’t believe God originally wrote this storyline in my life, because He’s the author and creator of life, I am so thankful that this is the story He’s written in my life. This is who God made me to be! Although I’m so much more than just a survivor of a failed saline infusion abortion, the reality is that this is how I was born into this world, and this very experience has shaped who I am, my career path, my mental, emotional and physical health, my relationships with others, my relationship with God and, although it happened 41 years ago, it still continues to affect my life today.  

Although most people won’t ever know what it’s like to be an abortion survivor, we all know what it’s like to have a secret, to have an experience or life story that we feel ashamed or embarrassed about, maybe even fearful of others knowing.

That’s how a mask first gets placed on, in which you cover your authentic self, your true identity, your experiences and stories that make you uniquely you, and reflect someone else to the world. 

Maybe it’s sin you’re masking, maybe it’s a painful experience you’ve had that’s deeply shaped your life, maybe it’s your belief in God and who He made you to be that you’re trying to keep under cover.

Our world certainly reinforces this, especially when it comes to being affected by abortion in a negative way and even when it comes to being a believer and follower of Christ. Our culture communicates that we should wear a mask to cover our authentic self that may challenge it, that may make others uncomfortable. My very existence makes people uncomfortable! And it made me uncomfortable to know that years ago.
Our individual stories may look different underneath, but our masks often look surprisingly similar:

The woman who has it all together. Perfectly made up. Slaying it at work. Instagram-perfect home, marriage or dating relationship, and children. That’s a common mask.

Maybe you’re the one whose mask communicates that you don’t need anyone, you don’t care about anything. You’re aloof and could care less about the world. You don’t need anyone or anything. You’re a woman who stands alone. You don’t need God.

Or maybe you’re the woman who’s always happy. Sad, anxious, depressed? Considered ending your life because you don’t see any meaning or purpose in it? No, never you! You’re okay. You’re more than okay! You’re always happy!

There are so many different masks that we wear,and even though those around us may not realise it, I think deep down, each of us know when we’re wearing them, when we’re covering up our authenticity. I think that as women, we can also innately sense when someone else is wearing a mask, too.

 What was my mask, you may be wondering? Mine was the picture of perfection: “high achieving, people pleasing, must earn people’s love and respect and never show people my hurt”. My mask was beautiful, and firmly covered the truth about who I was.

At the heart of the matter, I was afraid of who I was, of how people would react to my story or treat me when they learned of it. The few times that I had told people my story privately after I found out about it at the age of 14 hadn’t gone well. Although close friends and classmates were supportive, others expressed their pity for me, coupled in tandem with their disdain for my personal beliefs about abortion, and even their questions about the credibility of my life story. 

The more I shared my story and people responded in that manner, the more my mask glued itself on. Maybe you can relate to that. Our masks may first be placed accidentally, but over time, they become purposely placed. We feel like we need to wear them, we must wear them, in order to survive. 

I knew God alone spared my life from abortion and I was so deeply grateful for all He’s done in my life, but I was so affected by our greater culture’s perception of me, so overcome with fear and shame, that by wearing that mask, I was holding back not only the truth about myself, but the truth about God.

Let’s think for a minute about what makes God who He is. He’s the most authentic example for us to follow. He’s merciful, His love is unfailing, He never changes. As God spoke to Moses, He is “I am”. We never have to question who He is, because we know. He never changes. God’s authenticity then bears fruit in us. Through His authenticity, we trust in Him, we love Him, we praise Him, we are confident in Him and His plans for us. Just as His authenticity bears those fruits, we reciprocate likewise in this world when we’re being our authentic selves.

Research literature tells us that living authentically, unmasked, is the key to wellbeing, purpose and even peace. Or, as scripture says, being honest about who God made us to be and what He’s done in our lives bears these fruits. While there may be some twists and turns along the way, when you live as who you really are, you find not only freedom and strength, but also the joy of giving your true talents to the world.

But how do you even do this? Where do you start, when you’ve worn the mask that hides your genuine self for years or even decades – when fear is holding you back from sharing your most authentic, but likely most complicated or painful pieces of your life? How do you share your faith with the world? How do you begin to pry that mask off?

Personally, it started by looking, honestly, at a couple of statements and their impact on me:

If you reallyknew me, you’d know this: ______. 
What is that one thing that most people don’t know about you that you’ve kept hidden? What is it that you’ve experienced that makes you, “you?”

If you really knew me, I think you would ____ me because of this.  
(Love me, hate me, judge me, not respect me as much, you wouldn’t want to be my friend, you’d feel sorry for me, etc).

Melissa’s book is available now, and is published by Lion Hudson.

Although I live an authentic life now, which enables me to be open and honest about who I am, and which has given me great strength, there was a time in my life when I was afraid to share this with anyone. I was afraid to live my life and be me. 

Years ago, I answered that second statement with the following: “If you really knew me, I think you wouldn’t accept me for who I am.” I was deeply afraid that if I was honest with the world about who I am, they wouldn’t accept me. This is a common human experience. We want to be accepted, to be loved, to be understood, to be respected. The root of this is the desire to be loved and accepted unconditionally. Can I remind you that God loves you unconditionally, and that your authentic self, your identity, comes from and is rooted in Him. This is the biggest step, I think, in living life unmasked – recognising your identity and strength truly come from God.

The more I’m honest with the world about who I am, the stronger I become. No matter what it is that you’ve experienced, no matter how scared you are of your story, or of sharing your faith, I hope that you can experience that same strength and inner peace that comes from taking off your mask and being authentically you. Be who God created you to be, and you will experience life in the most profound and beautiful way!

Asking the right questions

I am delighted to welcome Rachel Jones to my blog – her piece fits well within the Unmasked: stories of authenticity series, but she also provides us with an insight into how she went about researching her new book.

When I finished writing Is This It?,I felt a little bit sad. I felt a whole load of positive things too – grateful, relieved, satisfied. But also sad. 

Why? Because I’d miss the conversations. 

Is This It?explores twelve different emotions that are common in our 20s (and beyond) – from self-doubt to dissatisfaction and decision paralysis. The book grew out of my own experience of what some people would call a ‘Quarter-life Crisis’: a period of anxiety and uncertainty over where your life is at and where it’s going. (A bit like a mid-life crisis, but when you’re younger and therefore can’t afford to compensate with a sports car!) 

During the research and writing process I was on a year-long scavenger huntfor ideas, experiences and anecdotes from anyone who was in their 20s, or who had been once. I was a woman obsessed. Nobody was off-limits – old friends, church acquaintances and anyone unfortunate enough to sit next to me at a wedding. No topic was off limits either. Rather than enquiring about work and weekend plans in that period of post-church chit-chat, I started asking questions like: ‘I’m writing a chapter on loneliness this week. Do you ever feel lonely?’ 

Or, ‘I’m asking everyone about this at the moment, but have you ever struggled with doubt?’ 

Or, ‘Tell me about your experience of dating your husband. When did you know he was the one?’ 

Or, ‘What are you feeling discontent about at the moment?’

I’ll admit I was, at times, a little toointense. Those who saw a lot of me began to roll their eyes or raise an eyebrow whenever ‘the book’ came up. They knew what was coming. 

But here’s the thing: people were wonderfully honest with me. As part of the book project I had meaningful connections and real conversations with a whole range of people I wouldn’t have otherwise. It was fascinating. And I’m so grateful for it – first, because I trust that diversity of experiences made the book a whole lot better. And second, because I reaped the benefits of better, richer, deeper friendships as a result. 

It’s ironic, because during my own ‘Quarter-life Crisis’ I don’t think I spoke to many people about it. For months I felt a vague yet persistent sense of unhappiness. I was bored of life. I didn’t especially like where I was working, and I especially didn’t like where I was living. I felt a little bit lost, a little bit lonely, a little bit like I was looking for something, but I wasn’t sure what. But I didn’t really talk to anyone about it.Maybe they weren’t asking the right questions. Maybe I wasn’t giving the right answers. Maybe I didn’t have the guts, or the vocabulary, to be authentic. 

So writing and talking about my experience had been wonderfully freeing. That’s why I was so sad when the book project was over. 

But here’s the thing: we don’t need to be writing a book to have these kinds of conversations. We don’t need an ‘excuse’ to be vulnerable, or invite others to be vulnerable with us. We don’t have to have a special reason to be authentic with others. The Bible gives us reason enough: ‘Perfume and incense bring joy to the heart, and the pleasantness of a friend springs from their heartfelt advice’ (Proverbs 27:9).

So here’s what I’m increasingly seeking to do, and what you could seek to do too:

  • Ask the right questions. Sometimes we need to be more intentional, and a bit braver, with the kind of questions we ask one another. Of course, this will depend on the kind of relationship we have with someone, and we need to be sensitive to their individual needs and personalities. Sometimes, though, it’s good to bite the bullet with real, direct questions. Other times, it’s interesting open questions that are more effective. (‘What are you thinking about right now?’ can result in interesting answers…)
  • Give authentic answers. This is way harder than asking the questions! So much within me wants to give the impression that everything’s fine and I’m quite a nice person really than be honest. Authenticity will only happen if we’re confident of who we are in Christ – if it’s his approval we rejoice in the most. And it helps me, too, to remember the benefits I’ve reaped from being honest in relationships in the past. So all I need to do is take a deep breath…and say something truthful about myself. 

Rachel Jones is the author of Is This It? and the award-winning Five Things to Pray series, and an editor at The Good Book Company. She’s a member of Chessington Evangelical Church, where she’s involved in children’s work and leading Bible studies for young adults.

Facing the face beneath the mask

I am delighted to welcome Mel to the Unmasked: stories of authenticity blog series. Here, she gives a behind-the-scenes glimpse into some of the issues she was wrestling with while writing her latest book, Picked for a Purpose, which publishes tomorrow – congratulations Mel! It is fascinating to hear how God prompted her to include more of her own story than she had previously planned to…

Ironically, I found myself, recently, having nightmares about ‘revealing all’ in my next book, Picked for a Purpose – memoirs which my publisher had asked me to write.I’d been going through considerable pain for almost a year due to a muscle tear in my shoulder and was suffering from lack of sleep. It was during those sleepless nights that the enemy seemed to attack. When asked how I was, however, with true British grin-and-bear-it reserve, I would don my mask and reply, ‘I’m fine, thank you. There are others far worse off than me.’

I’m sure we all know what it means to wear a mask at times. At least, in theory. But what about in practice? Do you ever ask yourself, ‘Who am I?’ Do you ever wonder if the person you believe yourself to be is really you? Or is the real you eclipsed? Hidden behind a facade? Blotted out by the persona you choose to convey?

‘Don’t make comparisons!’ my physiotherapist admonished me. ‘Own your pain!’

His words were like water off a duck’s back to me. Until, that is, the nightmares deepened. 

THE MASK OF MORALITY & RESPECTABILITY 

So why the fear? There’s nothing new about my life story. My earliest books, published in 1983, had focused on specific issues in my life, the first telling the story of a difficult marriage, the second of the divorce that followed, and the third of the detrimental effect on one of my daughters. Commissions from major publishers had followed, one of which, The Last Mountain: Living with Aids, became a Sunday Times No 4 Bestseller, plus speaking events, TV appearances and radio broadcasts.

Then, in the late 1990s, my writing career went on hold when I was asked to take on the role of Copyright & Financial Manager for Jubilate Hymns – a publishing company whose work was renowned worldwide. It was a fabulous experience but, on retirement fourteen years later, the urge to return to writing was overwhelming.

Having fulfilled God’s command to me to ‘comfort others with the comfort I’d received’(from 2 Corinthians 1:3-4) in my earlier books, I now felt I was being told to ‘entertain your readers so they will absorb truths they might otherwise resist’. Crossover fiction – portraying the truths of the cross to non-believers via story – seemed the obvious answer. I was aware, however, that few people would recall my earlier work, and that I was, in effect, starting from scratch. Hence Malcolm Down’s request that I share my life experiences again.

RIPPING OFF THE MASK . . .

I set to and, on completion of the first draft, I woke early one morning with a compulsion I knew was of the Lord. Rather than simply reproducing my adult life story, I was to include the terrors of my childhood and disasters of my adolescence. I was, also, God revealed, to add reflective sections at the end of each chapter, showing what I had learned, followed with relevant questions for the reader. The aim, I felt He was telling me, was to show, through my own experience, some of the mental issues with which young people wrestle today: unspeakable health problems; poor body image; the need for love leading to immorality; fragmented families replaced by gang culture; taking on another persona; and drug addiction – all a means of escapism. In other words, the donning of a mask to hide the real self.

It was to be more than that, though. I was to show the way in which God can take these negatives and bring forth positives: the purpose for which He has picked us. Hence Picked for a Purposebecame the title, with a strapline Bearing fruit through times of hardship.

. . . AND BARING ALL

Soon afterwards, during the period when I was finding it difficult to sleep due to extreme pain in my shoulder, a comment made in jest by one of my daughters gave me nightmares.

‘Do you really want the grandkids knowing what a naughty girl grannie was?’ she asked. ‘All those comments on Facebook and Twitter?’

Now I may be a grandma, but I am perfectly au fait with modern technology. Nevertheless, it simply hadn’t occurred to me to stop and think about the possibility of negative comments – perhaps from people who had known of my earlier life – nor the of detrimental effect this might have on family and friends. It was this that was giving me nightmares!

REPLACING THE MASK WITH THE SHIELD OF FAITH

Back in the day of my earlier books, Edward England had introduced me as a ‘best-selling author’. And although I had renounced the title, clearly, in his eyes, I was perceived as a woman of status! Was I now to be seen as something less? Wrestling at night with doubt, I seriously considered throwing the whole manuscript out of the window. But God intervened! In order to counter those negative perceptions he urged me to finish the book by setting out my purpose in revealing all. Here’s what I wrote:

‘The problem is that it’s all too easy to come across as a Victim; a “poor me” inviting pity and compassion. Equally problematic . . . is the concept of conveying an image of sainthood. A “look at me and my faith – aren’t you amazed?” when the reality is that I know myself to be a sinner not a saint.’

As with my shoulder pain, my purpose in writing the book was not to make comparison between my life and that of others. Neither was it to point the finger of blame at anyone. It was simply to own the pain of my life. To strip off the mask and face the face beneath. And in doing so, to glorify God. As He instructed me, so He does you:

Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place,and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one.  Ephesians 6:14-16

That shield of faith will, surely, be more than sufficient to fend off the fear of being seen for who we are. Who we really are! Children of God. The real Me. The real You. Frail and faulty, yes, but now washed clean in the blood of Christ. No need to hide. No need for a mask.

A multi-published author since 1983, with commissions from Hodder & Stoughton plus a Sunday Times No. 4 Bestseller, Mel Menzies has written under several noms-de-plume. The first novel in the Evie Adams series, Time to Shine, also became a No. 1 Bestseller in its category on Amazon. 

An inspirational speaker, Mel has a lifetime of rich and painful experiences to draw on, including an undiagnosed congenital disease, a dumbed down childhood, divorce, debt, a daughter’s drug addiction and subsequent death.  Through her website and blog, An Author’s Look at Life www.melmenzies.co.uk, she offers resources to inform, inspire and encourage in all walks of life.  

Book anniversary

There are few things more exciting for an author than to see their book baby in their hands for the first time. Today is the first anniversary of my book Taking Off the Mask, so I couldn’t let the day pass without marking it with a blog post. I had written books before this one (and some after too), but this was the one that I had had on my heart for quite a few years before it came out. It was also the one that I had the hardest time getting published! But out it came last November, and I was blown away by all the support from the team who helped produce it, those who helped launch it, other colleagues and all my family and friends. (You can still buy the book direct from me and I’d be happy to sign it for you – please click here to find out more.)

Authenticity is such a passion of mine and it is the subject of many of the talks I do. I firmly believe that church should be a place where we can be honest about our struggles. Life is tough, and we all need those close friends who we can share with openly and get support, prayer and, yes, challenge when necessary. Far too often we hide what is going on, afraid of rejection or ashamed that we are struggling at all. But that is not the way that God intended us to live.

God sometimes surprises us too: when I started my own journey with this subject I never realised I would one day write a book about it and become a regular speaker (the shy introvert in me is still taken aback by that one). And yet I absolutely LOVE all the opportunities that He has opened up. That isn’t to say that I find everything easy – often His nudges necessitate a whole lot of faith and courage on our part. But we can rest assured that He accepts, loves and holds us – He is the ultimate champion of each one of us and loves it when we step into the new things He has lovingly prepared for us!

I feel so privileged to be able to mark this one year anniversary. And I’m excited to let you know that I’m working on another book currently – this time co-written with the lovely Heather Churchill. It is Insight into Shame – something that each one of us experiences at some time in our lives. While my own story could have kept me locked in shame, I now freely share it in the hopes that it encourages others to open up. And I’m praying over this new book as I put it together, that the insights within it will help people walk free from the shame that has held them for so long.

Kate Bowler on grief, cancer – and touch

There has been a lot of noise about Kate Bowler’s book Everything Happens for a Reason and Other Lies I’ve Loved. And rightly so. In it she is incredibly honest about what it is like to live with a cancer diagnosis. How difficult it is to go through treatment, cope with friends’ and family members’ processing, as well as receiving endless explanations from strangers about why she has cancer (she wrote an article for the New York Times).

Knowing about my Unmasked blog series, Kate’s publicist and publisher offered me the chance to share an extract of my choice from the book. It feels especially poignant to be doing this now, as just last week I lost a dear friend to cancer. I am certain that she is now fully pain-free, and with her Saviour, but for those of us who are left behind we mourn and grieve. I am so grateful for those moments that I was able to share with her in her last days. Grateful too for this book, as it taught me how important touch is – and so I remembered to reach out and give my friend a hug as I said goodbye for what turned out to be the last time. It’s also taught me that grief starts early, which I am finding in another situation I am currently experiencing.

I know cancer is a particularly emotive subject, and full of pain for many. I hope that Kate’s naked honesty, and sprinkling of humour, will help others to understand what it is really like for those with cancer – and how we can be better at supporting them even as we process the emotional pain ourselves. Over to Kate…

There must be rhythms to grief, but I do not know them.

People begin to take their turns grieving me because it can’t be done all at once. Family and friends who could not be at the hospital for my operation come to stay at the house, and we start all over at the beginning.

I sit outside, wrapped in the same blankets and taking in the sunshine, all my favorite people orbiting around me. My pastor takes out her Psalms and reads a little, gripping my hand. My mom cooks a lot, stocking the freezer with everything that is suggested to be anticancer. My older sister, Amy, sends treats and constant encouragement, while Maria, my younger sister, gives me her words when she can’t be there, sending me poems and bits of trivia from New York, where she is working as an editor for a Catholic magazine. She has two big hopes for me: one, that I will be cured; the other, that, before it is over, I will punch the nearest inconsiderate person in the face.

I have so many fears, spoken and unspoken. When I first got my job at Duke and realized that I was going to live in the United States for some time, I made a lot of loud protestations about how “I will not die in a foreign land!” I also made clear that I would not die in my office, not only because that had happened before to professors (prone, as they are, to get preoccupied by their research) but also because it seemed sad, at twenty-nine, to feel exiled to the Land of Opportunity for eternity. I think back on how I casually strategized about where I would be buried, concerned that I would never be able to reconcile all the parts of my identity. A daughter who lives far from family. A friend who spends too much time at work. A wanderer but a type A planner. I wondered if I would ever be one, whole person. But now I am not hoping for completeness of any kind. All I can think of are the logistics. One night I wake up almost every hour because my mind has seized on a horrible question: Wouldn’t it be a paperwork nightmare to move my body? To take me home?

When I teach pastors at the seminary where I work, I lecture them about the First Great Awakening and religious responses to the Civil War and how their political differences will ruin their next Thanksgiving if they don’t learn to shut their traps. But as a historian, I have never spent any time teaching them how to perform baptisms, officiate weddings, or conduct funerals. And I have certainly never told them what to say when they visit someone who is dying and how not to sit on her couch, mouth full of cookies, and ask endless questions about how cancer treatment works. I did not tell them how few of their words are needed but how much their hands are wanted, a hand on my back as I tear up, a hand on my head for a soft prayer for healing. When I feel I am fading away, these hands prop me up and make me new. When my older colleague Frank, who lost his own adult son, found his way into my hospital room, he wrapped his strong hands around mine and said, quietly: “I wore this clerical collar to impress you. And also to get through hospital security.”

Kate Bowler is an assistant professor in the school of divinity at Duke University. She lives in North Carolina with her husband and son. Currently the experimental immunology treatment she is undergoing is working, and studies suggest Kate has at least another year to live.

 

 

Poignant poem for Mothers’ Day

Georgina (left) and her sister Bec

I read this post on Georgina’s own website and asked her whether it would be okay to include it as this week’s Unmasked: stories of authenticity blog. She is so honest, so raw and vulnerable, and I know this will speak to many for whom Mothers’ Day is bitter-sweet.

I have found Mothers’ Day hard before, trying to hold in tension my gratitude for the beautiful children I have and my sadness for the one I didn’t get to keep.  It is a day countless others find hard too.

This year feels like a whole new level of struggle is looming as I must face yet another difficult day, where my raw emotions will be dragged to the surface and shaken and beaten just a little more. It is six months since my sister passed away; Mothers’ Day without her is another hard ‘first’.  This time last year we had no idea our worlds were about to implode.  She was diagnosed a week later.  Writing this poem has helped me to face it better.  It is not a cry for pity or a judgment on those celebrating – just a pure reflection of my thoughts and emotions as I continue to walk this road of grief.  I hope it will make fellow strugglers feel less alone.

Mothers’ Day  

Last year, 
My sister took the early slot, 
Taking flowers and chocolates to Mum,
Mid afternoon,
Chatting casually 
Over coffee,
A Mothers’ Day like any other.
Her words scrawled in the card,
One of many down the years,
A relic now.
I went later,
With a now-forgotten gift,
For a glass of wine
and child-free conversation,
A luxury.

This year it’s just me.
I can never be enough,
Feel enough, write enough,
Say enough, do enough,
To plug the gaping hole now left,
One we hadn’t even seen coming then,
That ordinary Mothers’ Day last year.

Mothers’ Day looms.
I’ve survived it before,
The times it has threatened to suffocate me,
As a Mother, minus a child,
Taken too soon.
I’ve learned to live with that.

This time round I have a Mother and a child – two, in fact.
But Mothers’ Day threatens to swallow me whole in a different way,
As I face my own Mother,
With one child less and a pain 
No gift from me can dull.

And it threatens to swallow me whole 
When my niece crawls onto my lap 
Motherless,
Adapting, adjusting,
But with parts missing that will never be whole.
I cry as I imagine her,
Surrounded by classmates,
Gluing tissue paper to make-shift bouquets,
Wondering in her six-year old way 
If Mummy still sees,
Somewhere out beyond the stars.

Mothers’ Day.
I’ve learned to live with the pain
And the kick-in-the-teeth, 
It doles out, once a year,
Learned to count up the blessings as well as the cost.
Countless armies of others join me,
Teeth gritted through Facebook outpourings.
I’m not on my own.

But this year, 
Is harder than ever.
I lock my hands for the ride,
in the tightest of grips
As the Mothers’ Day rollercoaster plummets again,
Wondering if anyone will hear my screams.