No Memoirs for Me.

Had an interesting conversation with my wife the other day. We talked about how neither one of us could become published poets or novelists. Paraphrasing our thoughts, we concluded that successful writers are able to bare their souls about the most personal of details--the secrets we keep to ourselves.

Some of the details we keep hidden are about ourselves--our doubts, our insecurities, our vanities, and etc. We'd also like to write about the people in our lives--the foibles that make us laugh, the behaviors that frustrate us, the characteristics or actions we deeply admire. Yet, to put these things to print or pixel would be dangerous, I think.

It seems that writers or poets who put their work "out there" are willing to take a risk that their readers won't like what they see. Certainly, there is an evaluation of the artistic merit of whatever is written, but I'm not talking about that. Writers sometimes give details about their own lives or about the easily recognized details of the lives of others. And, of course, those details are often less than flattering.

As a preacher, I've heard and often lived by the motto that the best illustrations contained in sermons contain details about the people who were at your previous church. Even the people where I am at now are colorful enough, I could never mention some of the things I witness for fear that from week to week, heads would swivel up and down the aisle with people wondering, "Who's the pastor speaking about this week?" I could write more about this, but some people reading this would know I am talking about them...

That said, I've found it interesting that people sometimes approach me after a service and comment, "You were talking directly to me today," or something to that effect. The interesting thing is that when I write sermons, I am usually writing them for myself. Sermons are essentially a confessional work for me. I share what I believe, or, speaking honestly, what I want to believe. For someone to say that this or that sermon "was for them," is simply an affirmation that I am not the only one out there who has questions about God.

There were times, especially early on in ministry, when I approached the pulpit like a hammer looking for nails. Those are times I care not to repeat. It doesn't keep me from wanting to do it sometimes, though. The bully pulpit has some instant gratification, but in the long term, it just creates more messes. In my experience, venting my frustration on Sunday mornings can sometime be like stomping on something a dog leaves behind. The stink is immediate, and unfortunately, it lingers far longer than you ever wished it would.

I draw no conclusions other than my first thought--I don't think I could ever be a published writer. I don't think I have the spine for it--or else, in my point of view, you could say that I love my family too much and would like to keep my friendships. Sometimes being a pastor is lonely enough. I don't need people to start avoiding me out of the worry that they are going to be fodder for some short story or doggerel that I attempt.

Yet, I end up with the thought that I am deceiving myself somewhat. I write these thoughts with the expectation that at least a few other people will read them. However guarded I might be about the details of life doesn't seem to mean that I don't want people to read what I say. So, maybe I want to be writer after all...but just a cowardly one.