“Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men.” – Colossians 3:23
Steve Harvey shares an oversized truth using the minuscule flea. According to Mr. Harvey, fleas have a 36-inch vertical leap, which is higher than the average human’s leap.
If you capture a flea, put him in a mayonnaise jar, and put a lid on it, the flea will attempt his usual 3-foot jump. Over and over, he’ll keep jumping and keep hitting his head on the lid. But after a while, after getting knocked down repeatedly, the flea adjusts. He begins to only jump to where he won’t get knocked down. His lid—his environment—now has him jumping not nearly as high as he could.
The flea sires a flea family, who join him in jumping just shy of the jar’s roof. That’s all they know—they’ve been born into the conditions of their environment. Despite having 36-inch vertical leaps, they duplicate Dad’s behavior. The fleas never reach their potential.
Some of you may have been born into mediocre environments. Perhaps your family’s church attendance was a sometimes occurrence, so long as other higher priorities didn’t get in the way. Maybe “punching the clock” was the goal, rather than being actively involved in ministry. Perhaps your teenage siblings and closest friends were all sexually active. That low standard of behavior was the norm in the environment you grew up in. You assumed that’s what all teens do.
Perhaps you came of age in a mediocre church environment. The worship felt routine and passionless. If the Spirit was present, He was confined to the pantry. The Christians around you seemed to approach faith like a country club membership. You showed up, followed a lifeless routine, returned home, and then repeated the process. There was no sense of urgency in reaching and impacting the community, much less the world. Your Christian “role models” were content to jump only to the top of the spiritual jar, so you followed suit.
Steve Harvey concludes, “Until you take the top off your mayonnaise jar, you’re going to duplicate your surroundings.” The note from the margin reads: We mustn’t allow ourselves to be limited by the mediocre spiritual environments we grew up in. We must work heartily for the Lord.
It’s time to overcome our imperfect pasts and blow the lid off our faith! It’s time to let God help us reach our full potential!
Every Scar, a Story… what can you tell us about your new book?
It’s Act I of my planned three-act life story, which I hope to eventually cover in three roughly 25-year increments.
So, it’s a memoir?
More of a memoir/autobiography hybrid. It’s not as comprehensive as a full-life autobiography, but it’s wider in scope than a traditional memoir. I tell my story (and, to a degree, my family’s story) through nearly 140 bite-sized scenes or vignettes. The “scar” theme runs throughout and ties them together.
So, it’s a tell-all?
It’s a tell-some. I put my life under a microscope and try to make sense of it. I turned over as many stones as I could find.
With all due respect, you’re not famous. Who’s going to read this?
Fair point. My sister Ellen asked the same question! (I love the raw honesty of a sibling.) I’m confident my sisters and sons will read it… and Dave Esslinger and Jeff Battreall, my buddies since high school. They have starring roles. As co-editor, my wife has to read it. Beyond that, I don’t know. If you want famous, you can read Madonna’s story or, better yet, the Book of Job.
My goal has never been big sales. That’s a fleeting pursuit. That’s not why I write. In this book, I set out to tell my story in a truthful, hopefully captivating way, and draw some lessons from my life. I grew up in a military family and traveled all over the world. I’ve lived through some amazing, wonderful, and difficult experiences. My hope is that readers will see themselves in some of my stories and be encouraged, inspired, or at least feel something. I like the way author Anne Lamott puts it: “If something inside you is real, we will probably find it interesting, and it will probably be universal… Write straight into the emotional center of things.” That was my target. The reader gets to decide if I succeeded.
What inspired you to tell your story?
A couple of years ago, it dawned on me how little I know about my ancestors. You may know your grandparents but what about your great-grandparents? How about your great-great-grandparents? Not much, right? Most of my ancestors were content to live and die, leaving behind little to no documentation of their allotted time in history. These people—their lives, voices, and knowledge—are lost to us. I would love to know more about a family member from two hundred or five hundred years ago. How cool would that be? So, in a sense, this book is a gift—a love letter—to my family and especially my descendants, most of whom I will never meet. My new grandson, Bradford, will eventually get to read this book and learn a fair amount about his great-great-great grandparents.
How did your title come about?
While working on the project, I was perusing the Facebook page of a young man who hadn’t been to church services in a while. Sometimes social media posts give an indication of someone’s well-being. I came across the phrase “Every Scar, a Story” and instantly knew I had found my title. It works on a couple of levels. The book tells a single story—my story—yet it’s shaped, in part, by scars—physical, emotional, or spiritual. And each of these scars has a story.
How did you research and organize the stories?
I have two things going for me. First, I have an exceptional memory, fed by exhaustive family archives. I have an extensive collection of scrapbooks, yearbooks, photos, and family mementos. I still have gifts from elementary school girlfriends, a collection of old, nasty football mouthguards, and letters my grandfather sent home during World War II. I tapped into those resources—well, not the mouthguards.
Second, I’m a nerd. I created an Excel spreadsheet, with the first 25 years of my life down the left hand side and, across the top, various categories of things I was looking for—decision points, lessons learned, the funny, the embarrassing, and the scars. Over the past 18 months, as memories randomly popped into my head, I noted them on the spreadsheet, then wrote about them. I also reached out to my wife, sisters, and other family and friends for their perspectives.
Were the perspectives different?
In a sense, always. No two memories of an event are identical. We each remember things differently, based on our perspective, age, and baggage. Some memories form or evolve based on oft-repeated stories. We block out other memories. There’s a whole area of psychology dealing with our brains and how memories form. My friends and family corrected me in some places, and I was reminded of a few scenes long forgotten. The goal was to tell my story accurately and fairly, not to reach consensus. Keep in mind: this is my story. If someone has a different memory or perspective, that’s okay. They can write their story, and I’ll read it.
“Every Scar” sounds heavy?
There are some heavy moments, for sure. I had to go to some dark places, and I will have to dig up more skeletons in Act II. For a book like this to work, you must be vulnerable and transparent. You have to rip off some scabs. No reader wants you to drone on about how wonderful your life has been. Still, there are some sweet, touching moments, too. Plenty of humor. Self-discovery. Even some pop culture. I pack a lot into this book. I can’t wait for my family and friends to read it.
How did you handle privacy concerns for those you talk about in your book?
That was tricky. I mostly went with first names. I also changed the names of my middle and high school girlfriends, along with a few people who did embarrassing things. To my knowledge, nothing is mean-spirited or unfair. In a few instances, where family members’ shortcomings are discussed, I either got their permission or used material that was already widely known. I don’t think anyone will be offended, but if so, I apologize in advance. I did my best. This has been the most difficult and personal of all the books I’ve written. I should also mention that I have many friends and family who I love, and who positively impacted my first 25 years, who are not mentioned in the book. Not every relationship or memory fit the construct I used. Please don’t be offended. You may even be thankful!
Did you learn anything about yourself?
You can’t take on a project like this without learning a ton about yourself. The process is self-discovery on steroids. I’m proud of some aspects of my life but I also rediscovered plenty of regrets. We all have them, don’t we? Most people put up a wall. We sanitize our past or take our mistakes with us to the grave. We put on our Sunday clothes and project an image of how we want people to see us. Not this time. I knocked down the wall. I talk about many (though not all) of my missteps with the hope others can learn from them. If you find yourself thinking “TMI” while reading, just move to the next story! The experience has also given me a deeper appreciation for my family—I’m so blessed. This project was an opportunity to forgive myself in some areas, put the past behind me, and move forward. It’s a healthy, cathartic, therapeutic exercise. Everyone should write their story, regardless of whether you publish it.
Any other projects in the works?
There are always projects in the works. My brain never rests! Just ask my wife! I try to write a monthly blog. I’m ¼ of the way through Faith in the Margins, Vol. 2. I’ll also keep nibbling away at Act II of my life story. I’m considering a leadership book based on my military, church, and other experiences. There may be another book, already partially written in my head, on prison ministry. I plan to keep writing, even though Maryville’s Vienna Coffee House, without asking, got rid of my favorite, weathered, wrinkly writing chair that sat in the corner. How am I supposed to write on shiny new leather?
What about fiction?
Aside from aspects of The Eulogy, which I co-wrote with Janet, I haven’t done much fiction writing. I admire authors who create imaginary people and worlds and take us there. We all need an escape from time to time. But I’m drawn to the real world. My calling as a writer—my niche if you will—is to point people directly or indirectly to Jesus. That’s non-fleeting—an endeavor that can pay off in ways that endure. I’ve found I’m best able to do that through non-fiction. In my latest book, as well as the previous six, I’ve tried—through board games, my Appalachian Trail hike, a dying man, the Genesis story, etc.—to illuminate a loving God. As long as He keeps me around, I’ll keep doing that.
Anything else you’d like to add?
A few weeks ago, I spent a week looking after my dad at his Florida condo. He has dementia, is frail, and sleeps about 16-18 hours per day. But in those waking moments, we had some great conversations. He’s not able to read much anymore, but he can still speak, listen and understand. Each next day, though, his previous day is almost always erased from his memory. It’s sad but we’re doing the best we can to support him and his wife. At Janet’s suggestion, I started reading a late draft of Every Scar, A Story to him. He laughed out loud at points and shook his head at others. I helped him recall some family history he had forgotten. He even corrected a few details, as his distant memories are still partially intact. What a gift to be able to share my book with the man who was largely responsible for my existence—my story. The significance of the moment was not lost on me. It’s something I will always remember… until my mind starts to slip. Perhaps then my sons can read to me from Every Scar and revive old memories.
So, who will read the life story of just an ordinary guy? I don’t know. But I got to share a good portion of the tale with my old man in the twilight of his life. He smiled. He said it was good. That was enough.
