Something’s been bothering me. There’s all this talk lately that’s supposed to be inspiring. It generally is coming from people who have made it and can look back in hindsight and say don’t give up. It can get better.
It’s been a common thing in the writing world, success stories, right? I went to a Bible study last week that talked about God is in control no matter what, and I loved it, until the discussion where it was everyone sharing that same success story pitch, how life was so hard but in hindsight I see how God took care of it.
I don’t, as a rule, have a problem with success stories. I mean, even something less achievement-based, like telling someone Mr. Right is out there bothers me.
What if he’s not? What if you are never going to look back and see how God fixed this, you aren’t going to feel he is in control? What if you keep working and you never, ever get published?
That’s why I hate success stories. They’re from people who are no longer in the situation, so they’re, well, kind of meaningless, because there is no guarantee that things will work out for me the way they did for them.
(I MUST say here, though, that God IS still in control, and this is precisely the time you need to believe it most - when you can’t see it. Sort of the ultimate definition of faith, now isn’t it?)
But the writing thing, or the marriage thing, Those are concrete so let’s go with those.
Hope is beautiful. I’m a hopeful person. Hope is what we have when we have no guarantees, no promises, not even a hint that what we’re doing is the right thing, or will ‘pay off’. (As Rachelle Gardner says, what that phrase means is a whole other post.)
So you can tell me how things worked out for you, and that can inspire and fuel my hope…. but I guess what bothers me is that often we allow that to keep us from accepting reality, that it might never happen. Because if it happened to you, it could happen to me.
But can it? Sometimes. Sometimes not.
I think I’m bothered because that’s all it does, offers a somewhat false sense of hope. Hope can’t come from the outside. We have to believe, ourselves, that we are good enough to get the agent, not oh if it worked out for you it might work out for me. Hope doesn’t work like that. It can’t, or it’s false, it’s getting your hopes up.
Because when you tack on the outcome of the story - the resolution that things work out - you negate the help you can give, because you’ve lose the fear of the uncertainty we’re still living in. I don’t identify with you anymore. Because I’m still in the darkness, and I might not get out. You can’t reassure me because you did. That’s not helpful.
Sometimes it can even be harmful, like when I see that, and recognize that it might not happen. That’s an easy way to start a depression. You mean well, to be encouraging, but face it, at the heart, these sorts of stories set up comparisons. You did it, so if I don’t, something’s wrong with me.
I’m not saying stop sharing success stories. But maybe focus on what you went through, on remembering it, than trying to provide the “this could be you” object lesson. Because it isn’t any lesson. Your “don’t give up” is my “that worked for you.”
Yet, of course, if I give up, I’ll never know, now will I?
This is why I stopped writing ’smart’ posts. I don’t know what I’m saying, just trying to explore thoughts. Have any on this idea?
