Don’t Be A Flea by Heidi Chiavaroli

Heidi Chiavaroli

My son’s karate teacher is a storyteller. The kids love this. After a hard workout of blocks, five swords, and roundhouse kicks, he gathers the students around him on the mat and tells them a story that will encourage them in their quest to be a Black Belt.

Last week the story was about fleas.

That’s right. Fleas.

Stay with me.

He told them about an experiment done where fleas were put in a jar. And what do fleas do? They jump. Those fleas in that jar jumped away to their little heart’s content. They jumped so high they hit their heads on the top of that jar, but kept right on jumping.

And jumping. And jumping. And jumping.

For hours. And hours.

They didn’t stop. They didn’t give up and take a rest.

Good for those persevering fleas, right?

Well, finally the scientist took the lid off the jar, assuming the fleas would jump out—free at last!

But they didn’t.

They did, however, keep right on jumping. Just high enough to save themselves the pain of hitting their little heads on the cover. Just high enough to miss out on their true potential—freedom.

I think sometimes as writers we tend to be like those fleas. We might push ourselves to a point, but then we settle in. We get comfortable with writing inside the box—or jar, if you will. We write safe. Write what we know. We might not risk the pain of possible rejection by stretching our abilities, by writing honest, by stripping ourselves bare to allow our true voice to shine through.

But the only way we’ll grow, the only way we’ll reach more people with our message, the only way we’ll achieve our ultimate potential, is if we step out of our comfort zone.

My son’s karate teacher calls this having an indomitable spirit. I love that. I want to have an indomitable writing spirit. I don’t want to be a flea. I want to push myself. Be a little risky. Maybe get those rejections, maybe even some criticism. If I’m willing to step outside my comfort zone, not everyone’s going to like it.

But that’s okay.

Because I don’t want to be a flea. I want to pursue this writing journey with stubborn persistence. I want to give it my all.

I want an indomitable spirit.

****

Heidi Chiavaroli is a writer, runner, wife, mother, and grace-clinger—not necessarily in that order. Ever since taking her first trip to Plimoth Plantation with her sister, mother, and grandmother at the age of nine, she has been fascinated with history and its significance to today’s people and culture. Heidi is the winner of ACFW’s 2014 Genesis Contest, Historical Category. She lives in Massachusetts with her husband, two sons, and Howie, her standard poodle.
www.heidichiavaroli.com

You're a Writer by Casey Herringshaw

Casey Herringshaw

You’re a writer.

It’s in your DNA.

How you answer every professional occupation question. Maybe something like: “I’m a receptionist, mom, nurse, librarian…but I moonlight as a writer.”

Calling ourselves a “writer” is never far from our vocabulary and we usually wear the title with pride. Unless you’re experiencing a day when you want to kick this expensive, but oh-so-therapeutic (depending on the day) habit to the curb.

You can’t stop being a writer anymore than you can stop breathing.

Even when you put your writing aside, you see the world differently—through the eyes of someone who knows story inside and out.

But the truth is, being a writer isn’t for everyone.

It’s hard work.

Tough, blood-letting, tear-inducing, hard work. You’ll suffer sleep deprivation, friends who misunderstanding your devotion, and struggles with fake people that insist on arguing back.

But I don’t need to tell you know this. Because there is 100% of a chance that if you’re reading this, you already know what I’m talking about.

So why do you write? Why do you put words on lined paper or a blank screen? Why do you invest in writer’s conferences, how-to books, and editorial work?

We all know it won’t pencil out financially in the end.

We don’t just do it because we’re in love with words. If that were the only case, we’d just stay home in our PJ’s and write in our evenings and weekends.

We do it because we’re following in our Savior’s footsteps. The greatest Man who has ever walked this earth and ever will walk this earth told story to communicate His point. He wove his words together to use story to reach the lost, the hurting, the broken, the thick-in-the-head (and let’s be honest, that’s all of us.)

When we tell a story, no matter how good or bad it is, we’re stepping closer to our Savior in a different way. That’s not to say we’re more special, important or spiritual than anyone else. (Heavens, no! Someone slap me if I ever go that far.)

But we have an opportunity to reach the lost, the hurting, the broken, the poor in spirit with the words of a story like our Savior did.

So partner with Him in that story-weaving process. Partner with Him to tell those around you why these words are so important to you.

And remember that truth on the days when the words are tight. The flow is blocked and the joy is gone.

Then go read one of Jesus’ parables and remind yourself why you call yourself a storyteller.

About the Author

Casey Herringshaw is a homeschool graduate and has been writing since high school. She is a rural Eastern Oregon transplant into the metropolis of Denver, now employed as an administrative assistant at Wordserve Literary and FaithHappenings.com. Taking the words and stories God has placed on her heart and putting them on paper is one of her greatest passions in life. Casey is a member of ACFW and their Carol Awards Coordinator. You can connect with her through her personal blog, Writing for Christ or her group writing related blog, The Writer's Alley.