I remember standing at an overlook in the mountains on a December night in 2006. I remember it was cold. Very cold. And though it made sense for me just to get back into the truck and turn the heat on, I couldn’t. I had to be outside with the stars and the wind. What I had to do couldn’t be done from inside the truck.
So I went ahead and built the fire. Walked down into the woods, found some rocks, dug a fire pit, and gathered kindling. I got the fire going despite the wind and tossed a few bigger sticks onto the pile. Cedar, I remember. I always liked the smell of burning cedar. And then I leaned back and half smiled and half didn’t, because it was all ready whether I wanted it to be or not.
I reached into my bag and pulled out a thick wad of paper bound by two rubber bands. I turned it over in my hands, watching the firelight dance against it.
Now, I thought…now.
But nothing happened. Whether it was the cold or God or the fabled spirits of the mountain, something had severed the connection between my head and my hands.
Failure seemed too bitter a word, so I decided it was all about letting go. About knowing how to as much as when to. The how was easy. I would burn it. That was the first thought that came to mind a few days before when I got the latest reply. The when, though? Not so easy. I thought for sure it would be that night, but I was having my doubts.
When you spend ten years of your life hanging onto a dream, it takes a lot out of you. You learn to get by on things like faith and hope and tenacity. You try to accustom yourself to blocking out the army of voices both within and without that scream you have no idea what you’re doing and therefore you shouldn’t even bother pretending anymore. It takes strength to endure more than it does talent.
I had the strength. The faith, too. Even had the hope and the tenacity. But something was still missing, and it was a big something. Something that seemed important enough that missing it brought me there in the mountains sitting in front of a fire, ready to incinerate five years of my life.
I was going to burn my manuscript. Release it into the ether once and more all and let its memory float away. I wanted to be done with my dream. I wanted to let go of it so it would let go of me.
I tried once more—
…now—
but I couldn’t, so I simply sat there in the cold and watched the flames dance.
This was not about letting go after all, I decided. No, it really was about failure.
I had pushed myself. Worked and tried and refused to give up, and still after all of that I had nothing to show for my life. It wasn’t that I was too weak to hang on or even too strong to let go. It was that I was stuck in the middle, wavering. A tough place to be. Maybe the toughest. But looking back I think that’s a place we all need to find ourselves at some point, if only so we can find out if our dreams are worthy of the people God calls us to be.
I was thinking about that night one day last week while I was looking over the Fall 2010-Winter 2011 catalog for my publisher, FaithWords. Not only was it pretty darn exciting to see my book on page nine, it was even more so to see they’ve used the cover art for Snow Day as the cover for the catalog. If you’d like, you can see it here.
My point?
My point is that in the end, your dreams are all on you. That means having the faith to see them through.
Having the hope to keep believing.
And it means forgiving yourself when you fail.
The compassion we’re called to show others is the very compassion we’re called to show ourselves. That alone is a source of divine strength.
That alone can move mountains.
I’m proof of that.
This post is part of the blog carnival on Compassion, hosted by Bridget Chumbley. To read more, please visit her site.
WOW! SO happy you didn’t let the fire consume your passion- and instead, allowed a force of nature to help build your platform and assist you in your positioning to catch the eye of the person that led you to where you are today.
SO many people giving up when possibly their answer or fulfillment of dreams are right around the corner.
Thrilled for you, Billy.
What a loss that would have been … and what a valid point you present.
The compassion we’re called to show others is the very compassion we’re called to show ourselves. That alone is a source of divine strength
Such beautifully written words… so grateful you didn’t give up, Billy.
This is going to be a story to tell come October.
Hoping you at least had a bag of marshmallows so the fire could ignite the gooey mess always clinging to the end of the stick. Glad you didn’t toss your words to the flames. I reckon you indeed are the proof and the inspiration a lot of us need.
Blessings.
You prepared the sacrifice. But then God provided. In a sense you did let go–of your dream so it could become God’s dream. And I am grateful.
Is that the manuscript that is becoming a book shortly? I’m so glad you weren’t able to do it then, Billy. Great story.
God knew how much that manuscript would bless so many others, me included. I’m so grateful that you didn’t let go. You have no idea….
Timely words as I sit in Fayetteville, Arkansas today chasing a dream. Thank you.
You’ve got this SO right.
But you did LET GO of something that night. You let go of your refusal to grieve.
I find that i get myself so frustrated and annoyed at myself when my dreams seem so out of reach. This post is just want i needed to remind myself to ease up on myself and show myself so compassion. I’m so glad you stayed strong, looking forward to reading your book x
Billy, you touch my heart and I am so, so proud of you! I checked out the catalog and WOW, you’re “hanging out” with some pretty impressive people these days!!! I hope you and your sweet family have a wonderful, relaxing time at the beach. Get some rest! Love you!
Billy,
Never underestimate how many people God speaks to using your words.
You inspire me, encourage me and point me back to Him, the only One Who can truly sustain us.
You make me want to be a better writer, and for that I am truly grateful.
Be blessed today, and be brave.
You fellow Joshua 1:9’r
Billy,
Your story is incredible. At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I’m going to say it again: You’re a great writer, Billy, mostly because you’re a great man. You see people, and are even willing to step back and see yourself with honest eyes. I so appreciate you, and it’s been pure joy watching from the sidelines since we first crossed paths back on our blogs in 2008. I’m incredibly proud of you, in a Godly pride sort of way. You rock, Billy Coffey. Way to go!
Billy, you have a great story, you know that? You’ve come so far. Thank you for taking us on the journey with you. God’s timing. God’s planning.
Write on, my friend.
So exciting! So glad you persevered.
Love, Jeanne
I’ve felt this way already and it’s early in the journey.
Good writing, as always.
Oh, Billy-boy, your Isaac has risen, the flames never touching it! Just as the Lord stayed the hand of Abraham from destroying the love of his life, He stayed your hand from destroying that which had been your passion, your love, your Isaac.
I know those feelings all too well. I am so thankful you have continued on and found your passion now gracing the cover of the catalog and placing you in a revered group of writers. I know the Lord has great plans for you. May He continue to bless you with encouragement for the journey of your life.
I’m reading for review purposes a little book about perseverance. What you write about is at the heart of this book. You exemplify it beautifully.
This message is so important for all of us – me, at this time, especially. I can’t wait to get my hands on this book, saved from the fire, in October. Just wow.
I’m glad you didn’t give up. I’m waiting anxiously for Snow Day (I even linked to it on my book list over at HCB–but it is a summer list…when?) You are an inspiration for me, Billy. Proud for you.
I love the thought that we have to show the same compassion to ourselves as we do others. I read a book once by Kary Overbruner called “The Fine Line”. He wrote that in order to love others we have to first love ourselves.” Thought that it was fitting here. Beautiful post Billy.
Been there…so very glad you didn’t burn it. It takes courage to stay the course and faith in the gift that God has given us.
Blessings,
Jay
That compassion for myself thing…yeah, I’m slow to doing that. Thank you, Mr. Coffey.
I haven’t thought about building a bonfire and incinerating my novels, but I have thought about throwing my computer out the window! So far I’ve controlled that impulse, but at times the dream still seems impossible. thanks for the encouragement to keep on keeping on.
I have several friends in the blogging community who have strived to get their manuscripts accepted for publication for some time and are so very close to giving up on their dreams. Rejection is always hard, even if from a complete stranger reading a brief summary of your pride and joy and making a snap decision simply based on that. So you are right, it is at such times that you really do have to have compassion for yourself and you have to as you say continue to believe in yourself.
Wonderful post – I am glad to hear that you did make it and you are as you say living proof that it is always worth continuing to pursue your dreams.
Aren’t you glad you didn’t burn that manuscript? You’ve come so far and you’re only getting better at your craft. I look forward to reading everything you write, and I know I’m not alone.
Some day, I want to be there when you are presented with some prestigious literary award, and I’m going to ask you to say those words to me that you know I never get tired of hearing:
Kathy, you were right.
Snort!
Only a writer can truly understand the struggle and the hesitancy and the fire and the years of dreaming and working hard and feeling like a flop, but you’re only a failure when you stop getting up again. I’m glad you got up and kept going.
I only know you through your writings here, but I can’t wait to read your book.
Wow. I’m so glad you didn’t.
What if someone burns it? What can a person do then?
I’d love to hear what it was that was missing. And how did you find it?
I’d love to hear it, ‘cuz I’m tempted to burn one.
Right about now…
Don’t do it Bonnie!!!
Billy, I want to hear “the rest of the story” (my Paul Harvey voice doesn’t translate on the screen) too.
I haven’t reached that point. My fear has continued to be taking that very first step. I’m not even worried about rejection. I’m more worried about acceptance. While at the same time, I’m indifferent to the whole thing on the Grand Scheme. Odd, I know. But that’s why I’d love to hear more of your story.
Thanks for sharing this.
I agree. So much easier to show compassion to others, and avoid kicking myself in the tail because I’ve determined that I’m less than perfect. Good way of expressing the whole issue. It’ll stick in my head/heart.
Billy, you speak to all of us who have been working on a book for years and years. After awhile it seems like one might as well hang it up. I know that feeling. Glad you didn’t give in to the urge and hung in there. May your book be a BIG success!