Earlier this week I met with five ladies who recently read Spiritual Misfit together as their book club selection. We sat around a large table in the back corner of the local Perkins. They bought me a slice of warm apple pie, and we drank decaf coffee, and we laughed; we laughed a whole lot, which, the ladies told me, is something they do often. They shared their favorite parts of the book — the infamous Cheez-It story, the buying-my-first-Bible story — and asked me some questions about the writing process, and the conversation meandered here and there as they shared bits and pieces of their own stories, too. We sat around that table in the back corner of Perkins for nearly two hours, and I tell you what, I could have stayed all night.
When I got home, I flopped onto the couch, kicked off my shoes and told my husband, “I needed that. That’s the part I always forget about.”
Spiritual Misfit sold three copies on Amazon last week. Three copies. I probably don’t need to tell you that’s abyssmal from a sales perspective.
But here’s the flip side, the part of the story I always forget: that piddly little number doesn’t tell the whole story. Not by a long shot. That dot graphed onto a long, plummeting line of diminishing sales doesn’t tell the story of five ladies laughing around a table in the back corner of Perkins. That number doesn’t tell the story of Julie’s copy of Spiritual Misfit, its pages festooned with no fewer than a dozen blue and yellow tabs, or the other Julie’s book, notes covering the inside back cover in tiny script. She’d read the book twice, she told me.
That plummeting graph on Amazon.com, that weekly sales report, is missing one critical, unplottable part of the story: the greater purpose.
I listened to an interview with the cellist Yo Yo Ma while I ran this morning, and among the many profoundly beautiful statements he made during the show was this observation, about what happens when something goes wrong logistically during a performance:
“Whatever you practice for on the engineering side that fails is all right, because we have a greater purpose. The greater purpose is that we’re communing together, and we want this moment to be really special for all of us. Because otherwise, why bother to have come at all? It’s not about how many people are in the hall. It’s not about proving anything.”
I let that statement ping around the inside of my head for a while as I plodded down the path. I thought about how Yo Yo Ma’s words relate to my own journey, both as a writer and a human being, and here’s where I ended up:
The “engineering side” of any pursuit – the planning, the practicing, the execution, the expectations, the numbers, the sales, the success — is important, but it’s not the whole story, it’s not the greater purpose. The greater purpose of Yo Yo Ma’s music, and my little book, and the dozens of other creations both large and small each one of us offers with open hands to the universe each day is in the communing, the coming together, that happens as a result.
Most of us don’t ever get to see that part. Yo Yo Ma probably doesn’t see it from his seat under the glaring lights on the stage. I don’t see it from my seat at my desk in the corner of the sunroom. Chances are, you don’t see the greater purpose of your work and your creation either, from wherever you sit right now. But that doesn’t mean it’s not there. That doesn’t mean it’s not happening.
Tuesday night I caught a glimpse of the greater purpose of my work, and it didn’t have anything to do with numbers or with proving anything, just as Yo Yo Ma said. Rather, it had everything to do with five ladies who gather around a table twice a month in the back corner of Perkins cafe.
Michelle, this is such an important post and so full of truth as well! I think that is something we all so often forget, that numbers don’t tell the whole story and that they aren’t the indicator of our worth. Not how many likes or followers we get, not the number of books sold. What matters is the purpose behind those numbers, the story that God is writing with all of this. It’s so easy to get discouraged because it really is difficult to see the greater purpose of our work.
Thank you for this great reminder that there is, in fact, a purpose even if I cannot see it. God bless you!
I love how you put that, Ronja: “the story that God is writing in all this.” I am such a control freak sometimes – I forget that God is at the helm. So thank you for reminding me of that – I need to hear it twenty times a day! 🙂
wow needed to read this today. Uplifting reminder!
Thanks for the reminder, dear friend! Wisdom to be pondered and ahaded!
Great reminder about purpose and connection – with everything we do. And for what it’s worth, my book sold a few copies last week and I did a little dance because it was more than the previous week. I look at other more successful writers, and often get discouraged. Even writing that sentence up there about being happy my book sold a few copies when others might be sad about that same number feels embarrassing and weak. But then I try to remind myself that there are people out there that just want to write a book in the first place. I guess it’s all about perspective and expectation management. Much love to you.
“Expectation management” — a key phrase, Christine. 🙂 I just emailed a friend and described myself as “grumbly grateful.” So yeah, I’m working on that. And yay for you – more books sold this week than last week is reason enough for a happy dance!
Thank you for writing this. Last week I sold no books. None. It’s a good week for me if I sell one, so I hear you on abysmal sales. I’ve had friends remind me that it’s still important work though small. I think of the economy of the Kingdom, how maybe it’s more about the hidden, the small. I think the Lord is lavish in his grace too. My book took years and years and expense as far as editing and learning my craft. Maybe all that is for one or two or twenty people and that’s it.
Here’s my meditation on this same subject that you might enjoy reading: http://katieandraski.com/meditation-success/
Thank you for your honesty.
I am going to be pondering that for a good long while, Katie: the economy of the Kingdom. It’s so true…everything Jesus emphasizes is the opposite of huge and worldly and successful – I was just reading the beautitudes this morning, and the message of small and lowly is so prominent throughout that whole text. That, combined with your insightful comment here, is really speaking to me this morning, so that you so much for that.
I will pop over to read your post today – thank you for sharing the link. Blessings and peace, friend.
Beautifully said Michelle! A reminder to ALL of us, that whatever God has called us to do, that we are making a difference that sometimes cannot be measured in numbers or outcomes. So often we never see or hear the impact we have, what a blessing that you were gifted with that opportunity this week. Not knowing, that is what faith is all about, believing in what you cannot see.
I love this post, Michelle! It dovetails perfectly (and more eloquently!) with my latest post about building bridges rather than focusing on “stats.”
The part about the communing, about the unseen — you’re onto something. Like the little bit of yeast hidden in a lump of dough…
It isn’t about the numbers, it’s about the hearts we touch and the joy we bring even if it’s only to a few souls at a time. That’s how I feel about my writing and will continue to do it whether I ever see huge “success” or not. Love and blessings, Michelle!
I bought 6 copies before Christmas and gave them to my group. Everyone agreed, this book is profound and encouraging to struggling Christians, and who is not struggling? You have fulfilled your higher purpose.
What a beautiful post — so true. I know enough people making good money but have no soul purpose. Purpose fuels the heart and soul who could live without this? I love the intimacy of your evening, how your book touched a small group of women in significant ways. It reminded me of the old times when a few gathered around a hearth to share their stories. You received what Amazon couldn’t give. And in this day of computers, internet relationships, you had the gem of interpersonal relating..and your book drew these women near.
Ahem….What have I been telling you, Michelle? 🙂 Seriously, you have no idea where God will wing your words, into what heart they will land to make an indelible difference, to fulfill a greater purpose. I keep thinking it’s not about numbering, but remembering—remembering the joy of just writing and shaping words and concepts, remembering the exhilaration of crafting story, remembering that we are partnering with God to impart truth and what a privilege that is, remembering that He cares about individual than the masses (in the sense I think we sometimes number), remembering that His ways are not ours, remembering that we can’t always see the affect our writing has (so in truth, we really have no idea how many are reading it and being changed by it), remembering that God is faithful both to us and our readers and He will not prevent one person from reading our books who needs to read them, remembering that He promises to fulfill His purposes in us until the day we die. Oh goodness I could go on and on. Please KNOW that I am saying this to myself as much as to you or anyone reading here. I’m myopic I live in a cave. I’ve gotten extremely discouraged over my writing career. But even eleven years after my passion book was published (and even though it didn’t sell nearly as many as the first two), God will drop some lady’s email into my inbox (actually about a month ago), and tells me that because of Love Letters to God, she relates to God more intimately and it has dramatically changed her prayer life (and a couple of men have said the same). Because of Spiritual Misfit, some lady who thought she could never relate to God because she did not fit the cookie-cutter Christian mold, will be irrevocably changed and encouraged. Michelle, I’m so glad that God gave you a little glimpse of glory (we so need encouragement that is tangible). What more glorious thing is there for a person to know that her greater purpose is being fulfilled by lives she sees changed, and not by numbers of books sold. One lady who takes SM to heart is worth more than a thousand who might skim it and move on. I’m so happy for you today!
Love
Lynn
Lynn, that is so beautiful! So well said and nourishing to hear as I just launched a blog for God’s purpose and feel like a lone voice in the wilderness! Thank you!
Perfectly and beautifully said, dear Michelle. Every once in a while, I’ll get an unsolicited email or comment that says something like, “Thank you. Your words helped me when I needed help.” And that is what makes all the rest of it worthwhile, at least for me. Your book is beautiful and funny and poignant and true. Thank you for it.
Thank you for your honesty. I am thankful that God reminded you of his love as you met with the book club.
Michelle. I loved this! Years ago I had a blog called Yellow Shoe Day, back when we were all just discovering blogging. I know you and I even emailed a few times and I always enjoyed your perspective. I moved and started a whole new life and haven’t been blogging or active online in several years. I was delighted today to look you up, to read your thoughts on the significance of our work, and to see how much you have done over the past years. I will be ordering your book! I will enjoy going back through your site to catch up. Your words were timely today because I have been mulling around the idea of a new blog but have been wondering “who will care?” and “what’s the point if only 5 people are reading it?” You have given me inspiration. Thank you!
Michelle, so beautifully put. I know God weaves the tapestry of my greater purpose in a way I will never fully understand, and you reminded me to look at the front side of it – not the engineering, busy, frenetic, threads-everywhere back side. I had to sit for a moment after I read this, just being quiet. You will never see the total impact of your work, Michelle, but I know with prose like that, more and more will see, and be inspired.