It Wasn’t Me That Won. Not Really.

Monday afternoon I won a Christy Award for my novel, THE FIVE TIMES I MET MYSELF. (If you’re not familiar with the Christy’s, it’s the Christian Fiction equivalent of the Oscars.) And I didn’t win one Christy, I won two. First in the Visionary category, then Book of the Year—which I suppose is something like winning Best Picture.

Crazy cool. Stunned me to win. So deeply honored. But here’s the twist. I didn’t
win. Not really.

My name is on the cover of the book. But so many other names should be there
alongside mine. Three of those names? Amanda Bostic, Erin Healy, Darci Rubart.

Amanda Bostic

My editor. When I finished the first version of my manuscript and sent it in,
Amanda wrote back and said, “Jim, it’s so hard to tell you this, but what you’ve
written isn’t going to work. We’re going to have to start over. There’s a better
book than this one inside you.”

I was devastated. But she was right. Oh how she was right. So I wrote the book
again, 90 percent of it new. Amanda and I are friends. Would have been easier
for her to say, “Yeah, okay we’ll work with it.” But she didn’t. She spoke the
truth.

Erin Healy

My freelance editor. When she finished reading the new manuscript she said,
“Love what you’ve done, but can I make a suggestion? I think you need to take
the final chapters of the book in a completely different direction.”

What? Are you kidding? No, she wasn’t. But again, something was seen I wasn’t
able to see. Erin’s changes? Brilliant.

Did I want to rewrite five chapters? No. Was it the right thing to do? Without
question. (See opening sentences of this post.)

Darci Rubart My wife. My counselor. Encourager. Supporter. Confidant. The one who talked me off the ledge countless times. Brainstorming partner. (The original idea for THE FIVE TIMES I MET MYSELF came from her.) First reader of scenes. I could go on, but you get it. No Darci? No book. My Point

You’re probably already ahead of me.

Whatever we’re doing, whether it’s writing novels, or raising kids, or teaching,
or leading a group, or part of the PTA ... we can’t do it alone. No project is a
solo effort. Never. We need people in our lives who will challenge us, support
us, believe in us, speak truth to us, encourage us to be better than we thought
we could be.

Our part? We need to listen. Be willing to change. Sometimes drop our pride and
be willing to receive help. We are not an island. Won’t work. Ever. Yeah, I’m
saying we desperately need the body of Christ.

And if we are willing, those people can guide us onto a glorious path we never
imagined we’d travel.