Life After Abuse: Living Small, Loving Large
Video Transcription
Hello again, I’m Laurie Tucker, author of What Odd Things I Thank You For: Discovering Grace in a Shattered Life.
I have a small life. I was a stay-at-home mom for my kids, which meant my identity was through them—Olivia’s mom, Mark’s mom. I am Chuck’s wife. Although I am proud of those titles, they do not create a full picture of who I am.
My husband has a big life—professor, administrator, known all over the world for his contributions to his field. His name dropped at conferences elicits an awed response.
I sometimes want to have a large life, too, and hoped that writing this book could be my defining moment, my crowning glory when people would say, “oh, you wrote that book. It’s changed my life.” I wanted Oprah somehow, miraculously, to come across a copy of my book and put it in her book club. Maybe even Dr. Phil would want me on his show.
The reality is that What Odd Things I Thank You For: Discovering Grace in a Shattered Life will likely have only a small impact on the world, as will my life. If it helps even a few people, I am deeply grateful. And that is enough.
But I can’t say I don’t sometimes struggle, thinking I need the book to be big, that I need to do everything that each publishing website says I must do to succeed. Here’s where the aftereffects of trauma kick in. I can’t travel to conferences to give talks and sell my books. I do give talks to very small groups in my hometown—doing that is sometimes difficult and at the same time, rewarding. Making cold calls, offering my book to non-profits, makes me so anxious I can hardly breathe.
When fear overwhelms me, when I believe that I will let down God, my husband, and the people who might need my book, when I see that I’ve spent so much money getting the book published and it will never be recouped, I go to my guides for help. Here is what they tell me:
“There are things you cannot know of how your book and the energy of it will move through the universe. You know it has helped one person—there will be others unknown to you. Trust none of it was wasted effort. Yours will not be a big splash, but your life touches many. Live small; love big—that is your life’s path. You are doing that.”
That advice is true for all of us. Our lives matter, whether large or small. The love we offer makes a difference, often in ways we cannot know. It is not the grandiose gestures that define us. The small things we do with love are often the ones people remember.
And isn’t that what Mother Teresa said—do small things with great love. My book is my small thing done with great love. I hope it helps.
I have a small life. I was a stay-at-home mom for my kids, which meant my identity was through them—Olivia’s mom, Mark’s mom. I am Chuck’s wife. Although I am proud of those titles, they do not create a full picture of who I am.
My husband has a big life—professor, administrator, known all over the world for his contributions to his field. His name dropped at conferences elicits an awed response.
I sometimes want to have a large life, too, and hoped that writing this book could be my defining moment, my crowning glory when people would say, “oh, you wrote that book. It’s changed my life.” I wanted Oprah somehow, miraculously, to come across a copy of my book and put it in her book club. Maybe even Dr. Phil would want me on his show.
The reality is that What Odd Things I Thank You For: Discovering Grace in a Shattered Life will likely have only a small impact on the world, as will my life. If it helps even a few people, I am deeply grateful. And that is enough.
But I can’t say I don’t sometimes struggle, thinking I need the book to be big, that I need to do everything that each publishing website says I must do to succeed. Here’s where the aftereffects of trauma kick in. I can’t travel to conferences to give talks and sell my books. I do give talks to very small groups in my hometown—doing that is sometimes difficult and at the same time, rewarding. Making cold calls, offering my book to non-profits, makes me so anxious I can hardly breathe.
When fear overwhelms me, when I believe that I will let down God, my husband, and the people who might need my book, when I see that I’ve spent so much money getting the book published and it will never be recouped, I go to my guides for help. Here is what they tell me:
“There are things you cannot know of how your book and the energy of it will move through the universe. You know it has helped one person—there will be others unknown to you. Trust none of it was wasted effort. Yours will not be a big splash, but your life touches many. Live small; love big—that is your life’s path. You are doing that.”
That advice is true for all of us. Our lives matter, whether large or small. The love we offer makes a difference, often in ways we cannot know. It is not the grandiose gestures that define us. The small things we do with love are often the ones people remember.
And isn’t that what Mother Teresa said—do small things with great love. My book is my small thing done with great love. I hope it helps.