PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL

When I run out of ideas for writing topics I have certain people I go to for inspiration, and my sister, Martha, is one of them. When I called her today looking for suggestions for this blog, she asked me to write about when we were in the draft stages of Counting Spoons. She’s made this same suggestion several times before, but I kept ignoring it because I felt like I would be exposing my sometimes irrational way of thinking, and then I remembered that anyone who is reading this blog has probably also read Counting Spoons, so it’s a little late to worry about what people will think of me. Ha!

As Martha and I talked through her topic suggestion, the light finally came on—Martha only wanted me to share this story so I could show my transformation in Christ, and I’m all about that, so here goes…

If you didn’t know I wrote Counting Spoons from the beautiful Big Island of Hawaii, now you do. We lived there for several years when my husband was working for a coffee farm. I know it’s not all about me, but I felt like God picked me up, plopped me down on an island away from all distractions, and told me to write, and write I did. That first year in Kona all I did was write. I would get up early, see my husband off to work, take care of any business, and then write for hours and hours and hours—our story was pouring out of me.

I did everything backwards. I wrote before doing any research about how you even begin to write a book, and I knew nothing about the publishing process. I had to google genres to try and figure out what I was writing! I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, but God was leading. Through every twist and turn of this writing journey, He was leading the way.

Here’s where it gets weird. Or I should say, here’s when I got weird.

I was not comfortable letting my husband read any of my work until the first draft was complete—I was literally sitting on a plane heading back to the mainland leaving him to read my manuscript from all the way across the ocean. I was a nervous wreck knowing he was reading it! His response was amazing, but he was surprised by some of the detail that I hadn’t shared with him before. I didn’t back then, but now I understand his surprise. I wrote a book about all we went through when I hadn’t even shared the details with my loved ones. Weird, right?

After the draft was done, I needed to find an editor. A friend referred me, and I ended up signing a contract with a professional, trusted Christian editor, and then he asked me to email him my manuscript.

I hesitated.

“You mean, just… email it to you?”

The idea of emailing our story to a total stranger had my heart racing.

He responded politely, asking what other options I was considering in getting my manuscript to him. I didn’t tell him what I was thinking, thank God, because he would have thought I had lost my mind. The truth is, I envisioned sending him a hard copy double wrapped in envelopes, placed inside a box with enough shipping tape to challenge even a sharp pocketknife, with a big red CONFIDENTIAL stamp on every side of the package.

Instead of saying all that, I took a deep breath and responded like a normal person...

“Ok. I’ll email it to you tomorrow.”

It took everything I had to email that manuscript. I remember my hands shaking when I hit send, and I had a tough time sleeping that night.

Again, I didn’t know what I was doing but God was leading, and I trusted Him completely.

Another act of God—turns out my sister, Martha, is an editor. I am not kidding! Maybe she’s just my editor, but she’s a good one. Never in a million years would Counting Spoons have been written if I didn’t have Martha. We worked together during that entire year I was writing. We communicated back and forth in daily text messages, emails, and phone calls. I wrote, she read, gave me feedback, and I would re-write it until we both loved it. It was a brilliant system that worked well except that every time I sent the emails to her, the subject line would say something like this…

“PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL TO BE READ BY MARTHA COPRA ONLY – PLEASE DELETE WHEN DONE”

There were different versions of the warning, but the message was always the same. It was as if we were handling classified documents from the FBI or something. I always used caps, a bold font, and I think I may have included some legal terminology saying that if somehow the email reached the wrong person they would be in trouble if they read it. Sometimes I even asked for proof that she deleted the prior draft before I would send another. I did the same thing when I sent parts of my writing to my sons Justin and Dillon, and my friend Cindy. It finally got to the point where Martha said if I kept up with the “private and confidential” warnings she wasn’t going to help me anymore. She was kidding—kind of. I imagine it was getting a bit annoying for her, but at the time, I thought I was being totally reasonable. I’m not sure what I thought was going to happen but I was afraid of someone getting their hands on our book and reading it.

You might be wondering why on earth I wrote a book if just the thought of others reading our story terrified me—it’s a good question. One I’ve asked myself a hundred times.

That’s where God comes in.

He wasn’t calling me to be comfortable.

He was calling me to be vulnerable—to lay bare my soul so others would find hope.

He wanted us to tell the world about our darkest times so they would understand the power of His love.

That hit home for me. As difficult as it was, and sometimes still is, I wanted others to find hope in Christ. His hands were all over this journey—He lined everything up perfectly for me to write. You’ve heard of people feeling called? That’s the best way for me to describe it. I felt a calling from God to write our story and tell everyone that would listen who Jesus is and how He saved us.

This call of obedience took a while to sink in, but when I took my eyes off myself and all my insecurities long enough to see how it might bless others, I understood. There was no turning back. I was all in!

The truth is, for most of my adult life I would not have shared anything with you unless you were in my close, small, circle. I was very private. I wouldn’t tell you my favorite color much less the struggles my family was facing.

But God changed all that.

God changed everything in my life—how I see the world and the people in it has shifted completely. I am beyond grateful.

When my son was in his addiction, I isolated. I didn’t talk to anyone about what we were dealing with and that wasn’t healthy for me. If I have suffering ahead, I know I will manage it differently. I still honor and respect privacy, but through this experience I’ve learned that community is important. God never intended for us to walk alone; we need people. We need love and guidance and support as we go through life. Nobody should walk through their struggles alone.

Readers have shared that our story has given them hope, forgiveness, compassion, an understanding of the power of addiction, and it helped readers get a sense of what families affected by addiction go through. All those things are amazing and more than we had ever hoped for, but no one has been blessed more than me. Turns out exposing your heart and your deepest pain leads to healing. To God be the Glory!

Also, to my husband, my sister Martha, my sons Justin and Dillon, my friend Cindy, and anyone else that got my paranoid highly confidential email warnings – sorry about all that nonsense. #oopsie