Divine Backbone by Emily Owen

A while ago, someone posted in the ACW group about a programme called A Secret History of Writing. I’m afraid I can’t remember who it was, but thank you to them for flagging it up.

I finally got round to watching the programme, and I found it interesting to see how writing was birthed and developed. Do watch the programme if you can, I’ll only say one thing about its content in this blog: spines.

Early books were written on animal skins. The skins would be flayed, soaked in water, and then stretched into a ‘page’.

When the skin was hanging up to settle into shape after being stretched, the presenter pointed out a faint line that ran down the middle of the skin. This was where the animal’s spine had been, and would be the fold in the page. In other words, the part of the book we call the spine.

Spines are important. They hold everything together in our bodies, as well as books, enabling us to function. Our backbones literally run through the core of us.

I suspect most of us don’t give our spines much thought. I know I didn’t until, some years ago, my spine stopped doing its job properly. A tumour was squashing it out of place, resulting in pain, which I resolutely ignored, and - as the tumour grew - inability to walk properly. I developed an unusual limping gait, sort of rolling my leg into a step rather than simply swinging it forward.

The tumour (which has now been removed) was making it difficult – even impossible - for my spine to do its job. It pushed the spine out.

As I watched A Secret History of Writing, and saw that the term ‘spine of a book’ derives from backbone, I coupled it with my knowledge - both theoretical and literal - of the importance of the body’s spine/backbone.

Where’s your backbone?

Put your backbone into it!

The term ‘Backbone’ has come to mean strength. 

What is the backbone of our writing? Or should I say, Who?

I doubt many of us write on parchment made of skin these days but, as we write something that will one day be bound, book-like, with a spine – whether literally or with a ‘spine’ of a blog, article, etc – are we aware that we have a ‘Backbone God’ who holds our writing together?

Perhaps, when we start writing our book or our blog, we have an awareness of God, but we lose that conscious recognition of Him as the writing flows.

And then perhaps our writing begins to hurt. Inspiration stops. The writing of yesterday seems rubbish today. Our writing begins to limp. And we grit our teeth, and carry on anyway, perhaps forgetting to check our Backbone.

Before I go any further, I’d just like to emphasise that I do not think that any time we have difficulty in writing, it’s because we’ve forgotten to focus on God. I know for myself that is not the case. I also know that, for me, it is sometimes the case.

In not checking with our Backbone, as I ignored my body-backbone, we might be unaware that ‘tumour-equivalents’ are pushing it out.

When I wrote my memoir, Still Emily, I knew exactly how I wanted to start, but I wasn’t sure how to finish. I tried different things, and nothing seemed right, so I tried again. And again. In the end, I said to God, ‘I don’t know how to do this,’ and He replied, ‘Have you asked Me?’

I hadn’t. I’d been letting my efforts, and trying, and maybe desperation, push my Backbone out.

'I can do all things through him who gives me strength.'

Philippians 4:13

Many years ago, I was given the following card, printed with a prayer written by David Adams. I still have it stuck on my bathroom mirror. I received the card long before I wrote Still Emily, so clearly I don’t live in full remembrance of its words every day, but it’s a good prayer to pray. 

As we pray it, we'll be reminded of our Refuge and Strength (Ps 46:1). 

Our God. 

Our Divine Backbone.