Everybody Has a Story Worth Telling
About a week ago, I started reading this fiction book about a woman who has spent her whole life making up stories about her past, most of which are pretty fantastic. As she is dying, she decides to tell her real story. At one point, she tells the girl who is there with her that everyone has a story and that it is one worth telling and you have to put words to those stories or they just die. It has been weighing on my heart as I've been mulling it over. Do I have a story to tell?
I've spent most of my life thus far thinking I didn't have much of a story to tell. I haven't done much and don't have too many plans for my future. I've just kind of existed, I felt like. That is, until this morning at church. I'm not even sure why it came up in my mind because the pastor was talking about the man with the withered hand, but anyway. A few months ago, a friend of mine said that maybe sometimes people don't share with us their hurts and struggles because we don't share ours. It is easy to let other people talk, but it is completely different when we have to talk about ourselves. I think many of us desire to love people well and help them. We want them to be vulnerable, to open up and share their struggle, but most won't. Maybe they hesitate because they feel like you have it all together because you present a really pretty exterior. (It isn't necessarily intentional, so don't get offended or anything.) To that person who is struggling, it seems like you have no struggles, no sin, no issues with relationships or addictions. You are just perfect. So why would they feel comfortable talking about their broken and messy life. Clearly, you couldn't relate.
Maybe we need to be willing to be vulnerable just as we want them to be. Maybe we have to show others that we don't have it altogether (not even slightly). We are human, too. Maybe the reason you don't share is because you are ashamed. Don't be! Jesus came to free you from the bondage of your past, your struggles. Instead of seeing those issues as something to shame you, look at it as a way to share the redemption, the healing, the forgiveness, grace, and hope of Jesus! Then you can share that hope with others through sharing that story of yours. Good or bad, each piece is part of your beautiful, patchwork life. The Lord is going to use your story.
Perhaps you are still struggling with parts of your story. Something from your past, or maybe even your present. You haven't talked to many people about it, maybe. Sometimes there are things that don't need to be shared with many people, and that's okay. But most of the time, I think we could benefit from telling other people. In fact, the Bible says it! Revelation 12 says that we overcome by the blood of the Lamb and the word of our testimony. So not only does the blood of Jesus help us to overcome, but also us sharing our stories!! The enemy wants nothing more than for us to keep our past to ourselves, buried deep, so no one hears any part, even the good. But why would we not want to share what the Lord has done? To offer praise and worship to Him through it? I think maybe part of it is a fear of judgment. What will people think of me if they know my story? If they know what I did (or what was done to me)? I do understand that fear. It is scary being open and vulnerable. And maybe people will think of you differently. And some will judge you even. But think of who may need to hear that story you have to tell. Think of who many be experiencing the same things and thinking they are completely and totally alone. Think of who needs that hope that Jesus is there and things will be okay.
Recently I have been walking through a very difficult season, one that I was not willing to share with many people. I was ashamed. I felt weak and stupid and ridiculous. Why would I admit that? Why would I share that? Then I thought to myself,well I can't share now. But perhaps when I'm on the other side, completely free and healed and redeemed. When the story is complete, I can share. But the Lord has been impressing something different on my heart. This morning I felt like I needed to share. Believe me, this is not something easy or normal for me. I don't just share my life details with people (especially not over social media), but maybe someone needs to hear this story now (even if it is only partway through)....
This year has been a very interesting one for me. It started off with my sister going to Uganda in January and chasing a dream she had been praying about for years. I was thrilled for her, but sad to see her go, especially knowing she would be gone for six months. Being one of my best friends, I didn't know what I would do without her. But it proved to be a chance for me to start finding who I was as an individual. It was good. The summer was pretty uneventful after Karissa came home. I just worked and tried to keep up with life, though it was good. Enter September and things started changing fast. School was a nightmare. I was more stressed than I had ever been and I was barely keeping up. I was having relationship troubles and my emotions were all over the place. Level one day and plummeting the next. My heart was hurting deeply. People were leaving my life and people were entering for the first time and I couldn't handle it. Over the past two years or so I have struggled with anxiety, but it was worse than ever before. Sometimes my anxiety attacks would last for hours at a time. Pressure would build up in my chest and I couldn't breathe. Every noise sounded ten times louder and I would get so overwhelmed I didn't know what to do. The it got worse. I couldn't see anything positive in my life no matter how much I tried. I kept going to church, kept reading my Bible and praying, but nothing seemed to change. I was completely unhappy, felt like a total failure, and I felt utterly and completely alone. For weeks I had a gnawing in my chest unlike anything I had ever felt before. It was physically painful. I felt hopeless and I had no idea what to do about it. The world felt like it was caving in on me and I could do anything to change it. For weeks the Lord had been telling me what the problem was, but I had been ignoring it. Surely that couldn't be it. Then I had some people who love me very much come to me, very concerned. They suggested that I struggled with depression. I denied it. Hard. Surely I couldn't be depressed. I wasn't suicidal. And I loved Jesus and I was doing my best, but I couldn't ignore the fact that something just wasn't right. I laid in bed and cried for hours, wrestling with myself about what to do. But in the back of my mind, I knew that it was right. The Lord had told me so. I was depressed, though I couldn't exactly pinpoint why. Over the next several hours and days, my journal was filled with cries to the Lord to take it away, to make it better. I had to talk myself into getting out of bed and sometimes make myself eat. And I knew something needed to be done or things would only keep getting worse and I knew I couldn't handle it if they did. I made an appointment to see a doctor. He listened and asked questions. He told me it wasn't uncommon for depression and anxiety to be coupled together. Nor was it anything to be ashamed about. Most people struggle with depression, though it goes un-diagnosed or people just refuse to talk about it. This was only a week and a half ago (Though it feels like a lifetime ago). Things aren't perfect, but they are getting better. I have people who love and support me, people who pray for me, and a Savior who loves me like no one ever could. The Lord has shown me that depression and anxiety are nothing to be ashamed of. I don't have to hide in a corner, covered with a blanket, until it goes away. I don't have to pretend like everything is okay. My only job is to look at His face. I'm far from where I want to be, but I know there is hope in Jesus. He has a plan for my future. A good one. And He has given me promises to cling to in my darkest moments. I'm thankful that He takes care of me and loves me and never forsakes me. I'm thankful that He gave wisdom to doctors to create medicine that helps ground me. I'm thankful that He understands my anxiety and panics. I'm thankful that He is showing me, every day, the beauty in my mess. And I may be in the middle of my story, but it is still a story worth telling.
So what's your story? Who needs to hear it? I challenge you to write it out for yourself and then consider sharing it. With someone when you go to coffee. On your own blog. An email. Some other form of social media. I don't know what that looks like for you. Pray about it and let the Holy Spirit tell you. Just know that there is freedom in sharing what the Lord has done and is doing, for you and others who hear.
I've spent most of my life thus far thinking I didn't have much of a story to tell. I haven't done much and don't have too many plans for my future. I've just kind of existed, I felt like. That is, until this morning at church. I'm not even sure why it came up in my mind because the pastor was talking about the man with the withered hand, but anyway. A few months ago, a friend of mine said that maybe sometimes people don't share with us their hurts and struggles because we don't share ours. It is easy to let other people talk, but it is completely different when we have to talk about ourselves. I think many of us desire to love people well and help them. We want them to be vulnerable, to open up and share their struggle, but most won't. Maybe they hesitate because they feel like you have it all together because you present a really pretty exterior. (It isn't necessarily intentional, so don't get offended or anything.) To that person who is struggling, it seems like you have no struggles, no sin, no issues with relationships or addictions. You are just perfect. So why would they feel comfortable talking about their broken and messy life. Clearly, you couldn't relate.
Maybe we need to be willing to be vulnerable just as we want them to be. Maybe we have to show others that we don't have it altogether (not even slightly). We are human, too. Maybe the reason you don't share is because you are ashamed. Don't be! Jesus came to free you from the bondage of your past, your struggles. Instead of seeing those issues as something to shame you, look at it as a way to share the redemption, the healing, the forgiveness, grace, and hope of Jesus! Then you can share that hope with others through sharing that story of yours. Good or bad, each piece is part of your beautiful, patchwork life. The Lord is going to use your story.
Perhaps you are still struggling with parts of your story. Something from your past, or maybe even your present. You haven't talked to many people about it, maybe. Sometimes there are things that don't need to be shared with many people, and that's okay. But most of the time, I think we could benefit from telling other people. In fact, the Bible says it! Revelation 12 says that we overcome by the blood of the Lamb and the word of our testimony. So not only does the blood of Jesus help us to overcome, but also us sharing our stories!! The enemy wants nothing more than for us to keep our past to ourselves, buried deep, so no one hears any part, even the good. But why would we not want to share what the Lord has done? To offer praise and worship to Him through it? I think maybe part of it is a fear of judgment. What will people think of me if they know my story? If they know what I did (or what was done to me)? I do understand that fear. It is scary being open and vulnerable. And maybe people will think of you differently. And some will judge you even. But think of who may need to hear that story you have to tell. Think of who many be experiencing the same things and thinking they are completely and totally alone. Think of who needs that hope that Jesus is there and things will be okay.
Recently I have been walking through a very difficult season, one that I was not willing to share with many people. I was ashamed. I felt weak and stupid and ridiculous. Why would I admit that? Why would I share that? Then I thought to myself,well I can't share now. But perhaps when I'm on the other side, completely free and healed and redeemed. When the story is complete, I can share. But the Lord has been impressing something different on my heart. This morning I felt like I needed to share. Believe me, this is not something easy or normal for me. I don't just share my life details with people (especially not over social media), but maybe someone needs to hear this story now (even if it is only partway through)....
This year has been a very interesting one for me. It started off with my sister going to Uganda in January and chasing a dream she had been praying about for years. I was thrilled for her, but sad to see her go, especially knowing she would be gone for six months. Being one of my best friends, I didn't know what I would do without her. But it proved to be a chance for me to start finding who I was as an individual. It was good. The summer was pretty uneventful after Karissa came home. I just worked and tried to keep up with life, though it was good. Enter September and things started changing fast. School was a nightmare. I was more stressed than I had ever been and I was barely keeping up. I was having relationship troubles and my emotions were all over the place. Level one day and plummeting the next. My heart was hurting deeply. People were leaving my life and people were entering for the first time and I couldn't handle it. Over the past two years or so I have struggled with anxiety, but it was worse than ever before. Sometimes my anxiety attacks would last for hours at a time. Pressure would build up in my chest and I couldn't breathe. Every noise sounded ten times louder and I would get so overwhelmed I didn't know what to do. The it got worse. I couldn't see anything positive in my life no matter how much I tried. I kept going to church, kept reading my Bible and praying, but nothing seemed to change. I was completely unhappy, felt like a total failure, and I felt utterly and completely alone. For weeks I had a gnawing in my chest unlike anything I had ever felt before. It was physically painful. I felt hopeless and I had no idea what to do about it. The world felt like it was caving in on me and I could do anything to change it. For weeks the Lord had been telling me what the problem was, but I had been ignoring it. Surely that couldn't be it. Then I had some people who love me very much come to me, very concerned. They suggested that I struggled with depression. I denied it. Hard. Surely I couldn't be depressed. I wasn't suicidal. And I loved Jesus and I was doing my best, but I couldn't ignore the fact that something just wasn't right. I laid in bed and cried for hours, wrestling with myself about what to do. But in the back of my mind, I knew that it was right. The Lord had told me so. I was depressed, though I couldn't exactly pinpoint why. Over the next several hours and days, my journal was filled with cries to the Lord to take it away, to make it better. I had to talk myself into getting out of bed and sometimes make myself eat. And I knew something needed to be done or things would only keep getting worse and I knew I couldn't handle it if they did. I made an appointment to see a doctor. He listened and asked questions. He told me it wasn't uncommon for depression and anxiety to be coupled together. Nor was it anything to be ashamed about. Most people struggle with depression, though it goes un-diagnosed or people just refuse to talk about it. This was only a week and a half ago (Though it feels like a lifetime ago). Things aren't perfect, but they are getting better. I have people who love and support me, people who pray for me, and a Savior who loves me like no one ever could. The Lord has shown me that depression and anxiety are nothing to be ashamed of. I don't have to hide in a corner, covered with a blanket, until it goes away. I don't have to pretend like everything is okay. My only job is to look at His face. I'm far from where I want to be, but I know there is hope in Jesus. He has a plan for my future. A good one. And He has given me promises to cling to in my darkest moments. I'm thankful that He takes care of me and loves me and never forsakes me. I'm thankful that He gave wisdom to doctors to create medicine that helps ground me. I'm thankful that He understands my anxiety and panics. I'm thankful that He is showing me, every day, the beauty in my mess. And I may be in the middle of my story, but it is still a story worth telling.
So what's your story? Who needs to hear it? I challenge you to write it out for yourself and then consider sharing it. With someone when you go to coffee. On your own blog. An email. Some other form of social media. I don't know what that looks like for you. Pray about it and let the Holy Spirit tell you. Just know that there is freedom in sharing what the Lord has done and is doing, for you and others who hear.
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