Telling Your Story Is the Best Way to Witness
But there is one more important reason to recognize and write stories. Our stories are one of the best ways we have to witness without presumption to the “mighty acts of God.” Jesus asked his disciples to be his witnesses. “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth” (Acts 1:8). He was really asking them to be His storytellers. Through the careful writing and telling of our stories, we shift a story about “me,” and use it as a testimony that demonstrates God’s intimate role in the life of people. Our stories remind the listener that God is actively pursuing every human on earth. His pursuit transcends religion, nationality, and race. That pursuit is a moment-by-moment process with significant events occurring at unforeseen and unpredictable times. The most spiritual people of the world may arguably be those who carefully build a structure in their life that heightens their awareness of God’s interaction in their life.
Some of the best of life is lost because important experiences are not recognized, are not written, and are not retold. If you don’t think your story is important enough to write and tell, then you have missed so much of what God has been trying to share with you. Your story is a LOVE STORY about God’s love for you. You cannot predict the importance of one of your stories. Erin Morgenstern wrote in The Night Circus, “You may tell a tale that takes up residence in someone’s soul, becomes their blood and self and purpose. That tale will move them and drive them and who knows what they might do because of it, because of your words. That is your role, your gift.”1
It is my hope people hearing or reading my stories will be motivated to write and tell their stories. Everyone is a storyteller. Some are just better than others. Think about how many times you say or hear, “I remember,” “You should have been there,” or “Now listen to this.” Those are phrases that indicate the speaker is about to weave a tale of one sort or another.
I used to play a game with my grandchildren in order to tell my stories. I called it “Truth or Fiction.” I would weave a tale and then ask them to guess if it was true or fictitious. This game excited their interest while allowing me to testify to many of the “mighty acts” of God in my life or expose them to some of our family lore. I hoped some of the stories would be etched in their minds and that some of them would take up the family tradition of storytelling.
Our life is a series of moments. They follow one after another in endless succession. A series of moments make an experience. It is fair to say that most moments are hardly discernable and seldom processed. Brief experiences only provide a small effect on our life and are then filed in our subconscious and eventually forgotten. However, important transformational experiences impact our life in one way or another in terms of who we are as a person. As Sue Monk Kidd wrote in the Secret Life of Bees, “Stories have to be told or they die, and when they die, we can’t remember who we are or why we’re here.” The sum of our experiences determines who we are.
We begin to understand why we act the way we act when we retrace our life to identify transformational moments and how we responded to them. It is like walking backward with a personal characteristic in hand trying to find the place or moment where we picked it up. Transitional moments can be negative experiences such as the premature loss of a parent that drove us into a responsibility for our family that we certainly didn’t want or expect. Or, on the positive side, they can be the special attention given by a teacher that birthed our positive self-concept. Every moment carries the potential for a positive or negative impact upon life, but only a few really make dramatic and immediate changes. Most of my writing focuses on such transitions whether serious or humorous.