“tell me,” the older gentleman, a regular at the shop said, stopping me in my tracks. “do you have stories inside you?” i looked at him, puzzled.
“do you have stories to tell?” he rephrased it. my eyes welled up with tears as the depth of this question hit me.
“yes,” i said quietly, but with confidence.
“then you have to write.”
i had to chuckle and stand in amazement of the timing and the Divinity of his question and challenge. i’ve wrestled for a great long while about what to do about writing. i’ve had many affirmations over the course of time, as well as this nagging itch, but still, i just can’t get a rhythm down, a discipline to subscribe to.
still, there is an increasing desire, even a necessity, to tell a story. and even deeper, to tell God’s stories, stories of redemption and hope. i have repeatedly felt a kinship recently with the story of Abraham and Sara (hence, some of the stories i’ve shared here) and looking beyond the literal details of events into the heart of the story, what they must have felt, how that connects and resonates with each of us, both as humans and followers of this mysterious God. if we can learn anything it will not just be that they obeyed or “walked out in faith,” but that they were scared shitless, faced uncertain futures with no promise of income or direction, believed against all reason in an unseen God….and obeyed anyway. walked boldly in faith anyway…
these are the stories that need to be told. for them, for God, for each of us.
“I just believe God’s story is about redemption,” i told another regular this morning when the asked about my tattoo. “and therefore our stories are about redemption.”