Recently, I had the opportunity to tell a story. I don’t mind telling it because it’s ultimately God’s story, but it’s not an easy story to speak and not one to share here on the blog. Do you have one of those stories? Do you have a story that tenses your jaw, tightens your chest, and catches your breath when you speak it?
Over the years, the telling has become easier. God’s grace, time, soul work, and growth in depending on and trusting in the Lord has a way of transforming the gnarled, tattered remains of a soul stripped bare into fertile, blossoming fruitfulness. It’s all because of grace.
As I relayed my story this last time, I noticed some things—my jaw wasn’t as tense, my chest wasn’t tight, and my breath didn’t catch. Thank you, Jesus.
The other thing I noticed was a fresh desire to revisit the event and explore the ravaged landscape of the narrative for more evidence of God. Do you have a story that leaves a corner of your soul war-torn and barren? Who wants to go back and visit that, right?
I had a conversation with a friend a while back when we were talking about these kinds of stories—the stories that irrevocably change us, stories we don’t want to retell and definitely don’t want to relive. We talked about the grand possibilities in bravely going back to that war-torn, barren place and looking with new eyes. We recalled how lands that have been ravaged by war and left barren still produce life. When revisited, those places have produced beautiful flowers where there was nothing but debris, life where there was death. We see God, who has been there all along and is still creating and sustaining.
God is in our stories.
I want to get better at telling all of my stories with God at the center. Each time I retell a story, I want God to be bigger—bigger than the circumstances, bigger than my responses, bigger than my weaknesses, bigger than the other people involved, and bigger than the outcomes.
Wouldn’t that be supernaturally incredible?
The great news is that we don’t have to drum this stuff up ourselves. We don’t have to beat ourselves up because it’s hard and painful and scary to tell the story again. We don’t have to pretend that our soul is healed from hurt or trauma. We don’t have to condemn ourselves because we should be “over it” by now. We don’t have to!
We have a powerful, fearless God who was with us in the furnace (Daniel 30). We have a tender, loving God who walks with us through the valley of the shadow of death (Psalm 23:4). We have a strong God who turns our valley of weeping into a spring (Psalm 84: 5-7).
We can revisit our stories with new eyes and see our God who was there then and who has been there since. He is the one who blossoms new growth in our souls, and he is the one who helps us see that He is the biggest character in our stories. As he becomes bigger, brighter, and more beautiful to us, our stories become easier to tell and we will, by miraculous grace, be able to speak the words of Mary, who said, “My soul exalts the Lord, and my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior. For He has had regard for the humble state of His bondslave…For the Mighty One has done great things for me” (Luke 1:46-49 NASB).
(Note: Some of our more difficult stories benefit from the help and support offered by pastors and biblical counselors, who can help us revisit them safely, keeping the gospel central. Our pastoral team is able to recommend ways forward.)
