What's your story?

In the last couple of weeks, I’ve had some big stuff walk into my little office.  I’ve listened to a couple of different girls as they sobbed, grieving the loss of their virginity.  They felt dirty and used when the boys to whom they gave this precious gift then moved on to others just days later.  I cried with them.

 

One student casually mentioned that his dad gets furious with him when he won’t buy drugs for him.  He said, “I’m a teenager; of course I can get drugs.  But why should I spend my money on drugs for him?”  The disturbing part of the conversation was just how casually it was said.  So easily shared.

 

Three different students told me they could never talk to their parents the way they talk to me.

 

Everyone has a story.  Every person you come into contact with every day, has a story.  I’ve come to believe that the vast majority of people are also eager to share their stories.  If only someone would listen.  And care.

 

Too often we are in a hurry.  Rushed.  Running through the drive thru.  But sometimes we need to stop and savor the gourmet meal of someone’s story. 

 

There is an old hymn that comes to mind dealing with stories.  The words are simple, “Tell me the story of Jesus; write on my heart every word.  Tell me the story most precious; sweetest that ever was heard.”

 

I think that when we are open to hearing someone’s story, and sitting with them through the dark and dank parts of it, we are silently speaking the story of Jesus right back to them.  The story of love and acceptance.  The story of not casting stones.

 

 

 

*For every story I hear, I know I’ve rushed through ten.  So don’t hear me saying I have this all together.  I don’t.  This is a challenge for the reader AND the writer.