Who we are isn't in the statistics,
dates, times, or places we've been. Who we are, is in the stories of
our lives. In chapter six of Wes Yoder's book, “Bond of Brothers,”
he makes a strong appeal to men to keep the stories of their lives,
and to share them. It is in the telling of our stories that people
really come to know us. Our lives are more than 140 character
tweets, facebook posts, or Flicker picture posts. This sea of
humanity undulates with the rhythm of life, and we find ourselves
crashing upon one another in explosions of life, death, and glorious
hope in between. There isn't one human being upon this earth that
has escaped the role we all play. Even the most discarded of human
beings, at any given moment breathes hope in, and hope is the story.
Because of the personal nature of the
stories told yesterday morning, I won't repeat any of them here.
What I will tell you, is that they are better than any movie, funnier
than any sitcom, and more vibrant than any book you may read. It is
the telling, that makes our lives real. History is the telling. The
Bible is the telling. Greek tragedies, Shakespeare, Tolstoy, are the
telling. We all have a telling, some of which are more rich and
vibrant than any work of fiction.
We all do it, whether over a deck of
cards, the dinner table, or within a warm family gathering, we all
have a telling. It is the stories that reveal our true nature. The
stories remove the masks and the costumes we put on. The stories
reveal our hopes, our fears, our triumphs, and most importantly, what
we cherish. The stories prove we are human, and that we, like all
people are caught in the eternal tidal pull of life and death.
Telling the stories, is a healing process. In the telling we watch
the faces of those around us to see if there is a glimmer of
recognition. The stories are always different, but the themes and questions are all the same.
Do you know how I felt, when I rushed
my wife to the hospital for the birth of our first child?
Do you
know the stark raving fear, and pain of seeing a child in a situation
to which you had no control?
Do you know the utter sense of euphoria
that comes over a man when his request for the hand of a young maiden
is granted.
Do you know the weight that bears down on your heart
when your child comes home defeated in school, even though trying as
hard as they might.
These stories haven't changed
throughout the eons.
As Christians, it's easy to assign
everything in our lives to a capricious, manipulative God, and negate
the fact that our stories are precious to him. Do we realize they are written, and stored in scrolls in
heaven. What should grip our hearts even more, is that those stories can become the foundation of hope for someone who needs just one reason to hang on. The stories don't have to be valiant stories of faith and courage. The Bible is full of stories where the person did something dumb. Somewhere in
the past, long ago, a young Christian woman opened the door to her
home to find the Apostle Peter standing at the door. Gasping, she
slams the door in his face, and in terror reports to those gathered
in the room to pray for the very same Peter, that he was there. Then
imagine the chastisement she received at the hands of those praying.
Until, . . .
We wouldn't know this happened, if someone hadn't told
the story. I'm sure the story was told with great howls of laughter
and finger pointing to one another, until it became a story that Bro.
Luke would hear and retell for us to read two thousand years later. The book
of Acts is still being written today, let's find the time to tell our
stories.
Everyone read Chapter Seven for next
week.
