I have really great friends. In Ohio. Across the United States. Even across the world. Of all ages and races.
And something each of them possess? Storytelling.
I’ve found it’s something I deeply value in the people I love.
God has always given me a few people in every season of life that I can talk intricately talk about art with and that’s such a gift that I treasure.
I could talk movies, books, and paintings for hours on end.
Especially the stories that make you feel something. Deep sadness. Pure joy. Humanity. Stories have given me an eye to see people with empathy and compassion because I will never be able to fully understand anyones stories but my own- but I can try.
Today I went with a team from my squad to ministry- which happened to be spending time in an old folks home in the city.
It’s 10am and soon roughly 10 elderly Guatemalans will sit around a classroom that seems it was created for 20 preschoolers. Bright colors. Each of their names sharpie-d on large pieces of paper on the wall. An old western playing on the carted television.
Individually, each person walks in the room, mostly quiet with a polite “Buenos Dias” to each of us. We would smile politely and kiss their cheek- as is the custom.
We sat around white foldout tables for the next hour speaking broken Spanish to do our best to get to know the wise souls sitting around us. I couldn’t help but daydream of the lives I was surrounded by. Men who had spent their lives working on a farm or women who once went out dancing in their favorite dress with their best friends.
Most questions focused on their families because we quickly found out that’s their prized possession and favorite topic to speak on. I sat across the table from Abraham. An 88 year old man with a gray beard and the kindest smile. Before he sat down, he hugged every person in the room and told them he was glad to see them. That’s my kind of person. I was drawn to him instantly.
Abraham has 14 kids, 52 grandkids, and 12 great grandchildren.
CRAZY. That’s so many humans. Just think about how many stories he has to tell and the wisdom he holds from the full life he’s lived. I was intrigued and found so much joy in simply laughing and playing cards with such a man. And that’s how it is with everyone we meet everyday; they possess a life that we’ve never lived. How humbling that I don’t know everything and constantly have so much to learn from the lives around me.
All this to say, I’ve realized that the most important story is our own. Jesus says it best— each of us have a testimony and it’s up to us to find the joy in using it, but most importantly: living it. Daily I’m reminded that the best story I’ll ever tell is my own. There’s a quote that says,
“How we spend our days is how we spend our lives.”
That’s a pretty wild truth if you ask me. And the best part? We can change our story whenever we want. Or celebrate our story more. Or share our story with the world whenever we want. We have complete control over how we react to the world around us and who we do it with.
What is the story you’re telling with your life?
Freedom?
Joy?
Shame?
Fear?
It’s up to you.
