Thursday, April 24, 2014

stories

I love stories.

I always have, from the early days of stories about Little Bear and ones by Judy Blume to the stories in middle school by Mary Higgins Clark and about Dawn Rochelle to the books that line my shelves today--
I have what's possibly one of the most eclectic bookshelves around, with Dean Koontz, Gilly Graham, Gone with the Wind, C.S. Lewis, Louisa May Alcott, Einstein, Dracula, Harry Dresden, the Kingkiller Chronicle...
--the list goes on, but I'll stop there!

Stories do amazing things. They teach lessons without preaching sermons, take you to different worlds or times, open eyes and soften hearts.

I write stories, here on this blog and in more notebooks than I can count that are scattered all over my house.I wrote a fantasy novel that I poured my heart into, a devotional that opened my eyes to aspects of God's character I hadn't paid much attention to before, and most recently a story that's still a secret because the person it's meant for hasn't gotten to see it yet (I'll tell more about that next week--I can't wait to share it with you!). Words have poured out of me for as long as I can remember, at times much to the annoyance of people around me when the worlds don't stop...

There's one story, though, that's hard for me to tell.

It's my story, the one that opens my heart up for everyone to see--and judge--and leaves everything out there, raw.

It's a scary story for me to tell, though the bits of it I've poured out here, to you, have helped make it a little less scary.

I've started working on it, though.
I'm telling my story, as messy as it is, because I've come to realize something. I'm not telling my story because it's amazing or needs to be told. I would much rather keep it to myself, tucked away where no one else sees it.

What I've realized is that my story isn't mine.

It's His.

It's His power that has pulled me through the mess, His grace that has made life worth living, and His strength that has given me the ability to stand back up when I've gotten knocked flat on my face.

And though my story is messy, He has been in the midst of it all. My story is part of His story, and His story needs to be told.

It may take me a while to finish, and it may take me even longer to get up the nerve to put it out there for you to read, but it's in progress.

What's your story? There's someone out there who needs to hear it. This is a link up with the ladies writing together at whitespace (see the button over to the right). Feel free to hop over there and read the stories they've shared!


3 comments:

  1. visiting via Whitespace linkup. I cheer your story Mandy. God bless.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Yes, our stories are part of His story......it can be hard to put our story out there for all to see, but it is also freeing. Lovely post . So glad I stopped over from Whitespace and Bonnie.....

    ReplyDelete
  3. "It's His power that has pulled me through the mess, His grace that has made life worth living, and His strength that has given me the ability to stand back up when I've gotten knocked flat on my face." This is so beautiful. His power, His grace, His strength. Thank you for pointing me to the hope that is only found in Him, Mandy. It has lifted my heart today.

    ReplyDelete

Thoughts? I would love to hear them!
~Mandy