TELL YOUR STORY

In life I have learned that we all face challenges.  They come in many forms and varying intensities.  Some are challenges that push us forward; that inspire us.  Others grieve the depths of our being.  It may be grief in the form of loss, grieving something you want but don’t have, financial grief, grieving someone’s health.… I have experienced grief in many of those forms but none deeper for me personally than when my younger brother Derrick was taken to heaven at the age of 16. 

Grief is a process - a journey - one that takes time and is different for every individual; for every situation.  For me the grief process has seemingly taken on different phases.  Each phase having importance – its own place in the journey.  I’d dare say that while each journey is different and individual there are likely some similarities too in the way people grieve.  Psychologist and grief specialist’s have probably researched this and published the information in peer-reviewed journals and books.  While I have not read any of those publications, I have lived it.  My story may look very different than yours-quite frankly it’s even very different than my husband’s story, my siblings’ story and certainly very different than my parents’ story.  While the story of Derrick’s death and his football team plastered the news for weeks following the accident, my personal journal is a story that for many years I have kept private only sharing with a few of my closest friends on only a few random occasions.

This year is different.  November 23, 2010 marks 8 years that I have been on this journey.  I don’t know why after 8 years God has now called me to tell my story.  While for me it’s a part of every day of my life, it’s seems that most people would check this story off as a thing of the past.  It’s done. Get OVER IT!  I mean really – it happened 8 YEARS AGO? 

Well perhaps I’m a bad listener, or a slow learner, that it has taken 8 years for God to get through to me.  Or perhaps God has other reasons for why now is the right time to share.  To be honest, I really don’t want to share my story.  It seems much easier to grieve behind closed doors.  I don’t want the sympathy.  I don’t want people to tell me they understand.  But for some reason, I feel that God has called me to tell my story. 

This part of my journey started over two years ago when my husband Tom and I spent a weekend in Nashville with “Michael W. Smith and friends.”  We went to the Grand Ole Opry Friday night, had a beautiful Valentine’s dinner and concert Saturday night and Sunday ended with worship.  They sang a song called “Healer” and I felt as though God was telling me that part of the healing process might mean sharing my story.  I began working at Taft Elementary the year after Derrick’s accident.  Many of the people that I worked with, had become so dear to me, and they didn’t even know this part of my life.  I felt like healing might mean that I needed to be open and honest – not keeping it a secrets.  I have been wrestling with this concept since and have taken some baby steps to start sharing my story.  Somehow, though, in the past months, it has been impressed upon me in a new way.  That maybe someone else could learn from my story – maybe my story could inspire someone or maybe I simply just need to respond to God’s call and put it out there – even if no one responds.  I attended “A Night With the Chapmans” and listened as the Steven Curtis Chapman family told their story of how God is faithful and God is true – even in the dark times.  At the concert MaryBeth Chapman talked about how their family and in particular her two sons who have recently started the band “Caleb” have been given a story and they need to be stewards of the story.  They need to share their story so others can learn from their faith journey. 

About a month following this, my husband and I attended another concert.  The singer repeated over and over again how important it is to TELL YOUR STORY.  I swear he said it 100 times!  TELL YOUR STORY!  So I talked to my husband about it the next day and told him how that was really compelling and I really felt like God was speaking to me through those words.  My husband said he never heard the singer say that.  I couldn’t believe it! 

So here I am at a starting point.  I’m not really a fan of blogs.  I’m not promising I’ll keep up with the thing.  But I am trying to find a way to follow God’s calling in my life and be faithful to that.   I fear writing my story.  I wonder why anyone would want to read it – why anyone else would care.  I don’t feel like I’m a good story teller.  I consider myself to be pretty good at writing research papers and reports but seriously – those aren’t really that exciting.  I’m not funny.  I don’t use vivid language.  I usually just tell the facts.  Quite frankly, it worries me to write this without having someone edit it first.  (Yes, go ahead and laugh at me!)  I fear putting myself out there.  I fear the emotional energy it takes to keep up with something like this.  But what I fear the most is that there are parts of this story that has shaped me that I don’t remember. 

So here it is ~ a blog about my life.  Seems strange really to be posting this but I pray that as I work through what this means for me, you might be encouraged and inspired and find your own reasons to keep the faith!