Back in 1995 Oasis busted out with “What’s The Story Mornin Glory” – Yeeeeaaaahhhh
Going even further back ole Fanny Crosby wrote, “Tell me the story of Jesus, Write on my heart every word. Tell me the story most precious, Sweetest that ever was heard.” (man as I look back on that old hymn there really are some powerful, moving words – check it out!) and then back in 1866 we also had A. Katherine Hankey giving us the downlow on a wonderful “Old Old Story” .
So what’s the story behind all of this – well stories are a big part of my life. I love to tell funny stories, I love to listen to good stories, stories just carry a lot of power within them, they draw people in. Jesus used stories in his teachings, called Parables (some have defined Parables as = earthly stories with heavenly meanings) – People just love to hear a good story. When we were younger and staying at a friend’s house for a sleepover, or on a campout, or on those long bus rides back from a school ballgame we all wanted to hear a good ghost-story that would scare us half to death. Stories are powerful things.
I tend to do a bit a traveling around the ole east coast and most if it is by car, and many times by myself- so I have a lot of time to think and daydream. Many times as I have traveled I have passed by one of those houses – you know the kind – the old broken down barn, or farmhouse, the wooden sides with the tin roof – grass, weeds, and kudzoo all taken over. Windows are broken, probably graffiti painted on the sides, and I wonder – WHAT’S THE STORY? I mean even if it was headed to Washington, NC to visit my dad’s family or up to the mountains of Virginia to visit my mom’s family and the house was one we had passed a million times throughout the years and it had never really changed I wondered to myself – WHAT’S THE STORY?
I mean it wasn’t always like that I am sure. What did it used to be? What family lived there? How many kids did they have? Did they move away? Did some sort of tragedy strike? Why would a perfectly good house, a warm home, a safe-place eventually turn into that? Was there sickness, death, what caused this once happy place to turn into something so sad? Did they know the Lord? Did they have family meals together? Did they say prayers with the children each night as they went to bed? WHAT’S THE STORY? I have often times wanted to go back to an area and ask around – ask the neighbors, ask ANYONE who might know the story.
Then I started thinking about the fact that we all have a “story” or “stories” we all have something to share. We get so busy with life though, that we definitely don’t take much time to listen to someone else’s story and sometimes even so busy that we forget our own. So WHAT’S YOUR STORY? WHAT’S MY STORY?
Would we be amazed at the similarities if we ever stopped long enough to share, would we learn from one another’s mistakes? How much better would our lives be if we stopped – not necessarily to “smell the roses” but long enough to listen to a story or two and be bold enough to share our own? Do we know and love the Lord? Do we have sickness and death going on? Is there devastation – is there Joy? Do we spend time around the table in the evenings with our family and friends? Do we say our prayers each night before falling asleep? Do we lay awake nights with so much anxiety that we don’t sleep at all?
What’s our story? What’s MY story? What’s YOUR story? Will you share or just wait till years pass and there is nothing but a rusted out, shell of a house that used to be a home, covered in dirt, mold, mildew, weeds, and kudzoo – whispering cries of stories to be told to people that drive unknowingly by – who might have been encouraged, touched, changed, challenged if we had simply shared our story……..