I told my life's story to a group of friends the other night, and you know what I found? Hope, peace, even some excitement. I think there is a kind of fear that many of us harbor which surrounds the sharing of our personal stories. It is a fear that is rooted in the belief that we may look back and see no meaning or direction in our lives, or, that in so doing, we may just relive some painful memories only to find out that we really are all alone in this worldly sojourn. However, when I shared my story and put into some, very inadequate words, to my life's story I came face to face with a very different reality.
My whole life, the good and the bad: all those things that had felt so meaningless, the moments of seeming hopelessness, even the deep wounds loss no longer have the cruel appearance of arbitrary chaos. Instead, they form the revelation, evidence, and the testimony of Jesus in my life. My story serves as a reminder to my heart that God is in control, even when, especially when, I am not. I have never been beyond His reach and in every circumstance He was drawing me towards Himself. His heart was, is, and will always be for me.
Please, do not let the enemy steal your life's story from you. I dare you to tell your story to some one and invite God to meet you in it. Maybe you have never met Him, maybe you just feel that way, but whatever the case, please, invite him into your story, you will not be disappointed.
