The Story I'll Tell

In the fall of 2005, our three kids were in school for the first time, and I was trying to launch a writing career.  I’d been hoping an established journalist would be able to mentor me, but I’d recently learned that was not to be.

In the meantime, I’d been editing our church newsletter, and lately had added in feature-style narratives among the calendar updates. These were the kind of stories I longed to tell—testimonies of God changing lives, tales of circumstances so specific that it made your spine tingle and you just knew it had to be God showing up.

I’d recently run into one of my former teachers who had since retired, so I took a copy of the latest newsletter and on a visit approached her about helping me. Her initial rejection sent me spiraling into a frustrated depression.

The heavy cloud oppressed me as I went through the motions during the rest of the day.

When I got home from helping out at my kids’ elementary school roller skating party, I had a phone message on the answering machine (these were the days of land lines). It was from my latest interview subject. He said he'd had a rough day, then arrived home to find the church newsletter in his mailbox. He had been so encouraged to read his story, and to remember again how God had worked in his life. He affirmed my gift of writing and thanked me for telling his story well.

After I'd replayed the message for the fourth time, my kindergartener Laurel put her hand on my leg, looked up into my face and asked, "Mommy, why are you crying?"

Through my tears, I told her that God had left me a phone message.

The next Sunday, I thanked my interviewee for the phone message.

He told me he had felt really funny making the call, and even more foolish leaving the message, but he'd had a strong sense that the Holy Spirit was directing him to do it. I wasn’t surprised.

"I know," I told him.

The verse I first claimed for my writing at that time was Psalm 66:16 “Come and listen, all you who fear God, and I will tell you what he did for me.”

At Westridge we have been talking and singing about “The Story I’ll Tell.” One night recently I awoke with a timeline of stories impressed on my mind. Some I have written about before, some I haven’t, but all of them will be an attempt to capture those moments that I never want to forget. 

Like the Children of Israel who would always point to the parting of the Red Sea as the unmistakable display of God's power and protection, I want to remember and celebrate the moments where God showed up. Sharing stories like these encourage me to keep walking in the faith and looking for God shots. I pray they will for you, too.