Tender green softens the garden’s winter hardened terrain. Slender shoots stretch toward the lofty warmth, and summon liquid encouragement from heaven.
Spring – a solace for surviving the axial tilt.
Life will tilt. The axis that we lean on for stability will just lean back and lay us flat. And a wound, we thought was bandaged well, begins to ooze.
When the stain of the wound shows, many see it as an embarrassment. We want to hide the imperfection. To us it is a stain of failure, but, it is really the ink of a love letter seeping through.
Your wound is your story, your testimony, your love letter from Christ to the world. The telling of your story writes His love on the hearts of those who hear.
Your wound, your imperfect broken story is the ink that tells others the story of how much Christ loves, and how He heals.
Your story is a road map for those not as far along as you are.
Your story can be a healing salve to an open wound of another.
Your story lets others know they are not the only one and they are not alone.
This weekend, as new green shoots rose out of hard soil, tender stories came from hard times as we watched and listened to stories from the (in)RL, (in Real Life) Conference. From the comfort of our homes, in the gathering of friends, old and new, we listened as salve flowed not only from the screen, but also from the women sitting next to us.
Our stories are unique. You are the only one who has your story, with all the details of place, time, and people. Your story is growing, like tender green stems finding its way through the hard places, through the winter of paralyzing pain, freezing you in place, until the snow turns into rain, and the sun’s warmth draws you out of hiding.
Your story can be the story that calls to those deep in hiding, to come out, and live.
This very morning, I was texting a friend and felt like I had shared more than I should have shared. When our conversation ended, I went to Facebook (knowing my friend was still online and I wanted her to see the message and not feel the need to respond as she might with a text) and typed, “Sometimes I should just keep my mouth shut!”
But, the auto-correct in my computer decided to help me. When I typed “shut,” “auto-correct” thought I should have an “i” instead of a “u.” When I found the mistake just minutes later, there were already many comments and private messages and Voxer messages coming my way.
Can I tell you? I almost threw-up! My whole body broke out in a cold sweat as trembling fingers tried to delete the post. In an effort to apologize to anyone reading my post, I simply reposted, “OH MY LANTA, WORST TYPO EVER!!!”
For the next two hours, friends consoled me with their own horror stories of typos, words said aloud by mistake, crazy text messages sent to the wrong person and comments that were not meant the way they were written.
Their stories of things gone terribly wrong were a salve to my embarrassed soul! I no long felt shame that I don’t check what I write well – or, obviously at all, sometimes. We all laughed to the point of tears over all of the stories coming through the feed.
Not all stories are funny, not all stories are big. Sometimes it is within the small we find the big – in the tender green shoot coming from the hardened soil that we find our big blessings.
Tell you stories and become a salve to others.
Hang in there Sisters!
Okay, it’s your turn. Tell your story, not the big one, just a little. Because it is in the little we find the big!
Latest posts by Diane W. Bailey (see all)
- What God Can Do with A Shattered Heart - September 5, 2022
- When It Is Time to Bring Your Ship Ashore - January 2, 2018
- Art Of Hospitality – How to Love Others As Ourselves - November 27, 2017
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