the middle

“Great Stories happen to those who can tell them." Ira Glass

I make no claim to having good storytelling abilities, though I aspire to.

I do love a good story, and yet when it comes to telling my own I tend to skip over big plot points- the story lines that include suffering.

It would be easy enough to tell you how I met Jesus and how He changed my life by giving you the sweet and simple version. I grew up in a Christian home with two parents and two siblings. Whenever the Church doors were open it seemed as if our family was walking through them. I loved Sunday’s and I loved Jesus. Around the age of  five my eyes were open to the fact that I was a sinner who needed a savior- and Jesus was that savior. I placed my trust in Him. After that moment the Lord gave me this very strong desire to tell others about Him. In fact that desire was so strong at such a young age, that I felt that God was asking me to carry His good news to a people and land far from my own.

This is the point in my story where I usually fast forward about thirteen years to after high school where I went off to Bible school to pursue my “call”.  I met a man there, got married, had many babies over the course of ten years, and here we are, finally living what has been in my heart since I was a little girl. This is my story, or so I say. But really it’s only just a bare outline of what got me here. The real story is in the in-between.

A few years ago I came across a verse in the Psalms that I had never noticed before, and it hit me in a whole new light when it comes to sharing my story.

I have not hidden Your righteousness within my heart;
I have spoken of Your faithfulness and Your salvation;
I have not concealed Your lovingkindness
and Your truth from the great congregation.
Psalm 40:10

Often beginnings are the easy part. The ending is a mystery yet to be revealed.  But it’s the middle that holds the most- the weight of the story, yet the middle is often the part that I tend to skim over.  I tend to forget that the middle is the best, like in an Oreo. It’s the filling that matters, It’s what makes the cookie have it’s complete flavor. It's the middle where we see God's hand the most.

I want to share my story in a way that reflects God’s faithfulness. The only way to do it justice- to include all the hard along with the good, the middle parts. The grit with the grace.

So maybe it’s time to go back and retell it.