Identity Issues
In my last post, I got personal. Writing about something like that is tough. Because it exposes. It reveals. And that can be very, very scary. I think that's why many of us have a hard time sharing our stories. There is fear deep down of begin judged, of people knowing.
There is beauty though. Something I've learned over the years, as I've shared my story, is that women open up when they hear me speak. After listening, there is a lovely murmur that happens. Women begin to share more. To feel comfortable. There is a sigh of relief. I love that. I wish that we could all remember that because it is so important.
I still remember the day I heard her story. It was one about identity. She spent many years trying to figure out her place in this world. She went through school, bouncing from one group to the next. One year she placed herself in the sporty group. One year she split the time with the artsy and the grunge group. One year she actually fit in with the "popular" group. It wasn't until her Senior year in high school that she learned something so valuable. At a Young Life event, she heard the gospel for the first time and "it wrecked my world" (her words). My ears perked up when she continued to go on about how after hearing about Jesus and his love for her, she reconciled so much from her past, which allowed her to find her true identity. Not in any clique or "group" or label. Her identity was, simply put, "a child of God".
This story resonates deep with me and I still remember that day like it was yesterday.
Why?
Because I can relate. It was the first time I heard someone share something so familiar. So similar to what I had experienced growing up. I felt freedom. I felt release. I felt comfort. Knowing that I wasn't alone. Knowing that there are other women out there experiencing the same thing I am.
I am not alone.
It's mind boggling isn't it? Knowing that we aren't alone. It's comforting to know that there are others who have experienced the same things we have.
After hearing her story, I wanted to leap. I wanted to sing. I wanted to hug her. I remember rushing to her and opening up about my own past. I'm sure I scared her a little bit but, I get so passionate and excited about things! There was a time I held back but, not anymore. (And I don't really care.)
I'm sharing this today because I want to illustrate the importance of our stories. We are living proof of God's mercy and love. If you can't think up scripture quick enough, guess what? You have your life. That's pretty awesome. And... can I be honest here? It's pretty important and so meaningful.
We are not alone on this journey. When we share our stories and open up with others, we prove that. Hand in hand; side by side...
I am so grateful.
Is there a story you remember hearing from someone that caused you a similar reaction? I would love to hear about it! Come join us on Facebook!
There is beauty though. Something I've learned over the years, as I've shared my story, is that women open up when they hear me speak. After listening, there is a lovely murmur that happens. Women begin to share more. To feel comfortable. There is a sigh of relief. I love that. I wish that we could all remember that because it is so important.
I still remember the day I heard her story. It was one about identity. She spent many years trying to figure out her place in this world. She went through school, bouncing from one group to the next. One year she placed herself in the sporty group. One year she split the time with the artsy and the grunge group. One year she actually fit in with the "popular" group. It wasn't until her Senior year in high school that she learned something so valuable. At a Young Life event, she heard the gospel for the first time and "it wrecked my world" (her words). My ears perked up when she continued to go on about how after hearing about Jesus and his love for her, she reconciled so much from her past, which allowed her to find her true identity. Not in any clique or "group" or label. Her identity was, simply put, "a child of God".
This story resonates deep with me and I still remember that day like it was yesterday.
Why?
Because I can relate. It was the first time I heard someone share something so familiar. So similar to what I had experienced growing up. I felt freedom. I felt release. I felt comfort. Knowing that I wasn't alone. Knowing that there are other women out there experiencing the same thing I am.
I am not alone.
It's mind boggling isn't it? Knowing that we aren't alone. It's comforting to know that there are others who have experienced the same things we have.
After hearing her story, I wanted to leap. I wanted to sing. I wanted to hug her. I remember rushing to her and opening up about my own past. I'm sure I scared her a little bit but, I get so passionate and excited about things! There was a time I held back but, not anymore. (And I don't really care.)
I'm sharing this today because I want to illustrate the importance of our stories. We are living proof of God's mercy and love. If you can't think up scripture quick enough, guess what? You have your life. That's pretty awesome. And... can I be honest here? It's pretty important and so meaningful.
We are not alone on this journey. When we share our stories and open up with others, we prove that. Hand in hand; side by side...
I am so grateful.
Is there a story you remember hearing from someone that caused you a similar reaction? I would love to hear about it! Come join us on Facebook!
