*

There's this story that's been wandering through my thoughts, but cannot escape. The story is willing to be told; I am more than willing to tell it. But parts of it will be lost in the preconceptions of certain audience members. Not all of the story - in fact, a good bit of the story - is not pretty, so sharing is likely not possible. 

Or so I thought. At times reliving parts of the story gets pretty painful. Lately, in the midst of conversations with a new friend, I'm struck by a memory long forgotten, or pushed away, and I become distracted by a view of my past through a different lens. One changed by age, experience, faith, any number of things. I hadn't any idea making a new friend could be so frightening, which is ironic because I've never been excited about meeting new people. 

Yet I've been told again and again that I have been given a gift in this story; one that I am to share. 'A gift received is to be given away.' I felt cornered; stuck between a rock and a hard place, as it were. 

Until tonight. Tonight as I drove on the highway, I felt sure that I was never going to be able to tell the story as it should be. I was almost convinced that instead I should quietly walk away. That I should politely decline any encouragement or invitation to even talk casually, and leave storytelling behind. It tore at my heart - does now as I recall - but I couldn't figure any other way. Walking into the church, I knelt and asked where next, since clearly I had been going in the wrong direction. 

The music enveloped me and I allowed myself to listen and respond. 

I'm not sure when the realization came: the story I share needn't start at the beginning. Those details are not always important, although the generalities of them might be. The journey, the results so far, the decision to continue - those are the key points. I lost myself in the Christmas decorations still adorning everything and considered motivation and commitment. Just what sticking it out means. The fact that there is One who didn't walk away when the questions or answers got hard. 

I don't quite know how to share my story yet, but I have a far clearer view of why I might. I have a voice, I have a story, they are gifts to be shared with those who need to hear them. 

And I will. I will share them.