I love stories.
I love to hear them.
I love to tell them.
I love to write them.
I love to read them.
Well, you get the idea.
Recently traveling in new places and meeting lots of new people, I have been asked to tell “my story.”
I find myself telling different things to different people. Sometimes I tell them the parts I want them to hear. Other times I tell them the parts I think they want to hear.
Time is a factor. It forces me to decide what is “important” in my story. I guess I should develop an “elevator” version that covers all the basics. Except that’s the problem. What are the basics? What matters most?
The problem with “my story” that I have been telling lately is that somehow I started to believe that it actually is “my” story.
A long time ago I realized that “my story” is a part of a much bigger story. And whenever I tell “my” story outside of its context things start to get weird.
I hesitate to use the word Christian anymore when describing myself because the word has been usurped by politicians and no longer means, in many circles, what I am trying to convey.
I have one friend who introduces himself as a “disciple.” I like that, but I think I’m afraid if I use it people will think its a joke or worse they’ll take me seriously and expect me to walk on water or something,
My husband used to call himself an “adult beloved son of God.” That is a true description, but a mouthful.
Abraham was called “The Friend of God”, but I don’t want it to sound like I’m in an AA meeting when I introduce myself.
I think for the next few weeks I may have to try on several different descriptors that convey “my story” is not just mine, but part of something much bigger.
I’m starting a list: Child of God, Beneficiary of Mercy, Sinner Saved by Grace, Sinner Saint, One of the Sheep, Follower, One on the Way, God Wrestler, —- (Please feel free to suggest your own descriptors. I have a feeling I’m going to need them.)