Telling Our Stories

This past weekend, I spoke to our congregation about the power of telling our stories. The message of the gospel is embodied in our own personal experience with Jesus. When we are able to share that with people, it is a powerful thing. 

In the message, I challenged all of us to write our story in 100 words or less. I added a challenge for anyone willing to email me their story, and I would post it on this blog–as a way for us to be encouraged by each other’s stories.

Here are a few of those stories, each reminding us what an incredible Savior we have:

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 Looking for love in all the wrong places. . .that was me.  Because of my childhood sexual abuse I was wounded and confused.  I was loved in one way and betrayed in another.

 As a teenager and young adult I looked to people (men) to fill my emptiness and give me the love I desired.  That didn’t work.  I became depressed and suicidal.  One day I cried out to God and prayed, “Please help me”.  That very day he answered and came to my rescue.  He sent a total stranger to share with me the good news of Jesus Christ…the One who could fill me with unconditional love and forgiveness.  After I prayed the prayer of salvation, He lifted the heavy yoke of despair and filled me with His love which I so desperately longed for.

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 I skipped today. 

 That’s significant because the last time I remember skipping was Dec. 21, 2008.

 That day I skipped because I was filled with hope.  Hope because my 16-year old son, who was lying in a coma, was showing signs of  waking up – and I skipped through the lobby of the hospital waiting room to ICU.

 But he didn’t wake up that day. 

 And three days later he entered heaven. 

 We lived every parents nightmare, and Jesus has walked with us.

 He will walk with you through your heart ache too. 

 I skipped today because I have hope. 

 This story has a very cool PS—Sunday afternoon at a local restaurant, this couple struck up a conversation with a woman at a nearby table. In the course of the conversation, they were able to share their story with this woman, who was in need of hope. 

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My father left my family when I was 19. The pain and heart ache that I felt left me confused with emotions racing between suicide and homicide. I hated him and often felt an overwhelming self hatred for myself. And I continued to feel this way for the next two years until I was so beaten up by my cancerous anger that I developed a willingness to forgive.

So, I prayed everyday for three months for God to remove the hate from my heart and he did! However, when I approached my father with an excited, “I just want you to know that I forgive you,” it wasn’t as enthusiastically received. Over the previous two years while I had focused on hating my father, he had been equally angry with me and my isolation from him. I knew this because he responded to my forgiveness with, “You forgive me? I should be forgiving you!” I, at that moment, reclaimed my original feelings from God that I had so desperately asked him to remove and reverted back to where I began.

Several years ago, there was an interview on television of a journalist reporting on the death of a young man that occurred earlier that day in the D.C. area. When he had asked the mother of the young man to comment on her feelings toward her son’s killer she simply said that she had already forgiven him. The peace and serenity that came from her heart as she spoke was something that I wanted. I understood after hearing her heartbreak and her response to it that God wouldn’t support my hatred, but He will comfort my sorrow.

Since then, I’ve returned to my dad with a new willingness. This time I approached my father by taking responsibility for my wrongs and asking for the way to do right by him. At this point, God had revealed to me that I am forgiven and the importance of hearing my father admit fault was no longer as important as me telling him my part.

Today I have a new relationship with my dad and most importantly my God. My God, who has given me a peace and serenity within my life that I never thought would be possible.

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Fear,emptiness, hatred, unforgiveness, knew my life had no purpose. convinced of it, I  wrote to satan if I could marry this certain man he could have my soul…..I did…Later, had kids and was sad to think that I would never see my kids again after I died. I was driving down the road and this heat in my heart was so warm and loving…I knew that GOD had forgiven me for every sin.I cried and Knew God loves me!! Stopped at a church and asked Pastor Brian Severin tell me who is Jesus!!!!!! He Loves me!!!!  

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I grew up in a Lutheran church and was confirmed as a young girl.  My parents were not Christians. I had no personal relationship with Jesus Christ.  I used to sit outside at night as a young woman and look up at the stars and wonder what life was all about, and if there was something bigger than me.  After I got married, I was expecting twins and it looked like I might miscarry them.  That scared me.  I did deliver healthy babies, but after that I started attending church.  A church goer gave me some books to read, one  of which caught my attention: “Beyond Death’s Door.”  It told stories of people and their after-death experiences.  Some people went on to a pleasant light; others went off to a terrifying hell.  I didn’t know where I was going, and so I prayed the sinner’s prayer at the end of the book and received Jesus into my heart. This was around Christmas, 1980, and my life has never been the same!

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Any other stories out there you’d like to share? If so, email them to mystory@cccgreeley.org.

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