Opening the Door to 54: Sharing Stories

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“When you stand and share your story in an empowering way, your story will heal you and your story will heal somebody else.”
Iyanla Vanzant
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I learn so much when someone shares a story.

Stories are the creative conversion of life itself into a more powerful, clearer, more meaningful experience,” writes Robert McKee. “They are the currency of human contact.”

The currency of contact. Wow. That makes great sense. When I listen to the story someone shares, it helps me think about my life. Gives me strength to face my own circumstances with renewed vigor. Enlarges my capacity to empathize and “walk a mile” in someone else’s shoes.

Last night, I was invited to share my story. My earnest prayer was that my story would offer life and healing to someone. I hope it did.

Time was short, as always, so here is the additional information and materials I promised.

I’m praying for some quiet moments in which you can experience the “Who Are Your Bridges?” meditative exercise. Before you begin, take a few moments and review:

1. “A Million Falling Aparts” (PPT). Give this a few seconds to download. It might not make sense if you weren’t with us last night, but hopefully a word or two will stand out. The pictures tell the story of my last three years. Each one adding to the million falling aparts that eventually brought me to one major meltdown. I encourage you to map your own life journey, noting the significant markers along the way and the “bridges,” i.e. women who supported and helped you cross from one side of a difficult place to the other. Let them know. Thank them. Then, become that bridge for someone else.

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2. Read Ephesians 4:14-16 in several different versions. This adds depth and interest. What speaks to you? We spoke of how, as women of faith, each one of us is a supporting ligament with a specific work to do. When we live this way, in spiritual maturity and unity, we are a mighty bridge of healing and hope for our spheres of influence. When this happens, watch out world!

14Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of people in their deceitful scheming. 15 Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ. 16 From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.

2. Listen to “Worn” by Tenth Avenue North (please forgive any advertisements, can’t seem to get them off of it). It was my lifeline during my million falling aparts and I believe it will be yours.

3. On each slat of the bridge, write the name of someone who has served as a “bridge” in your life.

Who Are Your Bridges?

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Bridges connect.

Bridges bring ease.

Bridges support.

I am where I am because of the bridges I crossed. The Woman of Thebez (Judges 9:50-52) was a bridge. Amy Carmichael was a bridge. . .

And, finally, a prayer for you today:

“When it seemed there was no hope

you showed us new ways forward, O God.

When there seemed there were only endings

You showed us new beginnings.

Strengthen our belief in the power of life over death.

Strengthen our belief in the force of truth over falsehood

that we may be bearers of hope in the world. Amen.

Will you share about the women who have been your bridges? What about them helped you cross to the other side? Let’s encourage one another.

And, as promised, a few pictures of those real-life bridges I crossed while on my journey with Candace Rose:

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Fresh Word for a Fresh Start/Lenten Study: Time 2 Disentangle.

Ok, here I go. Lenten intentionality & deliberateness. Inspired by Literary Agent, Rachelle Gardner, I’ve created a LENTEN HAIKU:

Lent strips the self bare
A slow steady pace forward
Fresh starts and clean slates

After a very arduous, relationship-challenging, work-laden, and emotionally draining four days, I woke up yesterday morning before dawn. Primarily because my husband had to be at work very early. Usually, his rustling and bustling, lights on, etc. doesn’t bother me. It’s payback really (smile), because I go to bed late. Not terribly late, but later than he does. So I rustle and bustle and turn the bathroom light on while he is trying to go to sleep. It evens out, in a weird “twenty-seven years of marriage” way. Grace makes it work. So, when I couldn’t go back to sleep, I decided, “Get up, woman. Go for that morning walk with Jesus you so desperately need.”

I am so glad I listened to that angel sitting on my shoulder. A morning walk with Jesus was exactly what this weary woman needed:

Listening to the lyrical arias of the morning songbirds. Ahhhhh.

Stopping to bask in the rays of a rising sun. Ahhhh.

Tuning in to the silence. Ahhhh.

Leaning towards heaven, hoping for a whisper. Ahhhh.

Untying and disentangling from voices that drain. Ahhhh.

Embracing the lessons of the dawn. Ahhhh.

And then, one vital lesson unfolded right before my eyes.

How can something so lovely emit such an unlovely fragrance?

As I walked through the snow shower of surrounding trees, there it was. That very unlovely fragrance. How on earth can something so stunning, so lovely, and so radiant, emit such an unlovely fragrance? Immediately, I stopped. There was the whisper:

Isn’t this a mere reflection of ourselves?
Adorned to be lovely, on the outside,
yet often emitting the unlovely on the inside?

Quickly, I was re-minded of 2 Corinthians 2:14-15 (NLT), which reads, “Our lives are a Christ-like fragrance rising up to God. But this fragrance is perceived differently by those who are being saved and by those who are perishing.” This spoke directly to several confrontations I had encountered earlier in the week. My life definitely was a stench to several individuals this week. I could go on and on, but the bottom line is this: Am I paying attention to my inner life? Making sure my attitude and character is grounded in the grace of God? Do I cast judgment easily and without blinking? Am I really walking in the way Jesus would have me walk?

Now, I know I can’t please everyone. No matter what, I will be a stench to some. I’m not responsible for that. Yet, I am responsible for maintaining the inner life. Making sure I spend time with the Master who will correct and shape me into His image. Dull my sharp tongue. Check me when I want to judge. Grace me to hold my tongue. Empower me to love the unlovely.

As I read from Amy Carmichael’s, “I Come Quietly to Meet You: An Intimate Journey in God’s Presence” (edited by David Hazard), drink in her words:

Quiet time. The term is vital, descriptive of the very
manner in which we receive an in-flooding
of the Lord’s life….To those entangled in the ways I have described, there will always
come a need to exercise the special energy that comes from a life lived in
close union with the Lord. It may be a trial, from which our flesh shrinks
in dismay. We may sense a coming conflict-the air itself,
thick with good and evil forces,
wrestling, and the evil so terribly strong. And yet we feel bound by invisible cords,
and we ask, ‘Why do I feel so weighted down, so hindered?’
In such a moment, we may call upon the God of fire to burn our bonds
and set us free to fight the fight, to make us strong to stand, peaceful and strong,
in heavenly place with Christ Jesus.”

Ahhh. Powerful words for our deliberate, intentional Lenten walk towards the aria of Easter. This is longer, I know, than usual, but I felt so necessary. I wanted this Lenten season to make a real difference in my Christian walk. I pray it has helped you. After listening to today’s FRESH WORD VLOG, take a few moments to create your own LENTEN HAIKU (5 syllable, 7 syllables, 5 syllables). Will you share it with us? Let us all drink in the nectar of God’s whispers.