I share my story because we’re together in this thing called life

For the past couple of weeks, I’ve struggled to write about my big ugly meltdown a few days after arriving in Lomalinda, a remote mission center in rural Colombia, South America.

Last week I got started on the story, but so far you’ve heard only part of it. Sometimes writing about the hard stuff hurts too much.

But I also believe, and teach in my memoir classes,

that as Christians, we share our stories

for the benefit of others

who might be fighting similar kinds of battles.

Our stories can encourage others

to keep fighting the good fight with hopeful hearts

 because, as David said in the Old Testament,

“Weeping may last through the night,

but joy comes with the morning.”

(Psalm 30:5B, NLT)

David continued, telling his story

of how that happened:

“I cried out to you, Lord. . . .

Hear me, Lord, and have mercy on me.

Help me, O Lord.”

And then David wrote that, indeed, God

had turned his weeping into joy:

“You [God] have turned my mourning

into joyful dancing.

You have taken away my clothes of mourning

and clothed me with joy. . . .”

(Psalm 30:8-11, NLT)

There’s a reason the Bible is full of stories. There’s a reason Jesus told parables. There’s a reason the Bible teaches us to tell others what we’ve seen God do (see 1 Chronicles 16:24, Deuteronomy 4:9, Psalm 66:16, and Luke 8:39). God uses the stories of David and others in the Bible to train us, to encourage us, and strengthen us in our faith—and in the same way, you and I share our stories with others, doing what Paul wrote about: mutually encouraging each other’s faith (Romans 1:12). Yes, your stories and mine are important.

But for most of us, usually writing the painful stuff is not easy.

“If we’re going to write about personal experiences, everything pivots around our vulnerability,” writes prolific Christian author and writing coach, Cecil Murphey.

So if God’s going to use our stories to bless others, Cecil continues with something we need to understand: “Readers identify with failure and find hope in rising above mistakes.”

My writer friend, Sharon Lippincott, author of The Heart and Craft of Lifestory Writing, said to me:

“Easier to say than do, but Amen to this. . . .

Be brave, y’all. Write the real story.”

Sharon’s right. It’s painful to be vulnerable with our readers. It can be heart-rending to write about our blunders and failures.

In fact, it’s often even harder to re-live those experiences in order to write them.

But that’s where the gold is.

That’s where we discover

we’ve grown from the experience, we’ve matured,

we’ve become different, better, people,

strengthened in our faith.

And that’s what readers want—and need—

to learn from us.

You see, memoir is all about transformation.

And so, we write our stories,

asking God to use us to inspire others

who have also failed and long to transform—

who hope that they, too, can grow and mature

and live as different, better people,

maturing in their faith.

We’re all in this together.

Come back next week and I’ll tell you the rest of the story about my dreadful meltdown a few days after arriving at our mission center.

I’ll tell you that my weeping endured

for more than one night.

But I also want to tell you that

even before the joy comes in the morning

(which can take a long time),

even within the weeping,

God is working to bring blessings out of our messes.