I have resisted this idea that my story matters and that I need to tell it.
My story has some really fantastic parts, which I don't mind sharing at all.
My story has some really icky parts, which I think I will keep buried in a deep, dark cave, thanks. As my kids were so fond of saying once upon a time, nobody gots to know.
Lately, I've been hearing again how I need to tell my story. Every time I turn around, that little voice in my head is telling me to write it.
Awwwww, REALLY? *whine* Do I have to?
Someone needs to hear it.
Darn it, it's ICKY. What if I will never be able to show my face in public again? What if it's not only me who's embarrassed?
What if, what if...yada, yada. No one ever said it would be easy or comfortable, but someone needs to hear it.
Good grief, am I really that childish?
Last night I sat down to write a story that is a snapshot of the big picture of my life. At 1:30 a.m., thoroughly frustrated at how difficult this was, I finally fell into bed. I remember waking up a couple times during the night with some of the sentences I had written floating in my semi-consciousness.
The story was finished and submitted for a guest blog post at 1:00 this afternoon. I clicked "Send" as I breathed a quick prayer that God would use it to someone's benefit.
This was uncomfortable, but I feel joyful relief. Yes, our stories matter, and in my case, it's really prideful that I kept it carefully guarded.
Do you have a story that might be uncomfortable to let into the light of day? Will you consider writing it for others?