The Power of Story

Anybody who knows me, knows how much I love a good story. I love to hear great stories and I certainly love to tell great stories.

I guess my love of a good story has many origins. As a child I would listen to my mom’s family tell stories at gatherings. (And my family certainly has some great stories). We always laughed. Sometimes we laughed until we cried. Other times we just cried. We connected with each other every time. Oh man if I could just experience that one more time. I’d listen a little closer and cherish the moment a little more.

When I was in grade school, a story teller came to Cameron Park Elementary. I don’t remember her last name but her first name was Jackie. I still remember her telling a story about a cold snake who convinced a young boy to pick him up and put him in his pocket so he could get warm. He promised not to bite the boy and despite the boys trepidation, he had pity on the snake and put him in his pocket to get warm. Sure enough, later when the boy reached in his pocket, the snake bit him. The boy was incredulous. How could you bite me after I had pity on you to get you warm and you promised not to bite me? I can still see the expression on Jackie’s face as she gave the moral of the story. “Yes, but you knew I was a snake.” It’s a lesson I will never forget because she told a great story.

What makes story so powerful? Well, when you think about it, stories grow deep roots into our souls and bear fruit in our lives in ways we cannot fully calculate. They make deep grooves in our neural pathways that are hard to erase. Stories have a way of creating community and belonging. They give space for others to fit themselves into the fabric of your life and lets them see how you fit into the fabric of their life. They give a place of belonging and common experience. They often explain what is visible in someone’s life by giving the context that would have otherwise continued to live beneath the surface. They have the power to transform and inspire. They have the power to drive home a truth in a way a simple explanation cannot. Don’t you agree?

Stories have a way of creating a common experience and community. This is true no matter what tribe you belong to. The folks at First Baptist Sanford will never forget June 14, 1996 and the 28 people in those two church vans and their families are forever linked by the events of that night. The folks at Central Baptist Church will likely never forget the dogs versus cats illustration and I will never forget their reaction. The folks on that mission trip to Gulfport after Hurricane Katrina will never forget me saying, “That ain’t good” as we ran out of gas about a quarter mile from the gas station. I am certain they will never forget Becky Renfro attempting to use her body weight from the third row of that 15 passenger van to create momentum for us to make it to the gas pump. We did make it. I don’t think Becky had anything to do with it. The CMT family will never forget my spectacular fall or the awesome lunches around the table in the kitchen. My brothers at Pinecroft Sedgefield Fire Department will never forget the thousand funny moments that live on in infamy even if they can never be shared publicly. The Definition Church family will never forget the time Brian Rountree from the parking team weathered a tropical storm with joy by directing traffic in the parking lot wearing goggles, a snorkel and swim fins. My family will never forget the time we were talking about being cremated and each was sharing where they wanted their ashes to be spread. We decided Caleb’s ashes should be stored in a whoopee cushion. None of these stories mean much to most of you but for those who experienced them, it is a common language, a reminder we belonged to a community and made a bond that will not be broken. Such is the power of story.

Stories also have a way of taking us back to a place and time. They keep alive the moments of a our lives we would love to relive. They allow our loved ones who have died to live on in our hearts and minds.

Last Mother’s Day, I took mom for a trip down memory lane. We visited the places we lived, worked and played. It was a full day. And while we drove around, we shared stories. I mostly listened to mom describe growing up and what she remembered about each place we visited. I wish I had recorded them. For me they are now precious memories of mom that I can treasure in the days ahead when grief randomly sneaks up on me. For her, they were more. They were vivid pictures of some really good times with family who have died. They were reminders of the really fun times and gave us both a chance to lose ourselves in laughter. They were an acknowledgement that life is sometimes tough and usually somebody walks into our lives in that moment to help us through. As I look back now, I realize for mom it was more. That day was a reminder of how much she had accomplished in her life. How much she had overcome. In hindsight, her summary was prophetic. “You know son, I have had a good life.” “Yeah mom, I’d say you’re right. And you made a difference with your life.”

Recently I shared some good stories at mom’s funeral. I wouldn’t trade that moment for anything. There were a hundred more stories I could have told and those in attendance could have shared a few as well. What strikes me about that experience is that as I shared those stories how those present became part of the story. They laughed. They made knowing looks. They nodded. Why? Because those stories captured the essence of my mom and those attending were part of her story. All of our stories intersected with hers. And it took us back into specific points in time with her, in vivid color.

Stories also have the power to drive home truth. Think about your favorite communicators. I would bet many of them have an ability to position a story in such a way to drive a point home. Such is the case with a couple of my favorite musicians. Brad Paisley and his ability to tell story in a song helped me tell my mom and stepdad that Kaylee was on the way. What better song to be a backdrop for a PowerPoint slideshow than “He Didn’t Have To Be” (SnapChat, Facebook, Instagram and TikTok didn’t exist). That song told a similar version of my story. Mike became the dad to me he didn’t have to be. Even now when I hear it, I get a lump in my throat thinking about him and I get a kick in the pants to parent my kids well. But Brad Paisley has several great story songs – “I’m Gonna Miss Her”, “Remind Me”, “We Danced”, “Letter To Me”, “Online”, “Mud On The Tires”, “Last Time For Everything”, and more. Brad, if you ever read this, I am a fan and love the way you tell a story in your songs. Thank you for capturing so many peoples stories with your songs. I don’t sing but I’d love to sit around with you and share some good stories.

One of my favorite journalists is Steve Hartman. His “On The Road” segments are a goldmine of awesome stories and he tells them with such artistry. For a season, he would throw a dart at the map, travel to that town and randomly pick a person out of the phone book. He would interview that person and tell their story. Each time, that person would say they don’t really have a story but without fail, Steve Hartman would not only land on their story he would tell it in an unbelievably powerful way. Enjoy these few. (Detective Adopts Boys; Detective Gets Married; WWII Veteran Learns to Read). Steve, if you ever read this, I tell people if I could have dinner with one person, it would be you. I don’t even mind coming to you and will pick up the tab.

Ironman Triathlon has captured the story of their sport so beautifully each year as they broadcast the World Championship Race in Hawaii. I did triathlon because I saw the Dick and Ricky Hoyt story. But along the way, I learned more stories. Sarah Reinertsen and her Unfinished Business. There are thousands of awesome stories captured by NBC Sports at the Ironman World Championships. Do yourself a favor and search for them on YouTube.

I love movies like Invincible, Rudy and Remember the Titans. Why? Because they are based on true stories and tell powerfully inspiring stories.

Why do I share all of these examples? Because they inspire, give hope, challenge, and encourage. Right? They needed to be told. They made a difference. Such it is with our story. It tells the most personal and intimate details of our life and reflects our value, uniqueness and worth. But our story is not just our story. Isn’t it His story in us? Doesn’t it describe how God has worked to bring us to the point we are? Doesn’t it declare his goodness in spite of difficulty? Isn’t it a reminder of His grace and love? So, don’t be too shy with your story. Tell it. While it may never be a song, tv spot or movie, in someone’s life it will have the same power to inspire, give hope, challenge and encourage. Be brave, take the chance and share it. Who knows, it may just change someone’s life.

I remember the first time I really came to grips with my own story with my biological dad. I ignored it for a long time. But the summer of 1996 brought it to the surface in a very real way and I finally talked about it out loud with someone. Not only did I find healing but I discovered as I shared my story, a lot of people had a similar story and my sharing gave them the opportunity to find healing too. It’s still a work in process for me but the more freely I share the greater freedom I find and the more chances I have hear other people tell similar stories for the first time. Again, my story is not just my story, it is His story in me, right?

I’d like issue a challenge here. When someone shares their story with you, treat it as a sacred thing. You have been invited behind the curtain, inside a private, personal place. This is not some opportunity for a juicy bit of gossip – instead honor that vulnerability. Listen, affirm, encourage, show gratitude. Always use what you learn in that sacred moment to understand and love that person more fully. Demonstrate your acceptance. Be a safe place. Never use what you learn in that sacred moment to wound or expose.

So what do you say, shall we tell our story? Can we be trusted with other people’s stories? Will it make any difference? I think it may change the world.