So it turns out I’m not the only one
obsessed passionate about the power of story. Many of my friends have written on why stories matter, how words change us, beginning well, and much more. Take a few minutes to click over and read their beautiful words!
He assured my worth that day, assured the bravery I didn’t imagine I had, assured the belief I think I knew all along: words matter. I hope you trust me when I say this — there’s someone out there who will never forget the words you’ve given them. Your words matter. And so do you.
Girls rival each other. Women revive each other.
Girls empale each other. Women empower each other.
Girls compare each other. Women champion each other.
I try again because I’m already hidden in Christ, so there’s no need to hide anywhere else.
I try again because God is the generous giver of fresh starts, and grabbing one means I accept that my rocky start is a bump in the story, not the end of it.
Trying again is knowing hope always moves toward the surface, anxious to comfort and hold you. Even the most fledgling of starts can turn into your favorite stories.
You want to make a difference in the world? You want to spread joy? You want to let people know they matter?
It starts with how you walk into a room. It starts with “There you are.”
So you can just let it go – the need for someone else to tell you that your story is important. Because you are already stitched into the only story that matters; the story that starts in the dark, loamy dirt of a garden and ends in the hard won, bright, shining streets of a city on a hill.
Whether you tell it in Zulu or Russian, Afrikaans or English. Whether you press publish or only whisper it to yourself as you rock babies to sleep. Whether you write it on your laptop or longhand in your journal. Your story matters because of the Word that breathes through you.