
Telling and listening – Two Proofs that Story Matters
“I thought, if I die, at least Katrina has my story. Maybe my life was worth something after all.”
Let us run with patience the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus…
(Hebrews 12:1-2)
“I thought, if I die, at least Katrina has my story. Maybe my life was worth something after all.”
Countless meals around Lloyd and Bev’s long dining table. Planning church. Having church. Praying. Their house was often the only one big enough to fit. A lot of us were single and rarely cooked anything decent, and Bev’s cooking was like balm in Gilead.
Go hug someone from a different race than your own or tell them you love them. Weird? For a Christian, not as weird as ignoring them or looking the other way. Besides, you can tell someone you love them in a thousand different ways, and one of those ways will feel natural to you.
Listening reminds us that we are all humans made in the image of God, desperately in need of a Savior. Listening makes us ache for the pain and loss of others, especially if they don’t know Jesus. And listening offers dignity to the storyteller, reminding them that they matter.
The world is desperately broken. Jesus is the only lasting answer. But people like Marnell and I who grew up in wonderful families on cozy green homesteads in the country, often struggle to know how to share Jesus in the hard places. We can’t save the world. Sometimes we want to run. But there is one thing that Jesus does for us, that we can all do for others.
We showed the footage of the thief to a neighbor. He thought the thief was the same man as the shooter. Marnell showed the picture of the thief to another neighbor. THAT neighbor said that the first neighbor was so drunk when he saw the shooter that he could not possibly be considered reliable.