Luke 15:11, "...There was a man who had two sons..."
Stories are important. Telling each other important events that hold special meaning, listening to the trials and triumphs of others. They connect us, they build us into a better community of friendships. They help us navigate the dark roads of life and navigate with pleasure the wide sweeping joyful paths that we also walk.
I hear stories every day in my line of work. But I bet you do too. If you work at the grocery store, the fast food place, the post office or the school I bet you will find, if you really listen, that there are lots of stories to hear.
Some people are spilling over with anticipation to share some stories they have and you'll get drenched in the process because they have so much to share. Others are like a dripping faucet on a quiet night, just an occasional drip here and there, loud and unexpected and rare. A precious jewel for that person to share something with you.
Stories are a way of explaining how we are feeling, what we are thinking, without having to directly do either of those things. A simile of our deepest fears and desires on a superficial level shared with someone else by way of explaining the morning traffic or our latest break up story.
When we share stories they have a smidgen of truth underneath, even if the story is inconsequential, fiction or something that happened so many years ago. Our stories, big or small, reveal truths about ourself without us really realizing it at the time.
Life is full of the sharing of stories: movies, music, books, poems, conversations, texts, pictures, embraces, longing looks and piercing gazes. Stories are short and long, silly and sincere but they all say something.
Listen today to what is being said. Listen.
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