The Power of Your Story
“What if your story is the key that unlocks the prison someone else has been living in?”
I heard this question asked from a stage a few years ago and it sat with me for days. It was like a carrier pigeon bringing a word that would challenge my innate need to keep my story, well…mine. I didn’t want people to look at me the way I looked at myself. For all they knew, I was the quiet one who kept to herself, liked to be alone more times than not, and had a ready smile for anyone who crossed her path. I had created a well tuned façade and if I just kept my mouth shut no one would ever know. They’d never see just how exhausting it was to be that version of me.
I was fresh into my rededication of my life to Christ and I was sitting there in that cushioned chair looking at the woman on stage like I had never heard anyone speak before. What did she just say?!
Wait…you mean to tell me that sharing MY story, can be instrumental in helping someone else? I really don’t understand how sharing that mess can help someone?
But the concept just would…not…leave my mind, so I decided to test it out.
The minute I opened my mouth and shared a part of my story, something within me broke free. I don’t know if this happens for everyone when they share, but I felt it. It was like a heavy chain that was wrapped around my heart was broken in two and fell straight to the floor. There was a lightness to me that wasn’t there before.
But wait, wasn’t my story supposed to set someone else free?! Why am I experiencing the freedom?
I really can’t say why it works that way, but every single time I feel the nudge to share my story I become a little lighter. And time after time, someone in the room realizes they’re not alone. I don’t always get to hear about the fruit that comes from obeying that nudge, but when I do it overwhelms me every time. There is a reason the Bible says “we will overcome by the Blood of the Lamb and the Word of our TESTIMONY.”
There is power in your story.
The other day during a meeting for the writers group I’m a part of, a friend had an idea for a free writing exercise. We were to take 10 minutes and just write without stopping anything and everything that came to mind. We were attempting this at the end of the meeting that evening and to be honest I was pretty sleepy. I was seriously doubting if I would write anything other than “blah blah blah”. But I prayed before the timeclock started and asked Holy Spirit to come and help a sister out. As the timer began ticking away I found that a fear driven doubt began to emerge in the form of a poem. And as I wrote it out I began to break agreement with the lie and write words of belief. It’s funny how even sharing my current story with myself broke me free from a cage I was sitting in.
Below is the poem I wrote, I hope it inspires you to be bold, brave, and the life line someone else desperately needs. Be the key that unlocks the prison for someone else.
I Wield My Pen
By: Hillary Murphy
When I think about the magnitude of writing and sharing my journey with You, I can’t help but feel overwhelmed.
Ill-equipped and unworthy.
How can I, a mere individual of little importance, wield the pen that will spill out the wonder and majesty of Your works in my life?
It’s humbling…and scary. Yet oh so crave worthy!
To be given the call to allow Your acts of love and goodness in my life to flow out in bold blue letters.
To co-labor with You as You narrate the greatest love story I’ve ever known.
And yet I hear those old lies trying to steal my ink as I hold the feathered pen. Each one like a grain of sand trying to dry up the ink in the pot. I drop the pen to cover my ears.
But Your voice is stronger.
Hidden in my heart it cuts through. Your voice resonates through every fiber of my being.
Hewn and forged through years of reading Your Love Letter.
Each moment a link in the chain of armor that covers the place where my heart rests.
Each word reminding me of Your goodness and unwavering character that sought me out and loved me back to life.
That voice I hear, the still small voice that BOOMS within and throughout the timeline of my life calms me.
As I hear You speak the tender sweet words of truth and identity over me, I reach back down for my pen and dip it gently in the inkwell.
The lyrical voice of Love and Worth singing in my ears fills me with renewed confidence and vigor to wield the weapon in my hand.
The weapon that will spell out a story of redemption and victory!
I feel the words rising up within me, like a geyser with volcanic heat below.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath…open and exhale.
My pen touches the paper…
