I was born into a family of story tellers. At every family gathering my dad joined by his brothers and sister (seven in all) relive events from their childhood. Grandpa laughs. Grandma roles her eyes. But Grandpa, he is the real story teller. From sonnets written to my grandmother to personalized poems in birthday cards. He’s the story teller.
So I thought I’d try my hand at following in my grandfather’s footsteps and become a story teller.
The Lord has given me a strong gift of empathy. This past March I was struggling with how to steward that gift well. I came to the point where I asked the Lord why he gave me this gift because I did not particularly want it. A week later I sat across the table from a friend discussing the topic of spoken word [definition: poetry that is meant to be spoken aloud]. I thought I would enjoy spoken word because 1.) I love writing and 2.) I love public speaking. So it’s kind of perfect. As we talked my friend mentioned that you can’t write spoken word about emotions you’ve never felt before. Easy. I can feel all the feelings all time.
So that day I sat down and started writing. Within 48 hours I had completed writing my first spoken word. But it didn’t just stop there. As I sat in a living room with my new residence life staff, our resident directory described how he sees his job as being a story collector.
That is what I am to be.
My dream is to be a collector and teller of stories, my own and otherwise. With the help of my sister and brother-in-law, I have developed a video of one of the first spoken words I wrote. You can find it here.
Through it all, my overall desire is to glorify the Lord with each word that falls from my lips.
So here is to doing just that.
Until Next Time,