What an honor it is to hear people’s stories. Their experiences, their journeys. The way they dream, the beauty of their adventures. I find myself rejoicing with them in their triumphs, crying with them in their pain. I laugh in the moments filled with humor and hold my breath as the intensity rises. And as I listen to people’s life stories, I try to take a moment to understand what it’s like to be in their shoes.
I have not published any of those stories lately. It’s been a while, I know. A really long time, in fact.
I could apologize and make all kinds of excuses.
But I’m not here to say I’m sorry. Because I’ve come to realize the weight and importance of the stories. And sometimes, it simply isn’t my place to share the stories. Not on a blog or in a written form. It wouldn’t be right.
No, sometimes my role is not to write, but to listen. To offer an ear. To hold a hand. To be there. In that moment. During the recount.
Currently I find myself in a season of life where the stories I’m hearing are often filled with pain or questions. The stories’ owners are looking for a listening ear, for help, or for counsel.
These stories could be seen as defeat. As sad tales. As the end.
And yet, that’s not the case. Even in the midst of the harsh conditions, I see each these stories as one thing:
If you’re still breathing, you’re still living. And if you’re still living, you’ve got time to write a new chapter.
So while I am sad I don’t have a story to share with you right now, I am thankful for the opportunity to be there for people who want to share their stories.
For now I’ll keep listening, and keep encouraging people to write their next chapter.