One Missing Tile

I stared at my computer. How much do I tell them? All of it. All of it, God? This is your story. Tell it. I was working on a talk I was giving later in the week and I felt lost. Could I really share my story? My family didn’t even know the extent of what I’d experienced. Yet I felt God telling me to share it. Someone needed to hear it. In reality, the only consolation I felt was that I’d be speaking to a roomful of mostly strangers I’d never have to face again.

At the end of it, two different women approached me. One thanked me for my honesty and began telling me about her best friend who was currently going through the exact same situation. Then she asked me a question that stopped me in my tracks. “Is this on your blog? It would be great for her to read about it herself.” Remember my consolation? I hid myself behind the mask of speaking to strangers. Nobody I knew needed to know the whole story yet. However, when she asked me this, I realized that by not sharing my whole story to my readers, I was being disobedient to God, and in effect possibly keeping others from being encouraged in similar situations.

Shortly after I began the conversation with the second woman, she started to weep. Her current situation mirrored my own. She felt so grateful that I was able to share how God helped me through that time. One year later, I happened to run in to her at a different speaking engagement. She asked if I remembered her and I told her not only did I remember her, but I had been praying for her. I asked how things were with her husband. Not surprisingly, she replied things were great!

After the initial talk I went home feeling heavy. I prayed, asking God for courage. Not too long after I finally mustered enough guts to post a two-part blog, “Honesty Is the Best Policy.” There it was. Out for my family and friends to see. I knew I’d pleased God even though my hands shook as I clicked “submit.”

Recently, my husband and I spent a night at hotel with a lovely mosaic design on the bathroom floor. As I enjoyed it, God spoke to me. What if one of those tiles was missing? Would it be as beautiful? While it would be pretty, that one area would mar the entire piece.

We all have a story to tell. Every single thing that happens to me has a purpose that makes up my life story. My beautiful mosaic. If I didn’t go through that ugly time, my story would be missing a tile. What’s your beautiful story? What’s keeping you from sharing?