Years ago, I read a quote by poet Maya Angelou that has stayed with me: “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” None of us was meant to bear the burdens of life alone. No matter if we think we are independent or not, the reality is that we need each other and we need God.
I am getting older. I won’t lie—when I turned 40 I started to notice that my body got a bit creakier and I started to think more about the brevity of life. I am starting to compose my bucket list, realizing that I am not even sure what I want on my bucket list. I have sat and considered my days—my mistakes, my joys, the way God has loved me so well, the way I haven’t loved others so well.
It was only a few weeks ago—over 20 years since I first trusted my life to Christ—that I was hit with the magnitude of a simple word: dependence. A co-worker and I were joking about original sin and, with shortened breath, I found my voice high pitched and anxious. “But I don’t want to have original sin! I don’t want to be a sinner!” I nearly yelled. “If I could not sin, I would!”
Yes, this is Romans 7. Read it!
“It’s like I have to depend on God!” I mused sadly.
There it was. I said it out loud. Since this conversation, I have been considering it—that word that so many of us dread because we think we can live life on our own: dependence.
We simply cannot be the proverbial island on the ocean. It’s simply not possible. God made us to depend upon him. When Jesus walked this earth, he too was dependent upon the Father. And we, for better or worse, are family—dependent upon each other.
This is why what Angelou said is so powerful. Because inside each of us—you and me—there lives a story. No, many stories. The big story of our lives, like who we are and how God made us. And the little stories, like chapters, that make up the whole. When we are forced into silence and must endure the pains and joys and victories and sorrows alone, we go utterly contrary to how God made us. He knew we needed him. And that we needed each other.
When Alyssa Milano tweeted that first tweet years ago, crying out #metoo to start a movement against sexual violence, she knew something that many of us forget too often. Silence is not spiritual. Silence is a life sucker. Silence kills.
Just today I told my husband that it was the first time in as long as I can remember that I missed going to church. We had to be somewhere else and we were unable to come. My heart actually felt sad. You know why? Because of this—people. Because of this goofy and crazy thing called dependence—called community—that is like the very blood rushing through our veins and pumping through our heart over 23,000 times a day.
Why do we live in silence, friends? Seriously, I want to understand. Fear? Lack of community? Because our churches aren’t the places they should be? I’m so tired of the silent stories, of the “untold agony” Angelou spoke of.
When I was young my dad used to tell me that there is one thing all people want—to be acknowledged. They want their lives to matter.
We want to matter.
I want to say something to you right now and I want you to believe me: You matter.
Have you heard that today? Probably not, especially if you are having a bad day or have made mistakes. Or if you aren’t surrounded by people who have that elusive and amazing gift—the gift of encouragement, the gift of words.
Ecclesiastes 3 says that God has made everything beautiful in its time. The passage talks about birth, death, tearing down, building up, weeping, laughing, mourning, dancing. All the stories inside of you matter. And all, in God’s beautiful time, need to be told. Too often, we’ve come to believe that only the good things deserve a place at the dinner conversation. Only the joys and praises deserve 5, 10, 20 minutes of conversation.
If God made us to depend on him and each other, then it’s not a matter of if,but when when it comes to sharing our stories—ALL of our stories.
Indian-born Canadian poet Rupi Kaur stated it this way: “We are all born so beautiful. The greatest tragedy is being convinced we are not.”
Inside of you and me is beauty that has sometimes emerged in darkness and sometimes in joy. Don’t mistake it. The dark can be beautiful someday. But the dark must come to the light to be exposed, corrected, and repurposed.
I want to hear your story, friends. The world needs to hear your story.
Write me.
Much love, Laurie
Questions for Reflection for You
- Consider your life. What stories make up your life?
- What has been the role of your faith in the ups and downs of your life?
- What would it look like to see the good and bad of your life as something “beautiful in its time”?