Guest Blog by Dora A K

Dora AK affably accepted my request to write a guest blog about this site’s key idea, “the power of story to speak truth into people’s lives.” Here, she addresses not only the power of stories told, but of stories and faith (key themes of her own) well-lived.

Memories…

Like sitting around a campfire with friends, feeling the October night grow colder. Seeing me shiver, someone whips the other half of their blanket around me, and we sit enfolded in the glow of comradery, shared warmth.

A red marble and a million other things roll out of an old lady’s handbag as it falls out of her grasp. We scramble under seats to retrieve every last item.

Afterward, the woman sits talking about the red marble still in her hand. It’s something her son gave her when he was a small child. It was the most precious “something” he had to give her at the time, and he gave it with love writ large on his face.

He’s been dead now for many years. But she keeps that marble in her bag. After a moment, she holds it out to me as a gift, “for listening to an old woman ramble,” she says with tears in her eyes. Shocked, I refuse, but she keeps insisting. I finally take it, my own eyes bright with unshed tears.

The plain before us is dark as we stand waiting for the expected attack. Suddenly, red fires begin appearing, first distantly then nearer, until finally there are fires all around us and the drumbeats grow louder and louder. The battle is upon us. The night will be long.

As it wears on, the bodies of the slain multiply. We fight with purpose—defending the innocent—until dawn, our strength fading and our forces slowly dwindling. Suddenly, in the distance, a horn sounds and we look up. Relief has finally arrived. The battle has turned.

Memories…or stories?

That campfire with the shared blanket? I saw that in a movie. The red marble incident? I read that on a blog. The battle fought on the darkling plain? I read that in a Tolkien novel.

But the force of these stories has become as much mine as any memory: a young girl wanting deep friendship with peers; a grown woman wanting to be kind and loving to everyone; the need to live and fight for something higher than myself. These stories help me to have what I didn’t have but achieve what I can achieve.

This is the power of story. And none of us is immune to it.

Did you know that your faith is like that? It’s a story lived out daily before your family, friends, and the world. It tells the story of Christ Jesus, how he is your blanket, your red marble, your hope of a battle won that lasts for eternity. So tell it well, friends.

There are those who are listening.