The worship practice had wrapped up and the couples who had invited us to grab some food after extended their invitation once again. Even though it was late and I was tired, I nodded at my husband, signaling yes, we should go. Building relationships with people in my church is something I want to improve on this year, and that can only happen when we spend time with them.
We sat together, chatting over french fries and hamburgers. We shared book recommendations, griped about jobs, rolled our eyes at people taking articles from The Onion seriously. We discussed our church, and someone mentioned that there was a yearly sermon series that was simply people from the congregation sharing bits of their stories to help encourage one another. As one of the groups was talking about it, one of the women there was shaking her head. She said that she didn’t feel like she could share in something like that because she was worried that whatever story she would share might not be relatable to the congregation at large. Maybe to a small group of friends, but not something for everyone.
I can understand where she’s coming from. I struggle with talking about my story. For one thing, there is little glory in writing about an affair, a divorce, and a remarriage. It’s humiliating to put that dirty laundry out there for people to pick over and quietly shake their heads at you.
Today is my last day over at A Deeper Story. It is closing its virtual doors and going silent at the end of this month. I’m so honored to have had the opportunity to be a storyteller in that space – it is one of my proudest achievements as a writer so far. It has pushed me to be a better writer and has put me in contact with some of the best writers that I’ve met. I’m sad to see this chapter end, but excited to see what new adventures lie ahead.