Let Me Tell You My Story

I was blessed this weekend to speak four times at the South Main Church of Christ in Greenville, MS on the subject of grief recovery. Their kind and compassionate preacher is Danny Holman. I was unsure how this would be received, especially in the frenzy of the holiday season. But I should have known that grief knows no season.

Saturday night, with around 40 people gathered, I presented some information about understanding grief. I could not have known ahead of time but there were several people there who were hurting from losses that were fairly recent. After the presentation we had a time of questions, answers, discussions … and I was caught by surprise at the interactions both during and after class.

Even today, as I taught three times, I felt privileged that people wanted to tell me their story. As the presenter, I was able to tell our story. What is there about sharing our significant losses with each other that has such power?

The tears that were shed this weekend as gracious souls shared the thorns that pierced their hearts … losses of husbands, wives, sons, daughters, brothers and sisters … mothers and dads … all served to unite us together in our journey of grief and sorrow.

Maybe that’s why on this blog many times I have told our story. It’s one thing to read a testimony, but quite another to hear the words expressing significant loss, to watch the tears fall down flushed cheeks, and to hug one another in Christian love. And to know in our hearts that we hurt presently, but our hope is in a place where this pain will no longer interrupt our lives.

I’m thankful to the South Main church for their leadership among churches in the Mississippi Delta for many years. I’ve known many of the good people of this church for a long time. I’m ¬†grateful for the opportunity to share part of my journey with them, and to join them on theirs.

Maybe there’s someone near ¬†you who needs to tell their story? Let us listen.


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