Writing to Heal: A Story

The Story Begins

This past week, I had the great pleasure of gathering with around 400 other women bloggers at the Allume conference. When asked what I blog about, I said something like this:

The Living Story blog helps people learn how God has written his story of grace into the cosmos and into our lives and helps them live in that story.

Why Write Hard Stories

Today, I’m going to share a hard story, a story of feeling humiliated.
Here’s what I don’t want to happen with this:

• for you to feel sorry for me.
• for you to make judgments about anyone.

Here’s what I hope will happen:

• that you will write for at least fifteen minutes over 3 days about one of your own hard stories.
• That you will ask, pray, wonder aloud or in writing to God what He was up to in those stories.

Here’s why:

• Scientific research has shown that writing stories helps us heal.
• It is a gospel reality that God redeems EVERYTHING (Genesis 50: 20).
• When we write our stories as a way of processing them with God, the Holy Spirit shows us more about God — his glory, holiness, love, and power. The Spirit also shows us more about ourselves – our glory in his image, our sin, and Christ’s redemption.

With that background, here is Part 1. (This is going to be like one of those serial short stories in the newspapers of old — but don’t worry, you’ll get the next installment within two days! (Make sure you’ve subscribed to the blog if you want to receive it in your inbox!).

An Introvert at a Blogger’s Conference: A Story of Shame and Redemption

It had been a rough two weeks, the kind of weeks that you have to remind yourself will make a really good story one day, except in some ways, receiving a dread diagnosis about your Dad’s cancer doesn’t at first seem like it will ever be a really good story one day. But healthcare was done for the week, so I decided to head on to the Allume conference, which I had signed up for months ago.

Introversion

To understand this story, you have to know I’m an introvert. It’s surprising to some, especially since I’m a leader and a teacher. Plus, I really enjoy meeting new people and getting to know their stories.

But I can only do so much before I’m drained. I draw energy from being alone or in a small group of close friends. I am easily over stimulated by lots of noise and activity. So conferences can be challenging, especially when I don’t know anyone there.

That was the case at the Allume conference, so I asked some friends and family to pray particularly for me to be bold and outgoing.

Walking into the Unfamiliar

After a 7-hour drive and a stop at Whole Foods, I made it to the hotel, schlepped my stuff to my room, and spent some time looking through the plentiful swag bag. At 5 till 6, I headed downstairs, where to reach the main ballroom, I had to make my way through a hallway crowded with chattering women and tables spilling over with brightly colored jewels, hundreds of books, shoes, clothes and other merch. (This would be my friend Marcia’s dream scene, but you might guess it was a little daunting for me:-)!)

The expansive main ballroom was filled with lovingly decorated round tables for nine. Taking a deep breath and asking God one more time to help me, I entered, searching for a spot.

My strategy was to find a person or people who looked like they might be “strangers,” “outsiders,” or at the very least, different from me. One thing I have learned about my introversion is that I’m not alone, and reaching out to others helps me get over my own self-consciousness.

Awkwardness, Isolation, and Shame

I spotted a table where four women were already seated and asked if I could join them. One woman looked at me and nodded non-committedly, but quickly turned back to talk with her friend. The woman seated on my right rose as I sat, leaving to talk to a long-lost friend. The fourth woman was far across the table from me and blocked by a centerpiece. So there I was. Just sitting there with my food, feeling …extremely…awkward.

A few minutes later, three other women joined the table, leaving the spot to my left open (I think they assumed I might have a friend joining me). They turned inward toward one another, continuing a lively conversation.

Because this is a blog, I’m going to share a diagram with you of what the table looked like, but I’m going to try to describe in words what I felt like.

I sat in the middle of a large table, with women all around me. The seats on either side of me were empty. Three women to my right were talking earnestly to one another, and three women to my left were chatting away happily.

I keenly felt my aloneness – literally isolated in a teeming sea of fellow women. But I was still hopeful – I figured eventually someone would sit next to me on the left, and the woman on my right would return, so this awful moment wouldn’t last forever.

In fact, the woman to my right did return, but she scooched her chair closer to her friends, distancing herself from me. And when a woman came to sit on my left, it was clear she actually wanted to sit in my place, next to her friend on my right.

Thunk! That was the sound of my heart landing in my stomach.

Now I felt really stupid.

And yes, I’m breaking the story here, because statistics (which I learned at the fabulous conference!) tell me that 900 words is more than most people will read, and we are a little past that. Stay tuned till tomorrow for the “rest of the story,” and some more help writing your stories. Be sure to subscribe if you haven’t already!