31 STORIES OF FAITH ADVENTURES
DAY 29: SPEAKING
Public speaking is not my jam. I have never done well with it; I’ve gotten better at it, but I still struggle.
In 2013, three years after losing my brother, sharing publicly about the loss of my little brother seemed like a crazy idea, but I volunteered to do it anyway.
July 21, 2010, I lost my little brother Jeffrey to suicide.
It was two days before the 2010 God Has Not Forgotten You, Jesus Loves You Celebration, a yearly outreach by our church. We invite people from every walk of life, from all over our city.
Three years later, I knew God wanted me to share.
I knew how hard it would be for me to keep my thoughts straight and share about such a horrendous event. I knew I would be nervous and possibly distraught. I decided to to write out exactly what I wanted to say, and I stood at the microphone and read it.
Here is what I read:
God used this testimony. At the end of the night, I prayed with a girl named Misty. She was about the same age as my brother had been when he ended his life. Misty was struggling with drug addiction, and wanted to ask God to help her. Praying with Misty was a blessing because I knew, if it was only this one thing, something good was coming from this tragedy. The last thing I want is nothing good to come from the loss of my brother. It has been my prayer from the day I learned of his death.
God put a new calling in my heart in this last year, and that calling is to share my stories, mainly the story of losing my brother. I believe God can use stories to heal hearts and change hearts. Jesus spoke with stories, parables, because He knows the power of a story.
Sharing a story takes faith. Putting out something tender and vulnerable into a rough and tumble world is scary. Will it be trampled or will it grow?
I’m following God’s calling to share my stories. I’m taking that faith adventure right now.
I love music, and I like to share a song with each blog post. Chris Bell died young in a car crash. I watched a documentary about him, and his sister had taken the job of preserving his memory and music. Watching her share about her little brother, I knew some of her pain. I admired her strength in sharing her story.