Each of us walks around as an unfinished book. We are being written, slowly. Our stories progress as each chapter of our lives unfolds. Some pages of our stories are torn and splotchy. Other parts are crisp and beautiful.

Regardless of the way each page of our story looks, we all have stories. No one comes to the table empty handed. No one lacks the capacity to embody their story.

I once heard the story of a teenaged girl living in the heart of the inner city. Because of an absent father, it was a story of pain. Because of a passion for swimming, it was a story of determination. Because of life in the inner city, it was a story of fear. Because of a supportive family, it was a story of love. If I had not listened to this young woman’s story, I would not have seen her true self or understood who she was.

I think there is little more important than the sharing of stories. In fact, it is the very nature of a story to be shared. What good is a story if it sits on a shelf, gathers dust and remains closed?

In her book I Know Why The Caged Birds Sing, Maya Angelou wrote:

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside of you.”

Without the practice of hearing and sharing stories, we will refuse to see the world from another’s eyes, and we will never be able to understand ourselves. We need stories so desperately. Without them, our ability to connect with and relate to each other would be tremendously hindered.

Especially in today’s tense national climate, the act of sharing stories is more significant than ever. The political arena is completely polarized and totally at odds. There is a divide too deep and too dark for any policy change, court ruling or presidential speech to heal.

Our solution to this deep divide should rise from desire to share and hear stories—and not only the stories we want to hear, but the stories we need to hear.

When a social worker shares his story, will you listen?

When a refugee family shares their story, will you listen?

When a politician shares her story, will you listen?

When a Muslim shares his story, will you listen?

When a pastor shares her story, will you listen?

When prisoners shares their stories, will you listen?

When a young immigrant shares his story, will you listen?

When a pregnant teenager shares her story, will you listen?

When a business man shares his story, will you listen?

When LGBTQ+ members share their story, will you listen?

Listen to the stories of others, for listening is an act of grace. Invest in those around you. Hear their stories and learn from their perspectives.

Our purpose for giving and receiving stories should never be for exploitation of others or praise for ourselves; rather, our stories are meant for the furthering of true communion with each other. Communities flourish when stories are shared and understood. And as we move toward the vision of more loving and just communities, we inch toward the heavenly realities of sweet shalom and true love.