Tonight we told our story. We had guests over, ones who wanted to hear, and because they work in similar things, in similar places, they could understand and wanted to hear.
So we told them our story. Its been several months now - not quiet months among our friends... more troubles followed more troubles followed even more. The troubles have not ended even now. I feel odd sometimes sitting here in peace and safety.... others are in trouble now, we think of them, pray for them, work for them... We are ok... it is over for us.
It is. All that is true. At times we feel odd, not guilty, but odd... why are we blessed and in comfort while others aren't?
All that is true.
But it is still a blessing to be able to tell our story. With each telling, we hear it again. We sort through it. We process it. My story is mine. My husband's is his. We went through different things. Different reactions. Different struggles. Different victories.
We never got to tell our story really. He told his once to people combing for details. I did not tell mine then - no details were needed from me. We told it again to a group - again looking for lessons and details... We both told them then. That ended in a huge conflict of people upset and angry with us.
We rarely told our story after that. Once or twice to a group - in ten minutes. My inability to tell it made it very difficult for me to process the event. I need to talk to think. I need to write to think. To put things to words. The most I told my story was on my blog. Then once we had coworkers from another organization visit, and we told our story - both his and mine. The first time that both of us in detail told our story - not just events, but some feelings too. That was good.
But then troubles began, and our story got put to the side. Time to help others. I don't for one minute regret helping others. I would do it again.
But we hadn't been able to tell our story well. To tell my story. To be heard. I still have an aching gap - something I would love to say that I haven't been able to say. Not everything can be written on my blog, and I haven't been able to tell some things. It has grown into a settled sadness, an awareness that it may never be told. I haven't been heard well, and may not be.
Tonight, though, we told our story. I know it is months later, and there are other crisis going on. But to be given the chance to tell again. This time the people listening wanted to know our stories - how we felt, how we dealt with emotions. No one has ever asked the "how did you feel?" questions before. No one.
I needed to tell my story. I needed to be heard. I will likely need it again. In letting me tell my story - not for your entertainment and curiosity, not for your lessons to be learned, but to hear me - you help me heal.
Who needs you to listen to their story today? What story do you have that needs listening to?