The Power of Sharing Our Stories

This week I attended the last program of our women’s series on healing at my church. This one was a recap of the four previous programs and ended up with a segment on sharing. We were invited to share our journey over the past five weeks, what we’ve learned, how our life has changed because of what we’ve experienced through attending the sessions.

The second week each participant chose a word from a basket of little pieces of paper with one word each on them. The idea was to meditate on that word and find out what special meaning it had in your life. I missed that week, so I got my word later. It wasn’t until this week, and people began sharing, that I realized everyone got a different word. For some reason, I had thought they just put five or six standard words in the basket and recycled them. But no. They had prepared 120 words, and each participant received the word that was especially meant for her at this point in her life.

As each woman who chose to speak stood and explained what her word was, and the meaning she found in it, the stories that unfolded were both heartwarming and tragic. There’s so much pain in the world, and women, who are relational, and who have awesome powers of endurance, seem to be the ones chosen to carry that pain. We care about the people we love, the people we serve, and in doing so, take their pain as our own.

Our church also has a special ministry, called the prayer shawl ministry. It was started by a woman whose sister was dying and while in her hospital bed, she received a prayer shawl to comfort her. A prayer shawl is one that has been knitted for the specific purpose of providing comfort to someone in need, and has been blessed and prayed over by the prayer shawl group after one member creates it. The person who creates it and the person who receives it most often will never meet, but you can also receive a prayer shawl from a friend, as I have.

This woman lost her sister, but brought the prayer shawl idea home, and started a new ministry within the church. Now they meet twice a week to knit shawls and bless them for others. Since the program was started, they have given out nearly 300 prayer shawls.

Since the evening’s topic was sharing, a few women had come prepared with stories to tell, to get the ball rolling. Each was visibly shaken by the telling, and broke down in tears. The women who listened, or received these stories into our hearts, were also visibly affected. Sniffles and hugs and hand holding and comforting rubs on the back abounded.

Then other women stood and voluntarily offered their stories, mostly about the word they had chosen and how they had tied it into their lives. Some of the words mentioned were trust, choices, focus, faith, healing, and solitude. One woman said when she read her word, she thought, “What a stupid word.” After the laughter died down, nods and murmurs of agreement ensued.

But in each case, the woman agreed that God knew what He was doing, when He presented her with that word, and reflecting on it had changed her way of thinking.

At the end, the prayer shawl ministry leader rose and asked if the group could present shawls to the women among us most in need of comfort. No one turned one down. Would you? Six shawls were brought out and prayed over by all of us, then lovingly draped across the shoulders of the women who had shared, and smiles and hugs ensued all around.

It was a powerful, moving experience. And the comment was made that we are all sisters in our pain and suffering, and that most times women are so busy being strong for others and trying to hold our families or situations together, that there’s no one there to comfort us. Mainly because women tend to suffer in silence. We don’t share our burdens, because we don’t want to burden anyone. We all know already how it feels to be the one who carries the burdens of others, and don’t want to intrude.

But women need to share. Not just our sorrows, but our joys and celebrations as well. There is a delicate balance to life, and within each tragedy arises hope if we will let it, and within each celebration comes the promise of sorrow. It’s simply the way things are. Life is not an endless series of highs, or an endless series of lows, but rather a blending of the two that move in a never-ending cycle. Have you ever seen someone crying for joy? A perfect example of the balance as it should be.

I have long believed that what brings you great joy will bring you an equal amount of pain. Therefore I go into any situation that brings me joy accepting that, and when the pain comes, I know it’s all part of the process. I’d much rather live that way than go through life feeling numb with a closed heart. It’s the pain that allows me to appreciate the joy, and to make the most of those precious moments when they come.

Out of these women’s pain came, if not joy, then great caring and kindness and love. That wouldn’t have happened if they hadn’t been willing to stand up and share what they were going through. We wouldn’t have been able to reach out to them if they had stayed silent.

Therefore I honor them, and salute them for having the courage to speak up, and I feel blessed to have been a part of their comfort and healing. And now when I see them, I will remember that we are all going through something at any given moment in time, and will--as another woman suggested we all do when we see each other in the future--be happy to reach out in sisterhood with compassion and kindness.

Oh, and my word? It was peace.

Peace be with you, now and always.