Why You Should Tell Your Story

One of the things I enjoyed about our road trip through Alaska and Canada was meeting a variety of people.

In Skagway, we struck up a conversation with a Native Alaskan in his 70s who had volunteered with Red Cross for 30+ years and had been assigned to several disasters all over the Pacific Northwest. When he learned we were from Oregon, he told us he had worked a couple of wildfires there. We thanked him.

We met Dave in the air museum in Fairbanks’ Pioneer Park. He came to Alaska to visit a friend after getting out of the service in ‘72, and never left. Dave has completed several rescues, including a crew off a barge that struck ice. “There were five of us crammed into the plane like sardines—quite a bit of weight,” Dave remembered. “I was sweating it, hoping we’d get up in the air.”

Dave in the Fairbanks Pioneer Park Air Museum

Nathan was our young kayak tour guide out of Whittier. Born in Israel to American parents, Nathan has spent several years teaching and leading rafting and kayaking white-water adventures around the world. He had us beach near a creek where salmon were swimming upstream. After marveling at the multitude of fish, we hiked a short trail that took us above a waterfall to look down on dozens of salmon trying to breach the falls. Nathan’s delight was in seeing our delight at this natural phenomenon.

In British Columbia, we met Laura, Sarah, Nick, and Mat—young biologists working for Canada Parks. They were just coming off a week-long field assignment that involved monitoring caribou using wildlife motion-detection cameras placed remotely. “We wanted to work in undisturbed places,” Laura spoke for the crew. “If you enjoy studying and working in natural settings and around wildlife, then chances are the people on your team also enjoy it … and those are your people.”

Left to right: Nick, Laura, Sarah, and Mat

In Jasper National Park, BC, we took a tram up a tall mountain, and then hiked onward from there. Just before reaching the summit, a handful of teenagers half-jogged-and-half-walked past us. They were part of the Alberta 14-16 ski team in training. They had run the distance in elevation that we had traveled on the tram, and then continued working their way to the top of the mountain. Talk about athletic discipline.

Alberta ski team—ages 14-16

As we headed south toward home, we took a sunset cruise on Idaho’s Payette Lake and struck up a conversation with Robert, a retired chef (although I suspect a chef never retires). He trained in Portland, worked at Portland’s Hilton, and then the Waldorf Astoria in New York. Of all the locations where he’s cooked, his favorite places were Spain, Germany, and the Caribbean. “When you travel to another country to cook, you don’t try to change them,” Robert said. “You learn their culture and their foods.”

Our road trip was enhanced by all these people. I loved hearing their stories. I loved asking questions, and then—the more we learned—asking follow-up questions. (Dan says I ‘interrogate’ people, but you can’t always believe everything Dan says.)

Something that Matthew West, singer and songwriter, said during an interview stuck with me:

“We’ve all got just one shot in this world, one life to live, one story to tell.”

It’s important to tell our stories. Because even though they oftentimes contain sorrows and mistakes and deep disappointments, they’re also overflowing with grace and redemption and new purpose.

Billy Graham weighed in on the importance of our stories:

“The unbelieving world should see our testimony lived out daily because it just may point them to the Savior.”

And then the Apostle John wraps it up nicely:

“This is the testimony: God has given us eternal life, and this life is found in his Son.” – 1 John 5:11

Tell your story … because it has the capacity to bring honor to God, and to instill life and hope and courage in others.