Stories

There is a woman in my church who is fighting breast cancer. I have known Elsa and her sweet family for over two years now. Recently, Elsa requested that I help her write her story. When she explained her desire to write children's stories that would be used as resources to teach the complexities of cancer to children with parents struggling with cancer, my skin was covered in goosebumps and my soul pressed on me in a definitive, "YES, I will help!" Here is a godly woman with a husband and two small children, staring death in the face every time she goes to the doctor, and she is asking me to glimpse a part of her life, share in it, help tell her story.

Is there a more humbling experience than to be asked to join someone in telling their story? Our stories are unique. No one has the same memories or experiences. Even two people sharing the same experience will process the event differently, feel differently because our history and personality colors the way we view life. We are careful with our stories. Most people do not share every deep thought and every memory upon meeting a person for the first time. We make friends with people who can be trusted with our stories, who can identify with our experiences, not scorn. We marry those with whom we want to live our stories.

This request is humbling. I am in no way an expert on the publishing world and yet, she is asking me to help her navigate through it. I can't identify with her struggles, for not only have I never had a husband or children, but I have never had to walk through something as horrifying and deathly as cancer. I feel inadequate, but she is thankful for the help. It is humbling to be trusted with her story.