Crammed too many books on my shelf

I've been blogging kinda of frequently in the last week. And yeah... it probably has to do with the fact that I haven't written a song for 9 days. Lyrics have been building up, and I've probably written a line or two a day, but music and melody are still on back order.

I've been reading a ton since I've been home. I'm on my 3rd book since walking through the doors of Williamsville.

I've been reading a number of biographies lately. I love books. Living with Trina in Greenville has only affirmed my obsession with reading and acquiring as much knowledge and wisdom as I can from the turning of hundreds of pages. I love knowing things. I love learning things. I love sharing things myself. And through that love of mine, I have such a respect for learning the things authors choose to share in their own books and stories.

Trina and I have bought so many books since the Fall. Our book shelves are completely full. I even wrote a line dedicated to our hilarious obsession in a song called My Side that I wrote in November. "Crammed too many books on my shelf." It is a negative line in light of the subject matter of the song, but it was meant to give a laugh to Trina. It did. So I was satisfied.

I believe I've said before, I learn so much more in sermons when pastors tell stories. Nothing encourages me more. Nothing grabs my attention more. I remember hearing stories that inspired me years and years ago. I still remember. They grab me, and hold on to me.

I remember hearing this woman, named Donna, speak at a YWAM thing while I was on a Missons trip in Louisiana. I was 15. I was absolutely under a spell every time she spoke. I heard every word. I don't think I missed one. I told her afterwards on one of the final days. She wasn't even a speaker for the week... she simply helped run things with her husband Mark. They were maybe middle age, or close to it. Her stories of God's faithfulness in her life just shook the very core of me. And I remember knowing God had revealed something to me through her. That someday I would be speaking. And someday people would be in the same seat I was in, as I was listening to her. But in stead of listening to Donna tell her stories, I'd be telling mine.

In some ways, that was hard to even type. I've always been terrified that I'd give people the wrong impression of me. That I'd give off an air that proclaims "I think I am all that."

In the past few years though, slowly I've shed that fear. Little by little. But it still grips me sometimes. Because I don't ever want to be that person. And being confidant... there is such a fine line between confidence and living a life full of pride.

But last month, I stepped on stage at Vespers. My Vespers team was about to lead worship. Once we finished, I walked towards the center of the stage. A mic tied behind my ear, my Bible and a bottle of water in my hands. And I spoke that night.

I've felt a stir in my heart. Nearly five years ago I had been inspired by Donna. I knew I'd be telling stories one day, and many days after that. I didn't know how or when it'd come. But I know today, as I'm now 20 years old, that promise is on the road to fruition. I don't know how, or when the next time will be. But I know that God had shown me a part of the future He has for me.

I told Donna what I had felt God speak to me that week in Louisiana. She listened to me intently, and though I was a skinny shrimp-like 15-year old, the look in her eye was so serious. Like what I was saying was as important as I felt her words were. It emboldened me. And she prayed over me, and that was that. I've never seen her since. But I've thought about her.

What I've realized is that reading other people's stories is so powerful. Reading this book, Choosing to See by Mary Beth Chapman (Go figure it's form Trina!:), has encouraged me so much. I feel like going out and buying every Christian biography there is. Because it lends so much perspective. When you read a book, you see the struggle, and then the outcome. The failing, and then the promise. The heartbreak, and then the healing. It's all only pages away. but in life, it could be years away. It's in slow motion, even though it seems like life just goes way too fast sometimes.

Read this book. I'm so serious... it's amazing. It's so encouraging. It's so real life. I love when people are real. I love when they're broken and honest enough to say it. Agh we're all idiots with broken hearts. But that was never a good enough reason to remain in the shadows of trees and leaves. We're all living stories of God's redeeming love and hope. Your story is important and speaks volumes. As the Body of Christ we all desperately need each other.

And no story is fully complete... Telling your story may be part of your story. Even if it feels incomplete. I suppose my blog is somewhat like telling my story. Even though it's in pieces.

But for real. Read that book.