Storyteller

My grandma is not the stereotypical grandma. No. She is different.  Upon deeper reflection, her ability to beat to the sound of her own drum probably greatly influenced my ability to do the same. Spending summers with her was magical. We did not play Uno or Go Fish during my childhood. We played Dominoes, and she taught me how to keep score and count bones. We traveled up and down the road at lightning speed. We explored unknown places just because. She listened to my thoughts. And she told the BEST stories at bedtime.

After a long day of activity, you know I could go to sleep at the drop of a hat, but I did my best to stay up to hear her bedtime stories. Her bedtime stories were next level. Who needed to hear about Cinderella or Peter Pan when my grandma could knit amazing tales about me and Bible Study Brother? She painted us in epic adventures that lasted all summer long. Of course, Bible Study Brother would ask questions and make special requests during this routine. His inquiries added their own special spice to our evening wind down. In her stories, I could be anything. In her stories, I could do anything.

How I wish I had the presence of mind at 10 years old to write some parts of the stories down. I think I believed that they would stay in my brain forever. And in some respects, they have. I cannot remember the specifics of the stories. But the thread that connected throughout each story was that we were brave, and adventurous, and we could handle whatever life threw our way.

I am so grateful for my grandma and her wonderful spirit. Her ability to encourage and motivate is really inspiring. (Now listen, she tells me the truth about myself…as only she can.) And on days that I feel like I am not enough, or not doing it right, I can pull on the stories that she sowed into my spirit years ago. I can be anything. I can do anything. I am brave. I am adventurous. And with the help of the Lord, I can handle whatever life throws my way. What stories are you telling? #wepreach