The Stories We Tell
Table Talk
Setting the Table
You are welcome here. Come just as you are, bringing whatever is on your heart today. Take a few moments and allow yourself to just be. Take a couple deep breaths, grab yourself a cup of coffee, light a candle, do something that brings you comfort. Allow yourself to be present in this moment.
What if the stories we tell are not only meant to be remembered, but also to be heard again—with new ears?
We are surrounded by stories.
― Alice McDermott
Stories can conquer fear, you know. They can make the heart bigger.
― Ben Okri
Psalm 78:3-4
What we have heard and known, what our ancestors have told us, we will not hide from their descendants; we will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the Lord, his power, and the wonders he has done.
Food For Thought
“There’s more than one way to tell a story.”
Some stories exist to remind us who we are and where we come from—like family stories that get passed down from generation to generation.
One of the first stories I knew as a child was how my Grandma Bunce and my Granddaddy first started dating. Our family told this story every Christmas Eve, right alongside the story of the nativity. My grandparents would sit together and retell it, each disagreeing slightly about the details but always arriving at the same conclusion.
They both grew up on farms and neither family had much money. After their first date to the movies, my grandmother hinted that her birthday was coming up. Determined to impress her, my granddad enlisted his older sister to help him buy a gift.
When the birthday arrived, he went to his sister’s house to collect the present. She looked startled, disappeared into the house, and emerged carrying a beautiful red box wrapped with a gold bow.
Proudly, my granddad presented it to my grandmother. But as she unwrapped the box, both their expressions faded when they discovered a box of chocolates that read, “Merry Christmas!” His sister had forgotten all about the birthday and, in a panic, wrapped up a leftover Christmas present.
Every Christmas Eve, our family laughed at that story all over again. Perhaps because we knew just how close it came to us not being here at all.
But also because the story reminded us of where we came from. It reminded us of my grandparents’ resourcefulness, their humor, their affection for one another, and the life they built together.
Families tell stories about grandparents and childhood homes. Communities tell stories about their beginnings and their struggles. Through these stories, we learn not only what happened, but what matters. Stories connect us to those who came before us.
They give us roots and remind us that we are part of something larger than ourselves.
Stories can give us a window into a world we might otherwise never know. They allow us to see through another person’s eyes—to feel another person’s fears and hopes, to understand a life we have never lived.
I was not much of a theatre kid growing up—but my sisters were, so I spent many nights at rehearsals and sitting in the audience. Even then, I was fascinated by the power of a story to move us.
Through words, music, movement, and imagination, another person’s story can become our story. Stories can bring us to tears, offer another side of history, inspire us toward something greater, and reveal deeper truths about life. At their best, they hold up a mirror to our reality, bring to light the places where something is broken or unjust, and stir within us the courage to imagine that things might be different.
Our faith is filled with stories like these.
Stories that remind us who we are, where we have been, and who God is. Stories about creation and exile, courage and fear, outsiders and insiders, doubters and dreamers. Stories of people who encounter God in dreams, in storms, in silence, in the face of a stranger, and in the life of Jesus.
We tell these stories—our stories, our community stories, our faith stories—not simply because they are old or familiar, but because stories shape the way we see the world.
We tell them because they remind us of who we are and whose we are. And we tell them because sometimes, when we hear a story again, we hear something we could not hear the first time.
There is more than one way to tell a story. And perhaps there is more than one way to hear one. So may we be people who keep listening.
Listening to the stories of our faith.
Listening to the stories of people whose lives are different from our own.
Listening for the voices that have been silenced for too long.
Listening for the places where a familiar story might contain more truth than we have yet been willing to see.
Listening, always, for the voice of God—
who has been telling a story of love and belonging since long before we arrived, and who is telling it still.
Next time you’re with friends, tell a story together one word at a time. Go in a circle, the first person offering one word, then the next person another word, and so on. “Once”, “upon”, “a”, “time” is an easy way to start. You never know what hilarious twists and turns your collective imagination can take you on!
Ask someone in your family to retell a favorite family story. Listen for details you hadn’t picked up on before. Ask questions you hadn’t thought to ask before.
For a printable version of today's reflection Click Here!
Blessing
Loving God,
Help us listen to the stories being told around us,
give us the empathy to see ourselves in another’s story,
and help us to keep you at the center of our own.
Amen.
A little Table Talk for your table...
What is a story from your family, childhood, or community that has been told over and over again? Why do you think that story has endured?
Can you remember a time when hearing someone’s story changed you or the way you thought about something?
What is one story you want to listen to more carefully—your own, someone else’s, or a story from our faith—and what might you hope to hear?
Try taking it to the Kids Table...
Take time with your kiddos to tell some of your favorite family stories. Why does your family love these stories?
Talk with your kiddos about the gift of hearing other stories. Think together about the ways that we can learn from listening to someone's story.
Consider together what makes someone a really good listener. How can you try to be a good listener for others?
Meet This WEek’s Writer...
Lin Story-Bunce is a North Carolina native and lovingly calls Greensboro, NC home. She earned a Masters of Divinity from Wake Forest University and has served a wonderful and thoughtful congregation at College Park Baptist Church since 2009, pastoring to families and their faith development. Most of all, Lin loves the moments she gets to connect with her family, snowboarding with her wife, and keeping up with their four kiddos and two energetic pups. Lin is a teacher, preacher, dreamer, and procrastinator who has a knack for trying to do way too many things in far too little time.
To hear more from Lin throughout the week, follow along on our Instagram!