when your life tells a different story
As I recently wandered the streets of the small town in New England where I grew up, I noticed how much had changed and yet how much still looked the same. Nostalgia led me to some significant spots, which I’d never taken my husband to. We were both surprised when we realized that I’d never taken him to them. I don’t know whether life was just too full or I wasn’t ready to revisit them but whatever the reason, this trek down memory lane was healing. And one thing I realized as was how good the stories felt to share.
The walking bridge, a suspended bridge that hangs over the Androscoggin River still steals my breath away as it sways back and forth just as I remember it always did. I can’t believe I kept it away from my family. The way the water gathers from all directions and pours out over a large dam right beside the old mill is breathtaking.
This isn’t the only stop we made, I also took him to my elementary where I twirled day after day on the horizontal bars on the playground. My dad’s office sat only feet away. Then I pointed out where I fell in love with volunteering for kids with disabilities. It was one of my favorite places to be. The friendships birthed from that room were sacred and led me to later work in Early Education. I also drove Joe by where some of my friends lived, the path I took to and from school, where I played tennis and went trick or treating. It felt as if I was filling in the gaps of my story and I suppose that’s just what I did, not only for Joe but for me too.
There’s something that happens when we’re finally ready to tell more of our story. There’s a way it connects who we once were with who we’ve become.
You see, I used to see my past as pain.
I held tightly to the pieces that told the narrative of what I’d survived, but it left out the good parts, which also shaped who I am. And just like a piece of art without the entirety of it, it lacks shape and its story.
And although our trip was a bit different this time, it felt good. There’s something sacred in telling more of your story in a safe place. It was if I let Joe in a little more and the light brought greater healing.
I don’t know what your story is like, but if you can find a safe place to share it - do it, you’ll feel lighter and a little less afraid of what lays deep within. God’s good like this. The more we choose to mend the broken pieces of ourselves, the better the story becomes and the sweeter the memories too.
Here’s a few more photos from our trip:
This is my elementary school - how come everything seems so much smaller? LOL
Boothbay Harbor, Maine - fun fact: My parents lived here for many years.
Our grandson was with us and it was so fun to watch him explore the places our sons loved too! Another fun fact is he and his parents are heading to my hometown soon to start a church. A prayer that Joe and I have prayed for over 35 years! Maine is an unchurched territory so this is so exciting that a prayer we have asked God for he is answering through our own kids.
What about you?
Do you have something you’ve asked God for and didn’t expect him to answer it the way that he did?
Please share it with us! And if this blessed you - would you pass The Story on to a friend or family member who would also be encouraged.
Thanks for gathering with us.
Love & Blessings
- Ruthann xoxo