Donald Miller's Blog, page 41

Three Simple Steps to Resolving Conflict

We all face conflict every once in awhile.

Is there a way to approach these conflicts so they can be negotiated peacefully?

Our office is in an alley behind this great little Mexican restaurant in Nashville. We’re right in the middle of a neighborhood, so there are always people on foot, walking to the coffeeshop and nearby restaurants. But apparently there have been neighborhood kids causing some trouble. The property managers sent a couple emails about it, but the messages never felt urgent or had a tone to communicate a lack of safety for our staff.

I’ve seen a few of the kids running around, playing tag and, well, being kids. Nothing of harm, from what I could tell.

The other day I was working in my office when I saw one of the property managers walk in our front door with two police officers. With this not being a typical occurrence, our entire team was a little caught off-guard.

We all stood up and gathered in a circle in the middle of the office.

The property manager (we’ll call her Janet) explained she wanted to introduce us to the local police officers and then spent a little time explaining the situation with the neighborhood kids. They asked us to call the police if we saw the kids loitering and suggested we always “buddy up” whenever walking to our cars.

After they said their little spiel, they walked out and across the hall to another office.

Our team tried to get back to work.

But we all sat at our computers, processing what had just happened.

Fortunately, we didn’t have any outside parties in the office that day. They did come at a good time to interrupt. But I started thinking how it would have made our guests feel if we were, in fact, having a meeting and two police officers walked in unannounced.

So I decided to write an email to Janet, thanking her for stopping by to inform us of the situation. But also, I asked her to let us know of future visits so we could be expecting a visitor—especially when that visitor was a police office.

I wrote the email in the kindest way I could while offering specific, corrective feedback. I wasn’t mad. I just wanted her to change her approach for next time.

Janet’s email response really frustrated me.

She said “my apologies” and then wrote two sentences defending her position. I didn’t find her apology sincere or apologetic at all.

You’re not really apologizing when you stand firm in your perspective.

Janet never once acknowledged my concern, she never aligned with my situation, and she never assured me of her plan to make it better the next time. I learned a process for conflict resolution while working for Apple, and it’s the exact opposite of Janet’s approach.

The 3 A’s of Conflict Negotiation go like this:

First, Acknowledge. Make them feel heard.

Actually listen to the things that are being said and repeat them back. “What I hear you saying is ______. Is that correct?”

Second, Align. Make them feel less alone.

How did the situation make the other person feel? Recognize that feeling and speak from their perspective.

Third, Assure. Let them know you have a plan.

With every conflict, there must be a resolution. Sometimes the resolution is immediate, sometimes the next step is acknowledging the situation won’t continue happening. Either way, have a plan and communicate that plan.

If Janet would have followed these 3 steps, it would have sounded something like this:

“I’m so sorry for walking into your office with the police officers, unannounced. I can see why that would have startled you and if I had been in your position, I would have felt the exact same way. Moving forward, know I’ll always give you advance notice if anything like this ever happens again.”

There’s no justification in that response. I would have felt heard and understood and appreciative.

If you’ve hurt someone, don’t try to be “right.” Just be sorry.

Conflict in life is unavoidable. We can choose to push our opinions on others or try to see situations from different perspectives. The next time you’re in a little tiff, give the 3 A’s a try. It’s helped me hundreds of times and I hope it’s helpful for you.

Three Simple Steps to Resolving Conflict is a post from: Storyline Blog

2 Things I Do That Increase My Creative Output

I believe creative work is a dance. I think you have to show up with regular discipline, but I think something else has to show up too. Creativity, despite what so many motivational writers say, can’t be forced.

When we create we dance with something mysterious, perhaps subconscious and perhaps spiritual, but regardless, we are only one person dancing in a two-entity concoction.

So, how do we control the other entity? How do we make the words or the images of the sermon or the music show up? We don’t.

But here are two tricks I’ve learned that greatly increase my chances of being in the same place at the same time with an idea that wants to dance.

First: I write where the wind is blowing.

What this means is when I sit down to write, I work on what wants to be written rather than what I’m supposed to be writing. Your subconscious doesn’t want to be controlled; it wants to play. And when you guide that play, you end up looking like a genius.

I may be halfway through chapter 5, but if I’m not feeling it, I don’t force it. But I write all the same.

I sit and think about what I want to write, and often it’s another chapter. I start chapter 17, the one about my friend’s new car … or whatever. And that usually flows. I know sooner or later I’ll come back to chapter 5 and the book will fall into place.

So if you’re a pastor, maybe you’ll sit down to work on your sermon and end up writing your weekly newsletter article. The sermon may strike you after lunch or something, but the newsletter article is where the wind is blowing.

I promise, go with the wind.

The work will be inspired.

You may say, “Wait, I have to get my sermon done,” and that really stinks. If you force it, it’ll likely be a boring sermon but that’s true, you have to get it done. Still, your subconscious has this strange way of knowing what really needs to get done and what can wait or even be skipped. If you never really want to write your sermon, you might consider a career change. No kidding. Your creative side is guiding you somewhere. Go with it.

Regardless, what you find when you write where the wind is blowing is you tend to do your best work because the words are organic and real and inspired.

Second: I write in the morning.

Creativity plays best, for most of us, in the morning. The longer I wait in the day, the less of a chance the words will be their best.

I don’t always make it happen. But when my writing session starts getting later and later in the day, my days get more stressful. I can’t feel good about the day until I’ve written. So why not write first thing? It only makes sense.

Also, scientists have now proven our mental capacity decreases as the day goes on. Get your creative work done in the morning and you’ll have much more success and not have to feel guilty for hours and hours while you’re putting off your important work.

Those two tips alone get me thousands of stress-free words each week. They’re two of the best tips I know.

2 Things I Do That Increase My Creative Output is a post from: Storyline Blog

When Someone Else Gets the Thing You Wanted

Our past two family Christmases have ended in tears. Not mine, but my nephew Titus’. At three years old he has only experienced two Christmases and so far each one has been slightly traumatic. His grandma, my amazing mother-in-law, gives each of the grandkids a box of goodies picked out just for them. Each year we open gifts starting with the youngest first, which means Titus is the first to dig into his box. This is where the drama/trauma starts.

As his older siblings take their turn opening their Christmas boxes, Titus abandons his box and starts digging into theirs. This results in some sibling infighting and subsequent parental exit strategy for Titus. He must leave the room while the other kids open their gifts. The whole concept of “it’s not all mine” doesn’t sit well with him.

I learn about myself from watching Titus. When he melts into a crying puddle over not being able to play with his siblings’ new toys, I understand. Like Titus, I don’t respond well when it’s not my turn. I don’t always see the logic or the spiritual maturity in smiling while others receive things I desperately want to have. The only difference between Titus and me is I am older than he is and God as my ultimate parent will no longer allow me an exit strategy.

It is difficult when we long for a job promotion and must smile and eat cake to celebrate our co-worker receiving said promotion. It is frustrating when we must don bridesmaid or groomsman attire to a wedding we attended without a date.

Photo Credit: Mikaela Hamilton

It is a challenge to rejoice when other people’s prayers get answered and we are left to accept life’s question marks. It is always hard to accept that sometimes it is just not our turn.

Sometimes it is someone else’s turn to get hired, hitched, and promoted. We don’t get to see the struggle, storms, tears, sacrifices it took them to get to where they are. We only see the joy, the happily ever after, the pretty Instagram pics and inspirational Twitter quotes. We don’t know the whole story.

The irony of life is that in our adulthood we are still learning the lessons our parents tried to reinforce to us when we were three years old. Wait. Ask. Share. Be still. Play. Rest.

When it’s not your turn, practice contentment. Have gratitude for what you have and be present where you are. Celebrate the success of others and know that their success doesn’t mean you are an automatic failure.

We can all learn to appreciate the gifts we’ve been given and be thankful, whether it’s our turn or not.

When Someone Else Gets the Thing You Wanted is a post from: Storyline Blog

How to Use Fear of Failure to Your Advantage

For my three-year old daughters, life is a series of endless discovery.

Snow. Tricycles. Gymnastics. New Foods. Park Slides. French lessons with Kari. At each new discovery, they are faced with decision. Do I try this tall slide? Or do I skip it? Or do I just watch for a bit? Sometimes all it takes is reassurance – in the form of me standing at the bottom of the slide to “catch” them. But sometimes they let fear or uncertainty keep them off the slide altogether.

I think we do the same thing.

No one wants to look foolish.

No one likes rejection and failure. No one wants to fall off the slide. So we stay far away from it, in the feigned safety of our living room. We avoid the slide altogether. Stephen Pressfield adds, “Being paralyzed with fear is a good sign. Like self-doubt, fear is an indicator. The more scared we are of a calling, the more we know we have to do it.”

When we avoid fear, we miss life. Our fear is deeper than we have imagined. Sometimes we live every day overwhelmed. Sometimes we miss years of opportunity. But what we don’t understand, deep in our souls:

Sometimes we want to fail.

It’s our preemptive strike on fear.

If we never try to get to the finish line — we never have to face it. If we never show our writing to the publisher, our new idea to our peers, our dream to the public, we never have to face their rejection. If we never propose to her, we never know her answer. We never have to face our deep fear.

To relieve ourselves of the fear, we pre-fail.

Failure is inevitable, so we choose it before it happens. We fail to put an end to our fear of failure. If we throw in the towel before we fail, we don’t have to live under fear anymore.

So we fail by sabotaging ourselves.

Or we fail with our passivity and inaction. We never step into the ring. We never roar.

When we pre-fail, we never give ourselves a chance. And one day, years from now, we become an old person who fills out the Facebook survey for “Biggest Regrets of the Dying.” Thomas Merton writes,

If you want to identify me, ask me not where I live, or what I like to eat, or how I comb my hair, but ask me what I am living for, in detail, ask me what I think is keeping me from living fully for the thing I want to live for.

What are you living for? What do you want to live for? What is keeping you from living for that? How do you need to face your fear – right now?

How to Use Fear of Failure to Your Advantage is a post from: Storyline Blog

When Difficulty Feels Discouraging, Remember This

Recently I started reading the New Testament again. My friend Ron Frost recommends reading the Bible all the way through, then reading it again, and then again, until you die. So I am taking his advice. And I’m enjoying it. I didn’t start in Genesis this time; I started in Matthew, and so I read the account of the Birth of Christ.

Each time I read the Bible I’m taken aback by how much we dilute the power of its stories with sentimentalism. The story of Noah and his ark has been reduced to a children’s story (a God-orchestrated massacre of all humanity) and the story of the Birth of Christ into a regal pageant complete with gifts and robed choirs of angels (A poor virgin and her new husband delivering a baby in a manger of a stable. Followed by an angry king slaughtering all children under two years old to try to kill off the Messiah.)

What I like about the Bible is it doesn’t clean up history.

It isn’t a clean book.

God does not always look good (from our finite perspective) in it, and yet it doesn’t hide or sell or bait and switch; it just tells the truth.

One of the problems with sentimentalizing the text is that we begin to sentimentalize our actual lives. We begin to think the Christian life should be free of hardship. We think God is going to navigate us around the hard things. But there is really nothing in Scripture that should lead us to believe this. What God offers, instead, is to be with us, to not abandon us, even in the midst of our hardship.

Lying in bed this morning I was thinking about a difficult thing I have to do. It’s nothing compared to some of the stuff you might be dealing with, just a big job I have to complete.

Then I remembered Philippians 4.

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” I’ve said that verse to myself a thousand times, I am sure. But lying there, I realized something the verse didn’t say. It didn’t say “I can do all things through Christ who makes it easy.”

This paradigm shift is important because if we think God is going to take away our troubles, we assume there is something wrong with us if He doesn’t. We assume we did something bad, or that God doesn’t like us, or perhaps even God Himself isn’t good.

To be sure, some of the hardships in our lives happen because we made bad decisions, but even in this we are given the grace of a God who is willing to discipline us in love and restore us. A careful understanding of Biblical stories reveals every hero goes through difficult trouble.

Nobody is spared.

In an age where we are taught through commercialism there should be no struggles in life that the purchasing of a product won’t relieve, the Bible is incompatible. But the age of commercialism has let us down. Many have found their stuff has made life more meaningless. What we’ve forgotten is that every great story has to involve a difficult ambition, and must then travel through the land of conflict. The best stories have their protagonist wondering if they are going to make it. What Scripture teaches us, then, is that God will be with us in that place, and will give us the strength to endure a hard thing.

Here’s to gaining the courage to face conflict, the bonding benefit of hardships, and to living better stories.

When Difficulty Feels Discouraging, Remember This is a post from: Storyline Blog

Why You Shouldn’t Place Your Identity in Your Ideas

The great entitlement of the 21st century is the assumption that we can and must share our opinion with the general public. Thomas Jefferson, who was famous for reinventing himself to advance his ambitions, would be put to shame today by anyone with a Facebook page or blog. Public relations work is a full-time job for many of us, and we have only one client: ourselves.

Our “work” is facilitated by the proliferation of ways we can share our feelings, our accomplishments, our tastes, and our grievances. We have blogs for our thoughts, Facebook for our screeds, twitter for our “hot takes.”

Self-representation is just part of our lives.

But what does it do to our spirit?

Never in human history has the average person had such easy access to sharing her thoughts with the general public. Such a drastic shift in how we interact with each other and the world has to affect us in ways we have not fully come to terms with yet.

What is apparent to me, because I’ve battled with it myself, is that this easy assumption that we must share our thoughts and “shape our brand” can lead to an overvaluing of our opinions. When we spend so much time representing ourselves, we can’t help but place some of our identity in what we think and how we are perceived.

I do not think this is sustainable.

Economists talk about how the modern American economy has basically been a boom-and-bust economy. We overinvest in a sector, and make our economy dependent on it, so that when that sector crashes not only is that investment lost, but also the entire economy suffers. In the 1990s we had the tech bubble; in the 2000s it was the housing bubble.

In economics, and in life, there really can be too much of a good thing.

I believe that an “identity bubble” is forming in this decade. We pour so much of our aspirations into our own creativity and reputation when we should know better: Like any other bubble, the identity bubble will burst. We are not our best hope.

How do we stop the boom-and-bust cycle?

The fortunate thing is that we are not passive players in this story.

Spiritual disciplines offer us tools. This 21st-century problem can be fought with old practices: prayer, fasting, Sabbath, silence, and solitude. All of these disciplines condition us to rely on God’s power and who He is, rather than our own power and the false identities we put on to impress others or feed our ego.

There is another counter-cultural step we can take today: a 21st century spiritual discipline. I call it the spiritual discipline of representing another.

You see, I used to work in government.

My job was to represent a politician’s view—not my own. I could not write or speak in public about my own views, because my job was in service of another.

Politics is not the only job where this is the case: really anyone who is not self-employed has an obligation that supersedes our own personal opinion on every matter—even if we ignore that obligation.

What would it look like for you to lend your voice to represent someone other than yourself?

Perhaps it means siding with your spouse in a discussion even if you might not see an issue precisely their way. Or it could lead you to take a position on an issue that benefits the oppressed or unheard, even if that position might have a negative consequence for yourself.

Perhaps…

If we can allow ourselves to represent someone else’s opinion, we will begin to realize that our value is not based in how many people agree with us, or how many “likes” our Facebook posts get.

There is more to life than simply being right. There is certainly more to following Jesus than simply holding the right opinion.

So much of our culture tells us exactly the opposite, which is why we need to actively cultivate right thinking through thoughtful, constructive action. Through prayer, fasting, solitude, silence, Sabbath and, perhaps, representing another, we can counter the lie that our ideas are what matter most about us; we can find comfort in a God whose love and compassion are beyond our understanding.

Why You Shouldn’t Place Your Identity in Your Ideas is a post from: Storyline Blog

One Truth Every Leader Should Know About Power

The waiting room was packed and the line was long. I had just turned ten years old and my dad had recently been promoted. Turning ten on a military base was a rite of passage because you could get an official military ID card that was needed to move freely around the base, see movies, and buy things.

While I was counting the people in front of us in the long line, my dad checked his watch. He had just gotten off work and was still wearing his blue Air Force uniform and shiny black shoes. We were both a bit discouraged about spending an hour waiting in line, but I was at least filled with the excitement of getting my first ID card.

It didn’t take long for a man to approach my dad.

My dad’s officer insignia boldly sat upon his shoulders. The man invited my dad and me to come to the front of the line. I smiled with relief and thought that this was just the good fortune we needed. My dad quietly told him no and said we were able to wait. From my four-foot tall perspective this was a terrible decision.

I noticed that the frustrated people in front of us all seemed to hold their breath a bit as my dad spoke and then exhaled in relief when he rejected the offer to cut in front of them. I never asked my dad why he didn’t move to the front of the line. I could tell he didn’t want me to draw any attention to his decision.

We eventually advanced in line.

Then we presented the proper forms and left with my freshly laminated photo ID warm in my hands.

Years later, I was watching the World War II mini-series “Band of Brothers” and remembered the ID line. A character, Lt. Winters, saw another officer shooting craps with a group of enlisted men as they waited for a battle in Europe. Winters rebuked the officer by asking, “What if you’d won?” The officer defended himself by saying they were just gambling and having fun. Winters admonished him saying, “Never put yourself in a position where you can take from these men.”

The lesson is clear.

Power, authority, and rank should only be used to serve and never to take.

In big things like war or small things like waiting in line, the principle remains the same: Leaders who use their position, title, and status to take advantage of others will lose the respect of their followers.

Jesus was a wonderful example of this standard. Whether he was washing the disciples’ feet, spending time with powerless children, or caring for outcast foreigners, he used his authority to serve rather than to take.

Many leaders abuse their authority.

It is easy for us to conjure up a list of politicians and disgraced leaders who have failed this test. A cottage industry has developed on cable TV to ridicule and mock our hypocritical or unethical leaders.

It is much harder for us to honestly look at the ways we use power and status in our own daily lives. All of us are in some sort of position of authority in our homes, offices, houses of worship, or social groups. When we encounter others, we can influence and serve, or exploit and use.

The reality is that positions of leadership and power rarely last long term. We hold them for a season and then they are passed onto others. They are positions of trust and should be approached and handled with integrity. I am thankful for my father’s quiet example. I aspire to be more like him. Given power’s clear purpose, we should consider: how can we take less and serve more?

One Truth Every Leader Should Know About Power is a post from: Storyline Blog

4 Words That Changed My Career

If you hadn’t noticed, it’d been about 5 years since I’d released a new book before releasing Scary Close. During that time, it’d been a tough going. I’d started and nearly completed two books, but to be honest, they didn’t shine. I didn’t want to release them because, well, they weren’t good enough.

I wouldn’t say I struggled with writers block because I kept to my discipline and wrote thousands upon thousands of words. They just weren’t great.

Still, I found myself getting worried.

I loved to write and wanted to continue writing, but I was stuck. I couldn’t tap into that old flow I used to feel.

But gratefully God intervened.

I have a psychologist friend who, after hearing me speak at a conference, pulled me aside. At the conference, I talked about how I’d written 1/4 of a novel and thrown it away because it wasn’t good enough.

He said, “Don, I think I know your problem. You’re being too careful. When you first started as a writer, readers loved your work because you said what you felt; you took huge risks. Now, you’re always so careful. We miss the Don who wasn’t careful.”

Those words nailed me.

He was right. I was being too careful. All the criticism and praise and attention had seeped into my brain and I started writing to stay alive, not to express what I felt and believed. I suddenly had something to lose and when you have something to lose, you start being careful.

The sad thing is when we’re careful, we are actually being affected by fear. People are careful when there is a risk. But nobody respects somebody who is too careful. People love writers who give us permission to be ourselves and to express our feelings. Sure, they may fail every once in awhile, but we admire their freedom all the same.

So, how are you being too careful?

Are you too careful in your sermons? Does one elder control you like a puppet on a string? Are you too careful in your songwriting? Are you afraid to be called a fool? Are you too careful in your pursuit of a woman? Maybe she needs you to take a risk.

You know what? If you’re too careful, there’s a good chance you won’t leave a mark on the world.

Now there’s something to fear.

4 Words That Changed My Career is a post from: Storyline Blog

Are You Giving Without Expectations?

One of my favorite bands growing up was called Buffalo Springfield. If you’re too young to know this band, you’d at least remember a song that gets played under many circumstances today, called “For What It’s Worth.” The signature line in the chorus is “Stop, hey, what’s that sound, everybody look what’s going down.”

It was sort of a protest anthem in the late 1960s and 70s, and it has appeared in countless movie soundtracks since then (most notably that classic scene in Tropic Thunder, or you may remember it in Forrest Gump).

It has stood the test of time.

I was with one of the members of Buffalo Springfield on a humanitarian trip to help install water filtration systems in slum areas of the Dominican Republic a few years ago. Richie Furay was one of the founding members of the band, along with Neil Young, Stephen Stills, Dewey Martin, and Bruce Palmer.

Richie had gone on to be in other bands like Poco, and the Souther/Hillman/Furay band. He became a believer in his rock and roll days, and now is the pastor of Calvary Chapel church in Boulder, Colorado. He also leads the worship band there. Do I need to even tell you how great that band is?

In one of the communities we visited, a basketball game broke out.

Richie had to sit on the sidelines, though.

He was in some pain because he needed a hip replacement.

All that jumping around in clubs and arenas on stage for a few decades takes its toll. So I’m told. And the bouncing roads in the van all day hadn’t helped.

But while he sat on a bench, a little Dominican boy—I’d guess he was 10—came to him and opened up a bag of marbles in his small hand. He looked expectantly at Richie, as if to say, “Wanna play?” and he got on the ground. They didn’t speak each other’s language, but Richie couldn’t turn down that offer. So he struggled to ease himself off of the bench and onto the ground.

They had a marvelous game of marbles.

Finally, though, Richie’s hip stiffened from the hard surface. It bothered him so much that he had to stop. He struggled to get to his feet and back on the bench. He thanked the boy, and the boy returned to his friends.

A few minutes later, though, the boy came back over to Richie and held out the bag again, with the same expectant face. Richie rubbed the top of the boy’s head and said in English, “No, I can’t play any more. Thank you!”

The boy seemed very sad at this and went back to his buddies who were standing nearby. It appeared to Richie that they were making fun of the boy after getting rejected by the American.

Richie called our translator over.

He said, “Please tell that little guy that my hip hurts too much to play any more. Tell him thank you for the game. I had lots of fun. But that’s all I can do.”

The translator went over to the boy and talked to him. He came back shaking his head. “Richie, that boy didn’t want to play some more. He wanted to give you his marbles.”

In places where you least expect it, there’s something happening here. What it is ain’t exactly clear.

Have you ever had a gift change your perspective? Do you make it a habit to give, even when you don’t get anything in return?

Are You Giving Without Expectations? is a post from: Storyline Blog

The Significance of How You Tell Your Story

It was our eldest son’s 21st birthday, and our family had gathered for a celebration. Before dinner, we were sitting in the living room when Hunter pulled up his sleeve, proudly displaying a motorcycle tattoo on his forearm, a gift from his roommate (who I plan to give a pony!)

In a not-so-great moment of fatherhood, I blurted out, “Please tell me that is a henna tattoo.” It was not.

My displeasure was not well concealed.

But I attempted to be positive. “That certainly is a tattoo,” I tried. Nita, his mother who birthed him with clean, beautiful arms, didn’t do much better.

He explained, “I got it to remind me of my year in Uganda, riding to the school everyday on my motorcycle.”

And I thought, There are a lot of other things in Uganda you could get tattooed on your arm – an itsy, bitsy Ugandan flag, an image of a miniature Ugandan hummingbird, or a tiny letter “u ” for instance.

I’ll admit it.

I’m old school and don’t get the tattoo thing.

Photo Credit: Mikaela Hamilton

I know it’s quite popular. But all I can do is fast forward to old people with sagging skin, a once vibrant motorcycle now looking like it was hit by a semi, its tires having melted in the ensuing fireball!

Fast forward to a month later when our family went to a movie during the holidays. When we returned home, Hunter went upstairs while we began to make dinner.

Soon afterwards, he called for me.

I went up to his room where he sat on the floor, looking down, tears streaming down his face.

“I can’t take it.”

“What do you mean son?”

“I spent a year in Uganda with kids in a school who had very little, but they were thankful and happy. And the Ugandan people were grateful, satisfied with what they had, not entitled to what they lacked. While they had few possessions and experienced hardships, they lived with gratitude.”

He continued to explain.

“And then a couple of hours ago, I was standing in line with people who were complaining that the line was too long and the popcorn was too expensive! It’s crazy! Dad, it’s been so hard to be back here. I miss Uganda.”

We talked for a long while – about what he’d experienced, what he’d seen, and what he now knows. And about the ache that comes with transitions.

Later that night, I thought about the motorcycle on his arm, and how he looks at it every day. It reminds him of one of the most pivotal years of his life, of hopeful children, of dusty roads and the farm he planted, of grandmothers in villages and friends who worked alongside him.

It finally hit me.

The tattoo was his journal, a story etched on his arm. And when Hunter sees it, he remembers those days when he was changed, and when love was rich and deep.

I get it now.

People tell their story in different ways, but rarely with words.

Sometimes it’s how they carry themselves or the way they wear their hair. And sometimes it’s the scar on their wrist or a frown or a smile on their face.

The evidence is there.

It’s up to you and me to be attentive to the story they wear, and to invite them to tell it. It means being willing to watch for a story to emerge from unexpected places.

As for me, I probably won’t be getting a tattoo anytime soon. I’m too close to that age when tattoos get distorted and droopy. But I’m going to spring for Hunter’s next one. I want him to keep telling stories the way he wants to.

Of course, if he chose to use a leather-bound book and a nice pen instead, I would not object.

The Significance of How You Tell Your Story is a post from: Storyline Blog