Yesterday’s post, “Fatso,” was the most-read post of my short history in blogging. Looking back over the few posts I’ve made that have gotten the most attention, I’ve notice they have been deeply personal stories. I’ve had exterior help, to be sure, namely the posts with high readership have all been shared by people with a great following (specifically social media’s distinguished gentleman, William Newton, of The Blog of the Courtier).
Personal stories seem to always appeal to the majority of people more than the abstract or theoretical. This blog has been an interesting endeavor in that I tend to prefer the latter to the former. Lately, however, I have begun to recognize the benefit that comes with sharing deeply personal stories. They help you process what has happened, and they let others know that there are people going through hard times. Sometimes, those stories are exactly what someone needed to hear, and it truly helps them.
I was blessed with the opportunity to do my undergrad at Indiana Wesleyan University, a school dedicated to a Christ-centered atmosphere and academic excellence. [“Indiana Wesleyan University is a Christ-centered academic community committed to changing the world by developing students in character, scholarship and leadership.” Yes, I still have it memorised.]
While at IWU, I had the great chance to be in the University Chorale, under the direction of Dr. Todd Guy, as well as other ministry teams, most notably One Voice, a twenty(ish)-voice ensemble that toured schools and churches many weekends of the year. With Chorale and One Voice, our concerts weren’t “performances.” We led and prompted in worship. The worship was “concert-style,” but we invited our “audience” to truly enter into the Presence with us.
In many points during our concerts, members of the groups would share a testimony, a story or experience in their own lives, in which God was working and teaching them more about Himself. After five years of listening to many of these deeply personal stories, I have learned so much about the nature of God.
Some stories are iconic (the Grandpa Peck story, the “Live the Dash” story, Simeon Purkey’s “army of angels” testimony, and Jessica (McGrady) Hiser’s Fanny Crosby testimony), some became infamous (“YAHWEH!”, the catsitting-to-save-up-to-buy-a-canopy-bed story, and “Down there!”), and some down-right hilarious (Graham Smith’s accounting of Nathan “Neener” Engle’s creation of a make-shift bow tie for a guy that had lost his out of a napkin, complete with “laying on of hands.”)
What made this the greatest, though, was the ability to grow together, to learn from each other, to see what God was doing in everyone’s life. We took things from each other’s lives and it helped us in our own. We shared. You are never more open and vulnerable and honest than when you are gathered in community, worshiping, and sharing your life’s story.
I was recalling some of these moments today and remembered a piece One Voice used to do called “New Jerusalem,” made popular by TaRanda Greene and the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir.
Our soloist for the piece was always the unbelievably talented (I do not give such praise lightly) Katie (Schenck) Smith. She always “set it up” with a truly moving testimony.
The song uses imagery that never ceases to move me. It speaks of our “home,” our “resting place.” And my favorite line: “just to see my Saviour’s face.” Seeing the face of Love is my only hope! I have many vivid memories of singing this song, and hearing Katie deliver a truly Spirit-filled performance.
Our lives are so enriched by sharing our hearts with the people close to us. Our deepest hearts aren’t to be shared with everyone, but for those with whom you may be led to share, I encourage you to do so. I know how immensely these stories and testimonies have impacted my life, and I thank every person in my Chorale family for sharing so many great moments with me.
This is a live performance of “New Jerusalem” by TaRanda Greene at Shadow Mountain Church in El Cajon, California. The Chorale sang at Shadow Mountain multiple times during my five-year run at IWU. [Forgive the two-second blip at the beginning.]
The Constant Convert 