Are you struggling to talk to people? Are you afraid people won’t join your team or your friends will turn the blinds every time they see you coming? Those things could happen, but it won’t be because of you. No, it’ll be because of their fears, ideas about what you do, misunderstandings of the industry, lack of initiative and many times it’s just not for them. But don’t take it personal. So many times we get our feelings hurt, crawl into our pouting hole and write down all the reasons no one likes us and we shouldn’t be alive. (Maybe that last one is a little far but you get what I’m saying.)
No, make no mistake about it, your friends need what you are offering. Mirrors and bank accounts every would agree. But let me offer you a story to relay this point.
I was a youth pastor and it’s not secret that you have to have a sick, twisted mind to be a youth pastor. Well one disturbing night at youth service I decided to utilize the gifting of my then 1 year old Savannah. That day she’d created an incredible diaper full of things I don’t remember feeding her or ever seeing in my life. The smell created a stench in my office that to this day the city sewage department has yet to recover. Many of the books had to be burned. It was a thing of beauty.
Well like any good dad and deranged youth pastor, I saved it. I was teaching on the gospel and how our lives must reflect the message. 8 long, hot, steamy Summer hours later the kids began to arrive and I must say there was sinister feeling inside of me. This was going to be epic.
I had bought a very nutritious 4 piece meal from KFC right before they arrived because what kid isn’t hungry right after school? And who doesn’t love KFC? I brought it out and asked for a volunteer to eat it while I preached. You’d a thought I was Billy Graham so many hands went up. I picked a girl because well, it’s a scientific fact they have weaker stomachs and I figured she would hurl everywhere making this message even more powerful. We prayed over the food and not a single kid could focus on me. They wanted to trade places with her so bad. One boy offered her his bicycle. I told Essau to slow his roll because he may change his mind later.
Right as she began to take her first bite, I said hang on. I reached under the stage and pulled out what had now become an real life nuclear war head. I took the chicken, potatoes and biscuit from the plate opened up the diaper and-mixed them. Together. I mean you couldn’t tell if that was chicken or corn. Gravy or well, gravy. The moment my precious young teen smelt and saw what I did she immediately began to projectile heave. Nothing came out but you know and I know that sight alone can cause vommit pandemonium. Kids began to scatter and I began to laugh. It was one of the best moments of my pastoral life.
You may be saying, “what does that have to do with anything??” Or “What happened to the kids??” Or “Did that girl live??” All valid questions. But my point is in the first.
That chicken looked real good, smelt good and would’ve tasted good. It was appealing to her and everyone in the room. No one would’ve turned it down as it sat. But the moment I took what was good and placed it in a dirty diaper, it all of a sudden lost its appeal. Not only its appeal, but it became a repellant. No one wanted anything to do with it.
The same can be said about your story. You overcame great trials, great adversity, went through dangerous storms and came out unharmed. People need to hear it! But how it’s being presented can be the very thing that’s keeping them from hearing you.
I’m not saying you need to be perfect or blameless or without failures in order to present your story. I’m saying that the way you tell your story: the emotions, the purity of heart, they seamless flow, the mastery of every moment is the plate and your story is the chicken.
Master your story. Get it down. Because there are thousands of people all across the country who need to hear how you overcame so they can do the same.