My Time with The Story...

A few months ago, a couple of amazing friends of mine came across a conference in Chicago and forwarded it and the information my way.  It looked great-- a conference for artists, creative leaders, and writers.  All with the purpose of learning and inspiring to tell our stories (and the stories of others) well and with a creative prowess to reach and touch.

I looked at the information and thought to myself, "Looks good to me."

Then, I received a blessing far above and beyond anything I could ever ask for.  My friends who sent the information to me, decided to pay for my enrollment to the conference.  I've not felt so loved in a long time.  

So, I went.  All I had to do was get there and find a place to stay.  I booked a flight and reserved a hotel.  I was ready to go and hoped something would come of it; something would help to break the cycle of down and out luck I seem to be shrouded by.

Something happened.  

I tried to get my name out there and meet people, but It came to be another difficulty in my path.  It seemed that most everyone there had come with their own groups and staff so they naturally kept to themselves with their discussions and feedback commentaries.  So, I was alone.  That's not what happened.

What happened was I took in every word.  Every speaker brought a little piece of a bigger whole of some things I had been missing-- Inspiration and Hope.  Normally, I haven't had (and don't have) any problem with either of those things.  I've grown up with a dream so strong, I will never turn away from it, even if it never comes into truth.  But, over the past couple of years, I've been knocked down time and time again and no one can keep their chin up forever; everyone has a breaking point.  Now, I wasn't emotionally destitute in any way, but I was frustrated and worn.

I took in every moment and learned what I could.  I connected especially with one speaker, John Sowers, who is now the CEO of "The Mentoring Project" (a ministry designed to help those who've grown up fatherless to connect with a positive person in their lives).  

I started to write and came up with the idea of writing MY story.  If I can tell my story well and with purpose, I will be able to do the same for others.  I will have earned a trust as well as an audience.  That is what happened.  It might not seem like much, but to me... it's just what I need.  It was huge.

The conference was great.  It was so comforting to be surrounded by those who respect the arts and use them to save the church through passion and faith.  They know the importance of art and those who call themselves "artists".  These churches were built on art not on business.  The people that go there are moved and changed by the talent and hope of others; Christ working through them.  They aren't seen as numbers or a monetary unit.  They don't exist to keep the doors open, they exist to worship and love... and create.

I'm called to create.  I'm called to tell the story of those who can't to reflect the work that God does through us; the pain we overcome, the blessings we don't deserve, and the faith and hope we have to reach for the light in the dark.

What is YOUR story?  It does have power.  It should be told.  Tell it.

Thank you so much, Ken and Denise.  Your heart for me is overwhelming and precious and I can't thank you enough.

Brice