I recently took on the adventure of mentoring a small group of writers. I sometimes wonder what I was thinking. This is no easy task. I daily doubt myself.

But today I read through some of what they’ve courageously submitted for me to review (that’s part of the writers’ group rules—you have to write! And let me read it!). They have each pulled back the curtain on their lives and put into words the events, feelings, and conversations that shaped them.

And I was blown away by how precious each of our lives are, and what a delicate and fierce treasure each of our stories really are.

Becoming a storyteller

Stories of pain, stories of joy, stories of meeting God in the midst of both joy and pain—my writers (I like to claim them as my writers—like adopted children) poured all of that onto the page. I felt honored to receive their words, feelings, stories. I see all of them making progress as they figure out this crazy craft of storytelling. And when I watch them somehow summon the courage to use that skill in the most vulnerable and brave act of all—telling the truth about your life—I feel proud and honored, like they’ve shared a gift. Which they have.

Even if you don’t write it down, your story can inspire others. You can speak your truth, share your experience, offer wisdom that says “me too. I’ve been there. Here’s what i learned.” Whether you do that in the context of a small group of friends, or a mentoring relationship, your story gains strength in being told.

Becoming a story-holder

Even if you are not a writing mentor or editor like me, you can still hold people’s stories, cupping them in your hand like a found seashell or a four-leaf clover. Stories don’t have to be written to be powerful. By simply listening to others, you are fulfilling what Jesus said was the most important: love God, and love others. It’s been said that most people cannot tell the difference between being loved and being listened to, because they feel the same.

By simply making yourself available to listen, with one ear tuned to the story-teller, and the other to the Divine whisper, you can be a story-holder. A receiver and affirmer of the most precious gift each of us has—our story. And by listening, without judgment or interjecting (“that reminds me of–me!”) two things happen.

You get the opportunity to “be Jesus” to another person. You get to serve as ambassadors, offering the attention that God lavishes on us, but with skin (and ears) on. The story teller gets to experience love through you. What a gift to give someone.

As a story-holder, you also get to hear from God. The stories of writers or wanderers or ordinary people are soaked with grace, that sometimes needs to be excavated carefully. You unbury that treasure and find that God has met you, ministered to you, blessed you. You give your attention, you receive the grace that only story-holders experience.

Who needs you to be a “story holder” for them? Who needs the ministry of your listening?

P.S. I write more about the practice of listening (story-holding) in my book Listen. You can grab a copy of the updated and improved 2023 edition on amazon.