A strange thought occurred to me yesterday: Am I in someone else's story?
I thought of all the stories I tell that involve other people. I tell my husband stories about my childhood friend, Laura (or Lou, as I call her), about my family's holidays, about people with whom I went to school. I think I'd just finished telling him about my fun Thanksgivings at my grandmother's house when I was growing up, and I wondered what stories people tell about me.
My pal Missy may tell stories involving musicals or show choir performances. Please, don't let her regale you about my infamous rendition of "Let It Snow" for the local teacher sorority Christmas party. It was—bad. And that's putting it gently. She does a killer Rachel impression on that one.
Crystal, whom I've blogged about before, may tell you about our freshman year of college. We danced to "Greased Lightning" for a res hall audience on more than one occasion and spent our weekends watching either Dirty Dancing or Pure Country while indulging in Papa John's cheese sticks. She may also divulge the secret of the disappearing Winnie-the-Pooh decals our other roommate used to defile our bathroom. In college, people! She could talk about being in my wedding (or me being in hers), or she could talk about the days we've taken turns calling to vent or cry or talk about our kids.
My friend Lou might tell people how we used to roller skate in her basement, or we'd make up choreography to everything from Mozart to New Kids on the Block. Actually, Lou could probably tell a ridiculous amount of embarrassing stories about the two of us (as we were pretty much inseparable for years), but she'd tell them with an air of nostalgia that wouldn't make them sound quite as silly. She's good like that.
But what other stories do people tell about me? Are they good? What kind of an impression have I made on the lives of others? It sounds kind of paranoid, but I suddenly realized that it matters. I mean, silly stories about roller skating may not matter in the grand scheme of things, but what if a story about me starts with, "One time this really mean girl..."? Or, "The most awful person I've ever met is this girl Rachel..." Maybe that's a little far-fetched, but who knows? Maybe they caught me on a bad day. Maybe that was the only encounter they've ever had with me and it was terrible.
What impression are you making on people? When they share stories involving you, are you the hero or the villain? And do any of the stories involve you sharing the Gospel with them?
I've been the villain my fair share, I'm sure, but there's always time to make a change.