The Story We Must Tell

Photo Credit: alexkerhead/Creative Commons

A familiar voice I’ll always remember was Paul Harvey’s. The Rest of the Story Harvey won over millions with his easy-going demeanor and his “regular guy” persona.

I was a young girl when I first heard the radio broadcaster and I liked him immediately. Something about the way Paul Harvey spoke and how he carried himself on air resonated with me. He seemed real. Someone I’d want to know better. He was the type of fellow who told it like it was and the world was better for it.  

You may recall the inspiring (and probably my favorite) Super Bowl commercial this past year–the Dodge Ram advertisement which featured Paul Harvey’s So God Made a Farmer speech from 1978. Amidst the other colorful ad “choices” (oops, I almost said “junk”) during Super Bowl evening, I liked this one a lot. It made me think of Paul Harvey, the American Dream, writing, and stories–those slice-of-life vignettes that sock it to our hearts in a no-nonsense fashion.

Since I write Heartfelt, Homespun Fiction, I can appreciate God-centered, family oriented tales told with unique spins and moral-to-the-story undertones.

While some would have us believe there’s not much interest in the wholesome or uplifting, I would beg to differ. I think now more than ever, folks crave the extraordinary found in the ordinary.  In other words, in today’s world of darkness and chaos, I believe many of us long to get back to the basics. We want to discover something beautiful in the mundane–the thing we know as “life.” After all, our Creator meant for us to live, not simply exist.

We want to read real stories about real people who have real problems, yes, but with this understanding: we want to know there’s hope. A light at the end of the tunnel. The very thing that Christ promises to those who love Him.

As Christian authors, it’s up to us to tell these stories. The stories of survivors restored and sinners redeemed. The stories of our hearts. The stories God lays on our hearts.

We must tell the good, the bad, and the ugly with a gentle, but forthright pen and pray that we do it for all the right reasons.

Paul Harvey was a master at this. He tugged our heartstrings with his stories and then pulled no punches. We bonded with his characters at the outset because they were often just like us–ordinary, everyday folks who stumbled, got back up, and tried again–usually with help.

We can’t expect our readers to want to know the rest of the story unless they care about the ordinary first. And that generally involves words like broken and flawed.

And reassembled.

And fixed.

By grace.

By God.

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What story must YOU tell?

What’s your vision for the “rest of the story”?

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(Due to a family medical situation, I won’t post on Friday. I’d love for you to join me next Wednesday!)

Photo Credit: alexkerhead/Creative Commons

Blessings Always,