By Kaitlyn Bouchillon
God's Brave Women - Kaitlyn's Story
There’s a game I like to play, and it never fails to catch people by surprise. Here’s how it works: I invite someone to grab coffee and once we’ve found a comfortable seat, our hands wrapped around a cup of something delicious, I look into their eyes and say these words: “So, what’s your story?”
Almost every time, they hesitantly respond, “My story? What do you mean, exactly?”
I then offer to go first, to share with them the pages He has given me to live, and for the record, I don’t sugarcoat a single thing. By the time I finish, I can see the relief in their eyes, not because I have masterfully woven together life experiences into a beautiful story but because I’ve been honest, I’ve shown the mess of it all, and I’ve dared to say that the scars that remain are signs of His grace. My tests have truly become my testimony, my mess turning into my message.
"My tests have truly become my testimony, my mess turning into my message."
After I finish the telling, I turn it over and ask again, “Will you tell me your story?” And this time, instead of uncertainty or panic, there is peace. You become a safe place when you share your story, both the broken and the beautiful, with another.
And so they begin and every time I’m in awe of the broken off pieces and the jagged scars from the hurting places — not because they’re messy but because His grace is enough for us all, running in and washing over, healing and mending, changing and cleansing.
We’ve all walked roads that have battered and bruised, wounding us deep. We each carry scars. I used to hide mine, the one on my head from brain surgery and the ones on my heart from the times community walked right out. But not anymore. I’m learning that scars tell the stories of battles fought and won, of fears conquered and dreams chased, of mighty healing and of Jesus meeting us in the dry valleys.