Before it’s too late, and that can happen so quickly,
Why not collect your stories of life,
And share them with those who care.
I only wish I had taken the time to ask this question:
What story will you tell me today?
Dad. Mom. Grandparents. Pastor. Friend.
The generation that grew up may be too old
To share the stories in some social posts.
You may not care now, but once they’re gone
The stories of youth, life, victories, and challenges,
They are the fodder for making someone else better.
Help them now. Tell your own story. Start today.
My uncle has been in the hospital this weekend.
I remember him when I was three or four.
At a lake on a floating air mattress. It flipped.
I floundered. Sputtered. He was there to right the ship.
Those are the stories each of us have.
A teacher, boss, friend, neighbor, or loved one.
Share them today, but whatever method you have.
My method is blogging. How long will these stories last?
Perhaps you can sing your story or write a memoir.
Blogging and social posts will only work for those who read.
I can imagine the campfire of my youth,
While the older folks reminisce their days of old,
I wonder…Will we ever have the time to do this again?
A Favorite Hymn:
Tell Me The Story of Jesus by Fanny Crosby, 1880
1 Tell me the story of Jesus.
Write on my heart every word!
Tell me the story most precious,
Sweetest that ever was heard.
Tell how the angels in chorus
Sang, as they welcomed His birth,
“Glory to God in the highest,
Peace and good tidings to earth.”
Refrain:
Tell me the story of Jesus,
Write on my heart every word,
Tell me the story most precious,
Sweetest that ever was heard.
2 Fasting alone in the desert,
Tell of the days that He passed;
How He was tried and was tempted,
Yet was triumphant at last.
Tell of the years of His labours,
Tell of the sorrows He bore;
He was despised and afflicted,
Homeless, rejected, and poor.
3 Tell of the cross where they nailed Him,
Dying in anguish and pain;
Tell of the grave where they laid Him;
Tell how He liveth again.
Love, in that story so tender,
Clearer than ever I see;
Stay, let me weep while you whisper,
Love paid the ransom for me.