- “I love your stories.”
- “Your stories touched me right here,” she said pointing to her heart.
- “Your story about your grandmother brought me back to a deep and painful memory about my own grandmother.”
- “I can just picture your father saying that on the beach.”
None of my fellow worshippers mentioned my erudite theological reflection; no one complimented my scriptural exegesis; and no one was wowed by the sophisticated metaphors I crafted for my first ever sermon, preached this past Sunday at the Montauk Community Church.
It was all about the stories. A story about my father embracing his life, even near the end of a 21-year struggle with Parkinson’s disease. A story about facing my fears and finally getting up on that stand-up paddle board. A story about my grandmother’s zest for life and the abundant bowl of creamy mashed potatoes she regularly encouraged me to eat.
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