You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, known and read by everybody. You
show that you are a letter from Christ, the result of our ministry,
written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on
tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts. 2 Corinthians 3:2-3

I love listening to podcasts. I have several pastor/teachers that I love learning from through their sermon or talks; Rob Bell, Matt Chandler, Naeem Fazal, and of course, Erwin McManus. I used to take tapes and cds of Erwin’s messages when I was going to be away from Mosaic for any length of time; I took some with me to India — where I listened to them so often I nearly had them memorized — and also to Cyprus, where I tried to "ration" them by listening to only one a week (over and over, of course). Even when I was at Mosaic I would get the sermon on cd and listen to it as I drove to work and back. I’ve found with Erwin — with all these guys, actually — that I learn even more on the third and fourth listening. I get so caught up in the initial things God speaks to me through their words that I miss other things. Repeated listening helps me catch what I missed earlier.

I’ve been going through Erwin’s sermons on the billboards of LA, and today I listened to the latest (perhaps last?) in the series, entitled, "Don’t Read Billboards." One thing he said that struck me hard was that we are always writing our stories on the hearts of those around us, those closest to us. How we live and who we are, and who we are becoming–who we are striving to become– impacts those around us in such a way that it gets written on their hearts about us, and about the God we worship. Our lives are the best billboards there are; the human conversation, living and breathing and communicating messages, whether we know it or not. It really got me to thinking, what story of mine is being written on the hearts of those around me?

For some I think it’s a positive one; one of striving for emotional and spiritual health, moving from unhealthy, even diseased, toward wholeness and recovery. But for others, I know I am writing a vastly different story. (please note this post continues after the jump — see below)

For those my story is dark, ugly, unkind, angry, codependent,
diseased.  My frustration with them, my intolerance of their particular
brand of crazy, my dislike of them, even disdain of them, impacts their
heart as deeply as if I stoned them with largest, most jagged rocks I
could find.

I know this is true, that I am writing my story on the hearts of those
around me, when I think about my parents. I can see in retrospect that
my parents wrote their stories on my heart. Who they were, and who they
became as I grew older, has been seared into the pages of my heart,
impacting me and who I became, and can only be erased — those things
that need erasing — by the blood of Jesus spattered all over them,
covering them completely.

The friends I have had through the years have also written their stories on my heart.
Some have been stories of joy, hope, compassion, of ever striving
toward more health, wholeness, and recovery; of love, peace, kindness,
and deep spirituality and trust in God. Others have written darker
stories; stories of codependency, addiction, abuse, resentment,
bitterness, distrust, and self-reliance and sufficiency. A few
relationships I’ve had were mutually toxic to the point that the
stories we each wrote on the other’s heart were ones of extreme
codependency and emotional devastation.

I realize I cannot be perfect. I realize also that God does not judge
me, and especially not by any measure with which I judge myself. But
all the same, it is heartbreaking to realize that my life, who I am
right now, can so powerfully negate all the good and godly things I want and
hope to impart upon people.

There are only a couple of people in my life at the moment that truly
irritate me beyond all reason. But if I am around them
very long, I really struggle to be kind, gentle, even just polite. I’ve
learned to limit my time around them whenever possible, and I’m
learning to walk away when the desire to scratch their eyes out with a
sharpie first begins to tickle at my heart (rather than waiting till
it’s nearly overwhelming). But I have to wonder, I know what story they
are writing about themselves on my heart — and it ain’t pretty — but
what story am I writing on theirs? Is it the same story of ever moving
from diseased toward wholeness, from fear toward trust, from
controlling toward serenity, that I am (hopefully) writing on the
hearts of others, or is it a story that wallows in irritation, anger,
arrogance, and pride?

PS — I disagree with Erwin on one point in this sermon. I don’t
believe that I need only look at those around me — whether they are
moving ever more toward health and wholeness, or becoming more
emotionally broken through wounds from my hands — to tell me about
myself, my own life story. Those things show me the impact of my
broken, jagged edges, yes, or the more refined, healthier pieces of me.
But the don’t show me who I am, only how I impact others.

Only God can truly reveal to me who I am — through the pages of His story in His Word. If I will let Him, when
I let Him, He writes His story on my heart, and in doing so, reveals to
me who I really am, right now in Him, and who He dreams me to be in all
my tomorrows.

We all write our stories on the hearts of those around us. What are we
writing on those pages? And are we allowing God to write on our hearts
His story, and as He does so, reveal to us who we really are? Or are we allowing the
voices of others to drown out His words of Life to us, about us, and
scar the pages of our hearts with their own broken, jagged edges?

But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in
Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge
of him. For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. To the one we are the smell of death; to the other, the fragrance of life. — 2 Corinthians 2:14-16