Why I Tell Stories

The frenzied midnight drive to the hospital an hour away, my mom sick the entire way. The words of the doctor as he came into the labor and delivery room, “This might be twins,” when a week before he’d proclaimed, “There will be one baby. It will be small and it will be early.”

The nurses telling my dad he was the father of twins, which he responded to by sliding from a standing position against the hallway wall to a seated one. The call to my Grandma Ruby awhile later to announce that the grandchild she’d been expecting was actually twins, a boy and a girl—followed by her insistence that he was joking.

There were other moments, too. When the doctors explained that my brother’s lungs weren’t developed, and if a baby worse off than him were born, their 4-pound, 4 ounce baby boy would be flown to St. Louis. That moment in front of the nursery window when my dad stood looking at his son and another father walked up and said, “I’m not sure that little guy will make it,” his gaze firmly fixed on my brother.

There was the prayer in the car when my dad trusted both our lives to his Father as he drove to the hospital. The month of driving back and forth until I finally came home. The first Sunday my parents had both their children at home and the living room was full of visitors.

The story of my and my brother’s birth is one of the defining stories of my childhood. In recounting all of that, again and again, my parents’ story told us who we were. Beloved children. Answered prayers. Miracles. Living proof that nothing is impossible with God.

Last week, I was listening to a podcast (Throughline) and the hosts were interviewing Ken Burns. They asked about his process, his storytelling philosophy and near the end, Burns said something that made me replay the last 30 seconds. Quoting the novelist Richard Powers, Burns said:

“The best arguments in the world won’t change a person’s mind. Only a good story can do that.” Richard Powers, The Overstory

So why do I tell stories for a living? Because stories tell us who we are, just as that long ago story from my parents has shaped how I think about myself, my purpose, my brother as well as others.

The stories we tell shape the people, the nation and the world we become. So let’s tell stories that matter. That inspire. That cause us to want to be different or better. Let’s tell stories about important things and difficult topics and issues we disagree on so that we can see beyond rhetoric to the people who are affected.

Let’s tell stories.