There are not many organisations I support as I support To Write Love On Her Arms. When I was in the midst of my addiction to cutting, I found comfort in the story TWLOHA tells. I found solace in the stars after reading those words because they reminded me of hope. The clouds became a reminder of the stars, because I knew they were merely hiding behind those grey masses. They weren’t gone. Hope would never leave me.
I own the t-shirts.
I have the badges on my bag.
I have the word ‘love’ tattooed on my wrist to remind me that I am not the faded scars on my arm. They do not define me. Love does.
This story still has me captivated. I still wear the t-shirts. I still read the words sometimes, just to remind me.
The power of one story is immeasurable. If this story has gripped me for so long, then the gospel will hold me for eternity, but I worry that perhaps it feels less tangible when I tell that story. When I tell the story of how God stepped into our mess, and did not simply clean it up, but bore it on his shoulders – bore it on His body – do I tell it with as much conviction as I tell the story of hope written in the stars?
Well, the gospel doesn’t need my conviction to be convincing, but all the same, the only reason the To Write Love On Her Arms story captivates me is because the word ‘love’ cannot be understood apart from Christ. As I read those words, the voice of youth leaders echoed in my mind, reminding me of where hope came from.
God has used a story to captivate me for all these years. The story of hope in the darkness. The story that would not exist without Christ. The story of Christ, at work today. Here. Now. Eternally.
What story captivates you?