Telling the Greatest Story You’ve Lived

He pulled the line in fast, hand over hand, the rod bent in a deep arc, the reel whizzed like a plane. It was the biggest fish he’d ever hooked—he just knew it—thirty minutes of back-and-forth with a creature he couldn’t see. Then, with one final surge, the thing broke the surface. It was a monster that looked like it had wings. But like most great fishing stories, the line snapped. And just like that, it was gone. But the story lives on. He’s told it a hundred times. And the fish gets bigger every time.

A woman sits with friends at a lunch table, still aching from grief. Her husband had passed just months earlier. At one point, she glances across the restaurant and thinks she sees him sitting there, smiling and typing something on his phone. Her heart skips a beat. Suddenly her phone buzzes. To her surprise, a video comes across her text. In their old backyard, it's him wrestling a garden hose, water spraying everywhere. He had scheduled the video to send months ago on a random day just as a surprise. She could hardly believe it and could not stop the tears. She shows her friends the video. “This is love,” she whispers.

A fisherman is lost at sea for fourteen months. He drifts across the Pacific Ocean in a tiny boat. He has no compass, no motor, no supplies. He survives by eating raw fish and drinking rainwater. Everyone thinks he’s dead. But somehow he survives and washes ashore—alive. He looks terrible and is barely alive. His story is unbelievable but true.

We love these kinds of stories. We tell them and we listen to others tell them, mouth agape and eyes wide. Everybody loves a great story. 

So I have a question for you: 

Why don’t we tell the story of our rescue from sin the same way? 

Why is it so hard to tell the story of the moment everything changed?

Maybe because the story of our salvation from sin doesn’t feel like a story that people want to hear, after all, it’s spiritual, subjective. It’s metaphysical. You can’t back it up with photos or autopsy reports. And let’s be honest—salvation stories are often seen as controversial. You start talking about Jesus, and you can almost see people squirm.

But aren’t all our favorite stories a little unbelievable?

Fishing stories? There are almost always zero witnesses. A text from beyond the grave? That’s a little far-fetched. Near-death experiences? Most people just nod quietly and say, “Wow,” without asking for proof. We believe these stories not because they come with spreadsheets or GPS pins, but usually because the person who’s telling them so clearly believes in what they’re saying.

Why it’s hard to share

So why is the most significant, life-altering event you’ve ever experienced so hard to talk about?

Our culture has trained us to feel embarrassed by the spiritual. We’ve been conditioned to trust testable, repeatable, and observable things. Modern society has left very little room for the miraculous.

And yet, millions of people have stories—dramatic stories of the before and after of salvation.

Think about the man named Onesimus. His story is found in the Bible in the book of Philemon. He was once a runaway slave, most likely a thief. But Paul writes a letter confirming he is a brother in Christ whose debts should be completely wiped away. 

What about Nicodemus, in John 3? He was a religious scholar who came to Jesus at night and was the first person ever to hear the words of John 3:16. But even after hearing those words, he was uncertain about Jesus. Later, he boldly stands at the cross and assists in burying the body of Jesus with the spices of burial that are fit for a king.

What changed these people?

The Gospel does. That’s what Jesus does.

So if you’ve been rescued, you have your own “before and after” story. You need to stop being afraid to share it.

Want to learn how? 

Here are some simple tips: 

Start simple.

Just tell someone what changed. “I used to be…” “But now I’m…” That’s it. Lay out the facts.

Be honest about the mess.

Nobody connects with perfection. Real people connect with struggle. So share the questions, the doubts, and the broken parts. That’s what makes a great story anyway.

Don’t preach. Just testify.

You’re not trying to win an argument. You’re telling your story. People can argue theology, but can’t argue your life’s experience.

Find your anchor moment.

Maybe it wasn’t a flash of light or a dramatic turning point. Perhaps it was a slow realization or an experience that came from a thousand little nudges in your heart. That’s just as powerful.

Ask God to open a door.

Seriously. Ask Him. “Lord, if there’s someone who needs to hear what You’ve done in me, give me the moment.” He will.

You have experienced the greatest thing that’s ever happened to you. So tell it just like that because that’s what it is.

And by the way, if you’ve never had this experience, well . . . have I got a story to tell you!