A CALL TO STORY STEWARDSHIP
A sacred invitation to shepherds, stewards, and saints.
Since the beginning of Christianity, personal testimonies have been one of the primary ways the Church has grown, discipled, and borne witness to the glory of God. We were created by God to know Him—and to help others know Him—through stories.
We’ve heard the exhortation to “share our faith” from the pulpit. We’ve read it in Scripture. We’ve been reminded over and over of the power of testimony—so much so that, if we’re being honest, many of us—from the pews to the pulpit—have become numb to it.
We now carry technology in our pockets that the early Church could have never imagined. At our fingertips, we have the power to capture, preserve, and share the stories of God’s people—more easily and effectively than ever before. And yet… most believers will live and die without ever sharing the story of how God changed their life. Each of us has lost someone dear to us whose story was never told—perhaps never even truly known.
Across churches all over the world, a silent epidemic has gone largely unnoticed:
Multitudes of testimonies are bound, covered up, overlooked, untold, and unshared.
These are stories of salvation, redemption, healing, sanctification, and restoration. And we are failing to steward them—intentionally, regularly, and reverently. That failure has a name. It’s not just busyness or apathy or oversight.
It’s story poverty.
And who suffers from this silence?
Our loved ones,
future generations,
our workplaces, and our communities.
Even pastors and ministry leaders—many on the verge of burnout—are needlessly robbed of the hope and joy these uncovered and unleashed stories could bring.
But perhaps most of all, it’s all the ones who follow Christ and yet have remained silent with their story—more scared than prepared, bound by a myriad of hindrances, hurts, and hangups. If we’re getting real, most Christians—even the most seasoned and mature—are largely either unwilling, unable, or not ready to share their story.
I’m not here to say or suggest if, when, or how people should share their story.
What I am saying is this:
Rarely do we slow down long enough to ask why people wouldn’t or couldn’t share their story. Rarely do we deal with—or even identify—the practical obstacles and barriers that keep churches in story poverty.
So what’s beneath the silence? What has fostered such hesitation and ambivalence? What could change if we asked God to illuminate these things and meet us where we are? And what hangs in the balance if we do nothing?
Here’s the stark truth that few people rarely think or talk about—especially those responsible for planting, growing, or sustaining churches: the way most churches are structured and operate—even the most ‘successful’ and ‘healthy’ churches—not intentionally, but functionally, makes story stewardship not just difficult… it actually creates inertia against it.
In my travels, few leaders have been willing to acknowledge that story poverty exists. I’m hopeful that’s simply because they haven’t really thought about it—or it hasn’t been brought to their attention. After all, even a cursory and honest examination will reveal not just evidence of mild tendencies toward story poverty, but rather abject story poverty.
But… imagine if a group of believers—even just a few—were courageous enough to pause. To name story poverty for what it is. To own it. To humble themselves—not trying to defend or dismiss it—but to confess it and repent. To stand in the gap. And to help carry the weight, rather than place it on all our pastors and church leaders. Not to criticize them, but to serve them. Not to demand or expect change, but to be the change. To become a people who resolve to return to the sacred responsibility of stewarding stories—not as one more thing to do out of duty or pressure, but as a sacred offering of love—an act of personal and collective worship, woven into the Church’s very heartbeat. A worship that flows beyond the walls, carrying light into the darkness and healing into a hurting world.
We’ve been entrusted with countless testimonies—and the technology to capture, share, and preserve them. The question is: what are we going to do with it? We know that we reap what we sow—and the longer we wait, the more we stand to either lose or gain, exponentially.
Let’s not overlook the infinite return on investment of stewarding stories. And let us not ignore the weeping and gnashing that will come from burying what was entrusted to us.
The Church has a kairos opportunity and responsibility to reap and share a historic harvest of stories in this generation—and break the generational curse of story poverty. But before we begin sowing any significant amount of time, talent, or treasure, it would be wise to take the time and care to survey the soil.
And if you are willing to help, it’s as simple as taking a simple 2-minute Story Survey. Two minutes to be with God—contemplating a few questions you’ve probably never been asked. Honestly. Courageously.
You can take the survey at www.stewardingstories.com/survey
By simply taking this one intentional step, you’ll be helping in more ways than you can imagine. It will provide deeper insight for prayer and discernment and help connect like-minded, like-hearted people who are sensing an invitation and call to turn from story poverty—and toward story stewardship.