Sharing Our Stories: How Storytelling Helps Us Heal

BY Brian Fisher

February 5, 2025

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Why does telling and retelling our stories matter so deeply in spiritual formation? In this reflection, Brian explores discipleship, neuroscience, trauma, healing, and the transformative power of sharing our stories in safe and loving community.


Sharing Our Stories: How Storytelling Helps Us Heal

Our stories matter, particularly the moments we would rather forget.

The losses, betrayals, disappointments, family patterns, joys, wounds, and relationships we have experienced do not remain neatly in the past. They help form the ideas and desires that govern us in the present—often without our awareness.

Yet many of us have learned to treat the past as something we should simply leave behind. We are encouraged to move forward, get over it, forgive and forget, or stop dwelling on what cannot be changed.

Sometimes that advice is well-intended. Sometimes we genuinely do become trapped in unhelpful rumination. But refusing to explore our stories is not the same as becoming free from them.

A story that remains hidden may continue shaping our thoughts, emotions, relationships, behaviors, and ideas about God. Sharing our stories carefully and truthfully can help bring those hidden influences into the light.

Your Story Is Part of Your Spiritual Formation

We naturally recognize the importance of God’s story. We read and reread Scripture, celebrate the same events every year, rehearse the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, and remind one another of God’s faithfulness.

We do this because stories form us.

But there is another story worth exploring: the story of you.

Your story is not separate from the story God is writing. Nor is it more important than His. But it is the particular place where you have experienced love and loss, security and abandonment, trust and betrayal, delight and disappointment.

Those experiences have helped shape how you understand:

  • Who God is
  • Who you are
  • Whether other people are safe
  • Whether your desires matter
  • Whether you are worthy of love
  • Whether the world is fundamentally good or dangerous

Some of those conclusions are conscious. Many are not.

This is why self-knowledge is not a distraction from discipleship. If we are becoming more like Jesus from the inside out, we must eventually become aware of what is happening inside us.

Why Telling the Story Once Is Usually Not Enough

We sometimes imagine that healing should work like giving a report.

We explain what happened, identify the lesson, say that we have forgiven everyone involved, and then move on.

But hearts rarely work that quickly.

The first time we tell a painful story, we may share only what feels safe. We might state the facts without expressing the emotions. We may unconsciously protect someone who harmed us, minimize what happened, blame ourselves, or leave out details we have not yet learned how to name.

That does not mean we are intentionally dishonest. It means our hearts often reveal truth gradually.

This is why we may need to tell the same story more than once.

Each retelling can help us notice something previously hidden:

  • An emotion we could not feel before
  • A detail we had dismissed
  • A false responsibility we accepted
  • A pattern that has repeated in later relationships
  • A conclusion about God or ourselves that formed during the experience

The story itself does not change. But our ability to understand it more truthfully can.

The original article rightly emphasized that stories are often transformed through repeated telling in healthy environments with attentive people.

When the Heart Blames Itself

Consider betrayal.

Someone who has been betrayed may quickly assume they caused it. Blaming ourselves can sometimes feel safer than acknowledging that a trusted person acted selfishly, deceptively, or cruelly.

Self-blame preserves a certain kind of control. If the betrayal happened because I was not attractive enough, attentive enough, spiritual enough, or successful enough, perhaps I can prevent it from happening again by becoming better.

The alternative may feel more frightening: another person possessed the freedom to harm me, and I could not control their choice.

The mind may eventually recognize that the betrayer bears responsibility. But the heart may take much longer to accept it.

Repeatedly telling the story to someone who listens compassionately can help separate true responsibility from false responsibility. Over time, the story may become more accurate:

  • I was imperfect, but I did not deserve betrayal.
  • I missed warning signs, but I did not cause another person’s deception.
  • I can acknowledge my failures without assuming responsibility for theirs.
  • What happened to me was real, and it mattered.

That movement toward truth can slowly loosen shame.

The Importance of a Safe Listener

Not every person is entitled to hear our story.

Sharing our stories can be healing, but only when the listener is sufficiently safe, patient, and trustworthy.

A healthy listener does not:

  • Rush to correct our theology
  • Explain why the pain was ultimately good for us
  • Pressure us to forgive prematurely
  • Turn the story into gossip
  • Compare our suffering with someone else’s
  • Offer simplistic Bible verses in place of presence
  • Become uncomfortable when the same story is told again

A healthy listener remains present.

They ask thoughtful questions. They allow silence. They help us notice emotions without forcing conclusions. They remind us that our pain does not make us weak, faithless, or defective.

They do not attempt to become our savior. They simply offer the kind of relational safety in which truth can gradually emerge.

For deeply traumatic experiences, this process may also require a qualified counselor or therapist. Christian community is essential, but it should not be asked to replace professional care when specialized help is needed.

Why Modern Christianity Often Avoids the Past

Many Christian cultures are oriented toward movement, productivity, and achievement.

We emphasize going, serving, leading, multiplying, accomplishing, and changing the world. These impulses can be good. But they can also create communities that have little patience for grief, reflection, slowness, or the careful exploration of our histories.

Looking backward may be interpreted as selfishness.

Talking about wounds may be labeled bitterness.

Acknowledging family dysfunction may be seen as dishonoring our parents.

Describing painful church experiences may be dismissed as divisive or disloyal.

Yet Scripture repeatedly invites people to remember. Israel rehearsed its deliverance and its failures. The Psalms revisit abandonment, betrayal, fear, anger, and despair. The Gospel writers repeatedly tell the story of Jesus, including the confusion and failure of His closest friends.

Biblical faith does not require us to pretend that painful events did not happen. It invites us to revisit them in the presence of God.

Sharing Our Stories Is Not Living in the Past

There is a difference between becoming trapped in the past and returning to it with purpose.

We do not revisit our stories merely to assign blame, justify resentment, or rehearse grievances forever. We return because something formed there.

Perhaps we concluded that love is unsafe.

Perhaps we learned that our emotions are inconvenient.

Perhaps we decided that conflict always ends in abandonment.

Perhaps we began to experience God as distant, controlling, disappointed, or unpredictable.

Those ideas may still govern us decades later, even if we consciously reject them.

Sharing our stories helps us bring these hidden conclusions into awareness. Once they are named, they can be examined with God and trusted others.

We can ask:

  • What did I conclude about myself?
  • What did I conclude about other people?
  • What did I conclude about God?
  • Which conclusions were true?
  • Which were understandable but harmful?
  • What might God want me to experience now that I could not experience then?

That is not pointless introspection. It is part of learning to live truthfully.

Storytelling and the Inward Journey

The Christian spiritual journey is not simply the accumulation of correct beliefs. It also involves the slow reformation of our lived ideas and desires.

A person may intellectually believe that God loves them unconditionally while living as though every failure threatens the relationship.

Another may affirm that all human beings bear God’s image while quietly believing they are uniquely defective.

Another may teach forgiveness while remaining unable to trust anyone because betrayal has never been acknowledged or grieved.

The mind and heart do not always move at the same pace.

Sharing our stories can help the heart begin to catch up with truths the mind already knows.

This process usually takes time. It requires patience, repetition, community, intimacy, and wise instruction—the same formative elements we find in other deeply transformative environments.

You Do Not Have to Tell Everything at Once

The invitation to explore your story is not an invitation to expose everything immediately.

Healthy vulnerability has boundaries.

You may begin with one memory, one relationship, one recurring emotional reaction, or one question that continues to surface.

You might ask:

  • Why does this particular criticism affect me so deeply?
  • Why do I assume people will leave?
  • Why am I uncomfortable receiving care?
  • Why do I feel guilty when I rest?
  • Why does God seem disappointed even though I believe He loves me?
  • Why do I continually take responsibility for everyone else’s emotions?

These questions may lead into your story.

Move gently. Pay attention to your body and emotions. Do not force yourself to revisit experiences you are not ready to explore. Invite God into the process, and choose your listeners carefully.

The goal is not emotional excavation for its own sake. The goal is greater truthfulness, freedom, love, and communion.

Read It Again

Children often ask us to read the same story repeatedly.

Again. And again. And again.

Perhaps they understand something we have forgotten. Stories are not merely information delivered once. They are experiences we enter repeatedly until they become part of us.

Our own stories can work in a similar way.

When shared in safe, loving relationships, the stories that once isolated us may eventually become places of connection. What once produced shame may become an invitation to compassion. What once seemed confusing may slowly become understandable.

We cannot change what happened.

But in the presence of God and trustworthy people, we may learn to tell the truth about it—and discover that the truth no longer has to destroy us.

Brian Fisher is the founder of Soil & Roots and the author of Soil & Roots: Cultivating Deep Discipleship. He writes and speaks about spiritual formation, the inner life, and how people become more like Jesus from the inside out.

Learn more about Brian and his work.

Explore Further!

The Discipleship Dilemma
How to Begin the Inward Journey with God Safely
The Formation Gap

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