What Part of My Story Is Asking to Be Expressed Through Words, Art, Conversation, or Presence?
AYFM 2026 Reflection Card
This post is part nine in a ten part series answering each of the questions in the As You Find Me 2026 Reflection Card. Revisit part one, part two, part three, part four. Dive back into part five, part six, part seven. Jump start part eight. You are encouraged to answer each question for yourself.
There’s a question on the As You Find Me 2026 Reflection Card that feels less like a prompt and more like a gentle tug on the sleeve of my soul:
“What part of my story is asking to be expressed through words, art, conversation, or presence?”
Not the polished part.
Not the part I’ve already figured out.
Not the part I know how to narrate.
The part that’s alive.
The part that’s stirring.
The part that keeps whispering, “Tell the truth about me.”
And when I sit with that, I can feel exactly which part of my story is asking to be expressed:
The story of how meaning keeps revealing itself in the raw, unpolished places of my life.
The Story That Keeps Emerging in the Quiet
Lately, I’ve been wrestling with authenticity. What feels genuine versus what feels performative, especially in my spiritual life. I’ve been asking where God actually shows up, not where I think He should.
And the surprising answer has been:
In the unpolished places.
In the unscripted moments.
In the parts of my life I don’t curate.
Like sitting next to Ben, playing Roblox.
At first, it felt “unproductive,” like I should be doing something more meaningful. But then something softened. I remembered playing Nintendo with my own dad. I felt the sacredness of simply being there. And suddenly, that moment became a doorway into connection, into memory, into something holy.
That’s the story that’s asking to be told:
God in the pixels.
God in the laughter.
God in the places I’m not performing.
The Tension Between Performing and Being
There’s a deeper thread running through all of this:
A tension between performing and being.
I carry so many roles (father, husband, professional, person of faith) and in each one, I sometimes wonder:
Am I being real, or am I playing a part?
Am I showing up, or am I managing perception?
Am I present, or am I performing presence?
This tension isn’t a flaw.
It’s a story.
A living one.
And it’s asking to be expressed not as a confession, but as a truth-telling. A way of naming the gap between who I’ve been and who I’m becoming.
The Story That Wants Expression
When I listen closely, I can sense the ways this story wants to come out:
1. Through words
Writing about the quiet moments where meaning sneaks in sideways through a game controller, a memory, a breath in the middle of anxiety.
2. Through conversation
Telling Ben about my own childhood, not as a lesson but as a bridge. Letting him see the boy I was, not just the dad I am.
3. Through prayer
Not the structured kind.
The honest kind.
The kind where I stop trying to impress God and simply tell Him what’s true.
4. Through presence
Letting myself be in the “unproductive” moments without guilt.
Letting connection count.
Letting being be enough.
This is the part of my story that’s alive right now the part that’s asking to be expressed not because it’s finished, but because it’s unfolding.
The Sacred Middle of Telling the Truth
Maybe the invitation of this season isn’t to craft a perfect narrative.
Maybe it’s simply to tell the truth about where I find meaning:
In the unpolished places.
In the raw edges.
In the moments that don’t look spiritual but somehow are.
In the tension between who I’ve been and who I’m becoming.
Maybe the story asking to be expressed is the one that says:
“God is here too.
In the ordinary.
In the messy.
In the moments I almost overlook.”
And maybe that’s enough for now.
Answering the As You Find Me 2026 Reflection Card questions is possible due to journaling with Rosebud. Rosebud offers something rare: a space that listens back. It turns journaling from a monologue into a conversation, helping you slow down enough to hear what your inner life has been trying to say.