Transportable Testimony

Here is a tale of a snail-mail letter sealed and never sent:
A story enveloped and stamped.

Here is a tale of the transportable:
treated as trash.

You see the surface of this story, and you wonder how many times you:

  • close off the story.
  • place a seal of approval or rejection on the edges of these story snippets.
  • label these stories, as though you have the authority to address and author the story.
  • name these stories, giving them an identity, without looking into contents and context.

You open the envelope with the knife in the top drawer, and wonder: 

  • can a story speak truth to the soul if you dare to cut open the paper layers?
  • can you unwrap the packages people present to you?
  • can you find stories of permanent marking on temporal material?
  • can person and place, paper and face, have worth apart from the world?
  • can a story hold profound measure when placed against the light of eternity?


In a gentle slice,  you see the surface of the story slide to the ground. The envelope escaping the grip of gravity. You wonder if a story can transcend the knives of the world that tear open ‘paper’ truths. You wonder if there are blades that pierce the bloody Truth.

See, the knives of the world take a slice at the stories of worth. How might we know if the paper cut is worse, worse than a surface wound? Perhaps the paper stories of our lives can bear nail holes that stab near the heart of truth. Perhaps that is why, when stories are uncovered, exposed, truthfully -and- vulnerably revealed, they hit hard… a nail to the heart. 

in your hands is a transportable testimony.

As the fingers fold around the fragile pieces of the story, you hold the weight of the words against your worth. This. This is your story of stone, engraved with emotion, established for eternity. The paper of your present won’t wait until the ink of the indecipherable future sinks in. The eternal encounter is here.

The temporary tests carve the tangible testimony and the thank you at the end of your story can be told now, before the tale is complete.


Thank you for the tests.
Thank you for the knife.
Thank you for sending a blade to the mess.
Thank you for the beauty in the story.

This is your story. The trash turned truths. The letter of your life.

Will you share your story?
Sealed with approval from the Author of Life.
Labelled with identity in Christ.
Named in authority, by the knife of another’s life.
A test turned victory, free to be released.

May our transportable testimonies touch lives, break divides, and glorify Christ.


Respond from the Heart