Saturday night, I heard Dr. Bill Federer, the world-renowned historian, speak. His presentation was layered with the kind of insight that only comes from a lifetime spent in the company of great lives. But his closing line stayed with me — one that demands self-examination.
He said: When we reach heaven and meet Moses, David, and Daniel, we’ll want to hear their stories. But those greats will also want to hear about our acts of bravery and kingdom work.
Lord, have mercy.
Imagine Moses, who faced down Pharaoh, asking about my work. Imagine Paul, who was shipwrecked, stoned, beaten, and imprisoned for the Gospel, leaning in to hear what I did with the life I was given. It rearranges your priorities in a hurry.
Warriors Know This Instinct
Anyone who has served in the military knows this in their bones. We love our war stories. Every squadron bar, every reunion, every hangar flight is filled with, "There I was...." They are more than entertainment — they are how we bond, how we teach the next lieutenant what the manual can’t, and how we honor the ones who didn’t come home. A warrior who won’t tell the story is robbing the next generation of the lesson.
Fixing F-15s and F-16s at Shaw, Bitburg, and Lakenheath, I learned early that stories were sacred. When a Colonel shared a close call from Desert Storm, he wasn’t bragging. He was passing the torch.
That’s what stories do. They transfer wisdom that won’t survive any other way.
Why I Stay Embedded
This is why, as a speaker and consultant, I never just parachute in and deliver a keynote. I stay embedded with the companies I serve — sitting in their conference rooms, walking their hallways, and hearing what their people are wrestling with on a Tuesday afternoon in March.
Because that’s where the real stories live.
There’s a difference between a speaker who has stories from twenty years ago and a speaker who has stories from last week. The motivational circuit is full of people recycling the same three anecdotes from decades past. I don’t want to be one of them. I want to be a practitioner who speaks, not a speaker who used to practice.
The best speakers know this: you had better have some great stories. And the only way to have great stories is to keep living them.
Why I Publish
This is why I do what I do at Tremendous Leadership. My father, Charlie “Tremendous” Jones, knew that an untold story is a lost one. He spent his life gathering, preserving, and sharing stories so they would outlive the teller.
Here’s a sobering truth: every person who dies with their story untold takes a library to the grave. Every veteran, every entrepreneur, every mother, every missionary, every faithful servant who assumed “nobody would want to read about me” — their wisdom vanishes the moment they stop breathing.
That’s why I publish. That’s why I push my authors through the line edits, endorsements, cover revisions, and proof pages. Because the book you hold in your hand is a story that will outlive its author. It is a torch passed forward.
The Question Underneath
Here’s the deeper question — one that matters whether or not you ever write, take a stage, or serve a day in uniform:
Are you living a story worth telling?
Not “do you have a story?” Everyone has a story. The real question is whether the story you are living right now is one you’d want Moses to hear about, one you’d want your grandchildren to inherit, one worth capturing because it was worth living.
My father used to tell me I needed to “earn my stripes.” He meant: live it first. Go do the thing. Fight the good fight. Finish the race. Keep the faith. Accumulate a life of obedience and courage and faithful small choices so that when someone finally asks, you have something to say.
You cannot preach what you have not lived. You cannot publish what you have not earned. You cannot stand on a stage and tell stories you never bothered to make.
The Invitation
So here’s the invitation, friend. Wherever you are — in the cockpit, in the cubicle, in the carpool line — live a story worth telling.
Take the hard assignment. Have the uncomfortable conversation. Forgive the person you’ve been holding a grudge against. Start the business. Mentor the kid. Show up for the friend. Speak the truth in love when silence would be easier. Do the faithful small thing nobody sees.
Earn your stripes.
Because one day you’re going to meet Moses. And he’s going to ask.
And when he does, I want you to have something to say.
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Tracey C. Jones is President of Tremendous Leadership, a former Air Force officer, an author of 14 books, and an international speaker. She helps leaders live stories worth telling — and then helps them tell them.
