The Gift of a Story
There's a book that goes almost everywhere with me. The pink cover is decorated with textured swirls and a brown pleather stripe; my name is embossed on it in shiny silver letters. Its life of travel is evident by the way the edges are slowly turning gray, some pages more crinkled that they were previously. They testify to a life of getting packed in purses and backpacks and thumbed through around campfires and in classrooms. It's a book that brings so much peace and joy, yet one I do not love nearly enough.
Open it up and you'll find many stories.
There's the story of my life as told through the mementoes tucked into the pages. A paper crown from a Christmas cracker. A letter from a dear woman of God written after she prayed for me. A notecard full of all of the InterVarsity announcements I presented sometime months ago. A square with Ephesians 2:10 printed on bright green card stock, passed out at church to remind us that we are, most definitely, God's masterpiece. An index card that I challenged myself to fill out with a list of who God defines me as in Scripture. A ticket to dinner at Medieval Times. A paper dress who incorporates how to clothe myself with compassion, kindness, humility, self-control, and patience into its design. Notes from a Bible study. A copy of the four circles diagram, in case I ever need a visual to help explain the Gospel. Old church bulletins. Last semester's evangelism station script. And a bookmark to hold my "place."
There's the story of my life as told through my interaction with the text. Post-it notes with questions to myself haphazardly written across them litter the pages, some answered, some not. Places I'd marked to memorize. Places I'd marked to share with someone else. Stories bookmarked so I could get to them quickly while preaching, teaching, studying. There are the lines I'd underlined, lines I'd needed on so many days in so many places, in joy and sorrow. "Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." "I desire to do your will, my God; your law is within my heart." "Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him." "'I am the Lord's servant,' Mary answered. 'May your word to me be fulfilled.'" "Few things are needed--or indeed only one." "For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost." "I am the way and the truth and the life." "Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death." "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!" "I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me." "Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see." Dates written next to passages to remember they were significant, even if I can't remember exactly why: February 2, 2013. August 18, 2013. November 15, 2012. Words scratched in margins that echoed in my soul: I am set free. Praise leads to joy. If you want to walk on water, you have to get out of the boat. It is the story of my heart's journey towards another's.
And then, then there's the story told through the words on the page. The story of a God who lovingly created a gorgeous, magnificent, unique and enthralling world. The story of a creation who rebelled against Him, and continued to do so time and time again. The story of a God who relentlessly pursued His people... time and time again. The story of a God who loved so, so much that He couldn't bear the distance between His people and their Father, so he sent His Son to bridge the gap. The story of a baby boy born to ordinary parents in an ordinary old manger in an ordinary old village in what became a not-so-ordinary time. The story of a young man who grows up to challenge the traditional ways of faith and open up deeply personal ways in which to connect to God. The story of a man who, crucified though innocent, willingly chose to die for our rebellion and salvation. The story of a man who didn't stay dead, who refuses to let us stay dead, either. It's a story of redemption. A story of forgiveness. A story of grace. Of mercy.
A story of a gift bigger and better than we could ever understand.
From where I'm sitting right now, I find myself increasingly thankful for the gift of a story. I'm thankful for the truth in the story of Christ's life. I'm so thankful, too, for the gift of His story intersecting with mine. My favorite name in the Bible is Immanuel. It means God with us. I am profoundly moved by the fact that Christ came to dwell with us on this planet; it makes it so much easier to talk to him when I realize he understands. The story of Immanuel doesn't stop with the baby in the manger, however. It doesn't stop with a man on a cross. Christ is still Immanuel, so His story continues with me. It continues in the ways that He changes me. It continues in the way He moves in me. It will, hopefully, continue in the legacy that I leave. My story has forever been changed by Jesus; he took my outline and completely rewrote the scenes. I like that gift.
I purposefully didn't publish this post on Christmas. So often it's easy for me to reflect and be grateful for Jesus' work in my life during the holidays, but I don't want that to end just because they're over. While there are many changes that occur December 26th that I look forward to (K-LOVE will stop playing Christmas music 24/7. Hallelujah!), I don't want to box up the message of the season with all my gifts and used wrapping paper. Jesus's entry into this world was earth-changing, then and now, but you know what? I want to be struck by the significance of this on a random Thursday, not just because it's December. I want to remember the gift of my story and the gift of Christ's simply because they are worth remembering. They're worth sharing. That's not a Christmas-time thing. That's an every time thing, and I want to do it.
So merry Christmas, everyone--364 days early and exactly on time.
Open it up and you'll find many stories.
There's the story of my life as told through the mementoes tucked into the pages. A paper crown from a Christmas cracker. A letter from a dear woman of God written after she prayed for me. A notecard full of all of the InterVarsity announcements I presented sometime months ago. A square with Ephesians 2:10 printed on bright green card stock, passed out at church to remind us that we are, most definitely, God's masterpiece. An index card that I challenged myself to fill out with a list of who God defines me as in Scripture. A ticket to dinner at Medieval Times. A paper dress who incorporates how to clothe myself with compassion, kindness, humility, self-control, and patience into its design. Notes from a Bible study. A copy of the four circles diagram, in case I ever need a visual to help explain the Gospel. Old church bulletins. Last semester's evangelism station script. And a bookmark to hold my "place."
There's the story of my life as told through my interaction with the text. Post-it notes with questions to myself haphazardly written across them litter the pages, some answered, some not. Places I'd marked to memorize. Places I'd marked to share with someone else. Stories bookmarked so I could get to them quickly while preaching, teaching, studying. There are the lines I'd underlined, lines I'd needed on so many days in so many places, in joy and sorrow. "Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." "I desire to do your will, my God; your law is within my heart." "Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him." "'I am the Lord's servant,' Mary answered. 'May your word to me be fulfilled.'" "Few things are needed--or indeed only one." "For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost." "I am the way and the truth and the life." "Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death." "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!" "I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me." "Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see." Dates written next to passages to remember they were significant, even if I can't remember exactly why: February 2, 2013. August 18, 2013. November 15, 2012. Words scratched in margins that echoed in my soul: I am set free. Praise leads to joy. If you want to walk on water, you have to get out of the boat. It is the story of my heart's journey towards another's.
And then, then there's the story told through the words on the page. The story of a God who lovingly created a gorgeous, magnificent, unique and enthralling world. The story of a creation who rebelled against Him, and continued to do so time and time again. The story of a God who relentlessly pursued His people... time and time again. The story of a God who loved so, so much that He couldn't bear the distance between His people and their Father, so he sent His Son to bridge the gap. The story of a baby boy born to ordinary parents in an ordinary old manger in an ordinary old village in what became a not-so-ordinary time. The story of a young man who grows up to challenge the traditional ways of faith and open up deeply personal ways in which to connect to God. The story of a man who, crucified though innocent, willingly chose to die for our rebellion and salvation. The story of a man who didn't stay dead, who refuses to let us stay dead, either. It's a story of redemption. A story of forgiveness. A story of grace. Of mercy.
A story of a gift bigger and better than we could ever understand.
From where I'm sitting right now, I find myself increasingly thankful for the gift of a story. I'm thankful for the truth in the story of Christ's life. I'm so thankful, too, for the gift of His story intersecting with mine. My favorite name in the Bible is Immanuel. It means God with us. I am profoundly moved by the fact that Christ came to dwell with us on this planet; it makes it so much easier to talk to him when I realize he understands. The story of Immanuel doesn't stop with the baby in the manger, however. It doesn't stop with a man on a cross. Christ is still Immanuel, so His story continues with me. It continues in the ways that He changes me. It continues in the way He moves in me. It will, hopefully, continue in the legacy that I leave. My story has forever been changed by Jesus; he took my outline and completely rewrote the scenes. I like that gift.
I purposefully didn't publish this post on Christmas. So often it's easy for me to reflect and be grateful for Jesus' work in my life during the holidays, but I don't want that to end just because they're over. While there are many changes that occur December 26th that I look forward to (K-LOVE will stop playing Christmas music 24/7. Hallelujah!), I don't want to box up the message of the season with all my gifts and used wrapping paper. Jesus's entry into this world was earth-changing, then and now, but you know what? I want to be struck by the significance of this on a random Thursday, not just because it's December. I want to remember the gift of my story and the gift of Christ's simply because they are worth remembering. They're worth sharing. That's not a Christmas-time thing. That's an every time thing, and I want to do it.
So merry Christmas, everyone--364 days early and exactly on time.
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