Your Story
I think we are story-tellers by nature. I like to imagine that the cave drawings were the backdrop to the story-teller and that maybe they would point to emphasize but it was the words they spoke that weaved the tale that needed to be told. And, sure, maybe it was for practically purposes like telling the little ones not to just wander off so they didn’t get eaten. But. Maybe it’s was to tell all the little ones not to wander off so they don’t get eaten. Maybe we all need that. Like. All. The. Time. Stories to help us not wander off and get eaten.
When you feel your way through the world, often with written words as your only cloak, and I believe there are not many people that are both gifted with written word and spoken word-, it’s like you either do one or the other well. Sure you can prove me wrong, but this is my blog and the point I’m making is if I could just write all the things than everything would be a lot better. But. Alas, I have to speak also. To actual people. A lot.
I once had a mentor tell me to try going to a Toastmasters. I still haven’t. I’d rather jab a fork into my eye. Or drink a gallon of hot sauce. Occasionally I have read a poem or something, but it was clear that I was nervous and I just don’t have that public-speaking gene. (And again, I know you public speakers who believe everyone can do it are just dying to send me an email. Fine. Please do. Don’t call though, I don’t want to talk to you. Also, I can’t whistle. Try to teach me, you may just finally be the one!)
Maybe this happens to everyone, maybe it’s just me, or some variation in between; but I feel like I often get to hear/see/read the story that I need to just when I need to. I once heard a friend talking about this concept of needing to make some major life decision. She described that it seemed the same message was absolutely everywhere, like on the side of busses, at her church out of the pastor’s mouth, and then finally she went to a church in another country with a foreign language that she didn’t know. The pastor-person only translated one part into English and it was the same message that had been haunting her and her husband. Laughing she concluded that our God is a persistent sort.
I think that is because our God is a story-teller and put that little golden soul-nugget in each of us. And sometimes if we don’t hear the story He has for us than it’s like in Harry Potter when the Dursleys aren’t getting the entrance-to-magic-school letter and suddenly their fireplace is vomiting a billion of the letters all over their house. Now, sure, not all of us actually write the stories. Certainly I don’t speak them well at all. Maybe some paint them. Maybe they re-build old cars caressing each bumper or something. Maybe they play the violin in such a way involuntary tears pour from your eyes. Maybe there are as varied ways to tell stories as there are to exist on this big, beautiful and bewildering planet.
In some cultures telling stories is a holy thing. Heck, maybe in most actually it is- just that looks different in different places. I’m a person that goes to church every Sunday and isn’t the pastor/priest/rector/preacher/rabbi telling a story? Usually from or based of a giant book of stories? (Now before you send me more nasty emails, I believe the Bible is the Word of God and Holy and all of that….) I also believe that stories can be holy things. And scary things. And all kinds of things. Maybe not all need to be told. Maybe some will save your life if they are told. Maybe more, lots and lots more, NEED to be told. Maybe some are like the probably hundreds of duds and false starts I have stored on my ipad. But every now and then I don’t just pour out a whole new thing, I go back to that file and resurrect an old paragraph and suddenly right then is the time to write that ‘whatever’ story.
My experience is the one I know best, not to be totally self-centered it just is what it is. My best friend and love of my life - my dear husband- knows me best but (blessedly for him I’m sure- as my daughter says I’m ‘extra’) there are times that I’m away at work and he’s just not here for every moment of my existence. But God is. My experience with the public writing that I do is that very often it just pours out of me. Not a lot of editing goes into, and for that I am sincerely sorry, and very frequently I feel the urge to post something at a specific time. Not often do I know why, specifically. Every now and then though someone will come tell me how much something meant to them that I wrote.
Y’all. I think our Good and Holy God orchestrates all of this. Like a very skilled conductor not just conducting at a concert where he/she/they get to stand in one solid place. But like, a conductor who is managing a flash mob of a giant marching band. And it is organized chaos. There are just folks everywhere, trumpets in one section, drums in another and the orchestrator (let’s just call him dude since I’m basing this off an actual video that I’m watching as I type this) the orchestrator/leader dude just seamlessly surfs that chaos with slight flicks of his wrist giving instructions to the musicians. But God is doing it simultaneously around the entire world, maybe in different dimensions, probably with just one hand and His eyes closed.
I’m not trying to say that it’s all perfect. Cause, clearly, it is not. My daughter keeps quoting this cartoon her and her friends talk about that shows the alien ship coming to our world and broadcasting a message ‘we are here to rule’ or something like that. The punch-line is that crowd of folks in the cartoon are like: ‘OH THANK GOD!’ And it’s this sad sort of thing. That we are actually wanting aliens to come and rule over us, because, well it can’t get any worse. And it’s not a joke that’s funny at all. I think, or hope, that most people feel this sort of tension with - is this really all there is? Why is everything so hard, or so messed up? Why is there so much violence and just general ‘bad’?
Other than belief in a God that knows you and saves you I don’t really have a lot of answers here. But lately I have been enjoying reading and writing stories to just, frankly, escape. There are times though that a really good one that hits hard or is just what I need to hear/read/see just when I need it; and I am spurred on to something deeper, truer and holier. I used to call them ‘golden-eternal’ moments. I was convinced they were little snippets of heaven coming down. And, maybe they are. Maybe heaven is within us already. If that’s blasphemous, um, oops? (Again, email…. But wait, if you got mad already you probably stopped reading and/or maybe I don’t wanna get an email from you after all.) Maybe our God knows what we need and when we need and HOW we need it best. So maybe, just maybe, if we would just trust Him a teeny bit more, maybe we could receive the story we need to receive just when we need to.
And personally, the hero of my story is not me. It is my Lord Jesus Christ who is also weirdly my God and somehow this ethereal Spirit that simply has to be a SHE. My Eternal They whom I love and have been for me my whole life. I don’t get it entirely, but, I also totally do like down to my marrow. So again, if we could just trust Him/SHE/They a bit more. A mustard seed would do it even, or so I’ve heard. Those suckers are small too. Like I don’t want to sneeze because I’ll accidentally inhale it and make some ER doctor’s ‘weird stuff this week’ board.
But you do you, boo. I’m not really good at arguing you into a faith, and I’m really hoping there’s a lot more Grace for everyone at the end of this existence, but that’s just my eternal optimism shining forth. If your story is turning into a horror, thriller or a grief-diary and you just need someone to sit with you. That I can do. Call me. If you need someone to toast you at your wedding or silver anniversary my dear husband has a voice like butter and also sounds exactly like Barry White. It is your story. If your hero is you that is perfectly alright. But if your story is not working for you, it is YOUR story. Change it. Own it. Maybe start with reading it, whatever that looks like? I think it’s entirely possible we can go through stuff that disconnects us for whatever reason and we get to a place where we don’t even know ourselves.
You know who does know us though? God. Seriously. One of my all-time favorite songs is by Waterdeep and it’s called ‘Completely Known.’ I like it for the poetry and story-telling, for sure, but the final verse is about just that- about how there is only One and it is NOT us- that can completely know us. I think it stands to reason then that there is only One that can also show us. Like the TV show ‘See’ that has a world full of blind people and these two kids that can see. There was One that came down here on his own, became a baby, and has been showing us all kinds of lovely and holy things for 2000 years. And he knows us so well that he knows exactly what we need, which story will be the most help at the right time. I call him Jesus, but, you do you. Now I’m going to go watch Completely Known and then the backyard concert that came out during Covid- see- not all bad came from that horrible time period. Remember when we sat in backyards for concerts? That’s where I’ll be, in a backyard with some TV friends. Goodnight, dear one, enjoy your story. It is yours.
https://youtu.be/xT5EZWZ-94k?si=mBHp_dnVTUsFEU1O
https://youtu.be/hibH7g1j4TQ?si=VTAPpqil76TcnEne
(You’re welcome. I don’t have permission, but I’m hoping Waterdeep contacts me - no need to sue, I’ll take it down just want to say ‘hi’ cause it’s been like twenty-five years since I’ve seen them play in person. Also sorry this is so long, man if you are still here those nine months of no posts really did you dirty, sorry I was going through a dark patch. )
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