We are all walking stories, this world a diverse library
stuffed with living books of all kinds. Some of our stories exalt the Author; others despise Him. Human history is full of stories rich and complex or insipid and superficial. An air of mystery may permeate the plot line of one person's novel, while the trajectory of another's may be plain for all to see.
I often think about this when my path briefly crosses
that of another, two stories that pass each other by. And I marvel at marriage, the intertwining of
two stories such that they become one, even while retaining the uniqueness of
each individual's chapters.
Recently someone posted on Facebook a short video taken
of an older woman stealing rhubarb in a garden and cursing continually at the
bystander who confronted her. Her voice
was guttural and harsh, her mien violent, her manner rude. I felt inexpressibly sad as I contemplated
her story. What events and people had
brought her to this pass in life? Did
she learn such language because that was the way she was spoken to? When and how did stealing become the order of
the day for her? Was she ever someone's
sweet little daughter or had she been from the beginning unwanted and
neglected, cursed at and cast away? I
was curious and yet I would have been afraid to read her story. Who can stand to know all the misery,
heartache and sin that abides in our skins between the covers of our books?
There is only One who is not afraid to enter such
darkness because He cannot be enveloped by it.
He casts light wherever He goes.
When He enters a story, its trajectory is permanently changed. He entered into the ugliness of my story and
made it beautiful. He can do the same
for that woman. He can do the same for
you.
The light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness has not overcome it
John 1:5
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