Drops Of Inspiration

Every Story Matters- May 2017

As usual, these words sprang to me out of nowhere.  Well really, they came from God, but they came at a time when I completely unexpected them.  And then I just started writing and couldn't stop because so many ideas were weaving themselves all into one, and somehow by His masterful hand He was able to write this using my hands.  He is writing a piece of His story by letting me write mine....and really, that's what this analogy is about. :)

The story of my life is one that isn't well known, yet everyone knows it well. Every morning I wake up, I choose to keep breathing, I do the things that I need to do, and I go to sleep. My story is like everyone else's, and everyone else's stories are like mine. Yet many of our stories are completely different, with different motivations to wake up, and different reasons to keep breathing, and different things to do, and different ways that we go to sleep. No matter what similarities or what differences there are, and no matter how big or how little it may seem, every single person has a story of their life. Just like every person matters, every story matters.

There's only one problem that occurs in all of this that is vital to a story.

Your life will never be a story if you choose not to tell it.

Maybe you are struggling with finding a way to start- the beginning from which everything else in your life is rooted from. My life personally started in a loving home, with two loving parents and a secure place to live. I grew up as an adventurous child, with wide discovering eyes taking in every little detail, accompanied with uncontainable laughter bubbling from my young heart. I was smart, I was hard-working, I was loved, and I had all the confidence I could ever have in myself, with no doubt that life wasn't anything but beautiful. Maybe your story starts in a lot of the same way as mine.

But it is quite possible that yours started quite differently. Maybe you were born into a life of living on the streets, always wanting more and never having enough. Maybe there were people that didn't treasure you as a blessing and treated you poorly. Maybe conflicts started early on in your life, which caused you to grow up at too soon of an age. Maybe you were the one who saw me at the playground, watching as I soared as high as I could into the sky and smiled in pure bliss. Though I saw that I was going higher and higher, maybe all you saw was that no matter how high I got, I would always go down in the end.

I'm not saying that life was easy for me. As I got older, I soon started learning the truth about the world. I was in my fantastical bubble, soaring high above the world and seeing the beautiful swirls mix in with the beauty beyond them. But then all too soon, but also far too late, my bubble hit a tree branch and my world was instantly popped. I suddenly was falling, hitting branch after branch, receiving bruise after bruise, wondering what in the world my life was coming to. And then I landed on the hard ground, looking far up into the sky, never wanting to get back up to try and go there again. It just seemed so far, so hard....so pointless.

Maybe then you saw me, lying on the ground, smirking as you saw me being grasped into the reality of the real world. Maybe you saw that while I was thinking life was completely unfair, it was completely fair to you that my life was now just as unfair as yours.

Life.

The concept of life became fully known to me then, because some things you can never fully grasp until you realize the opposite of it.

Death.

The word sent newfound shivers down my spine, causing my body to tremble and my heart rate to speed faster than ever. But for you, it was the hardened reality that no matter what, it would overtake you and be the end of you.

While I had never discovered death, you had never discovered life.

The ground started to shake, and a roar pierced the air, signaling that death was certainly on its way. At first, I was ready to give up...to give in...to give my life over to the one who would snatch it from me without mercy. But as I gazed up, I saw the tree that I had fallen through- the one that had caused my world to become much more real- and I suddenly saw the life pouring out from it, like fresh water pouring from an overflowing fountain. The leaves waving in a graceful dance orchestrated by the gentle breeze. The strong, sturdy trunk that connected all the branches and allowed it to withstand against the storms and trials of darkness.

The remembrance of two nail-borne hands fastened securely to the arms of a tree.

Life. Life from the depths of death itself.

You watched in shock as I leaped up from the ground, my posture sturdy on the shaking ground and my eyes wide in determination as I looked around for the way out. And then, just when you were about to run and abandon me, you froze instantly when my eyes met yours through the darkness. You froze like stone, numb, not wanting to be able to feel the pain of death's sting. But your walls were cracking from my piercing gaze, unwillingly letting into your heart what you saw in my eyes.

Light.

You had never experienced such a thing that suddenly allowed you to see everything clearly. That we were here, in real time, frozen in the climax of our story. And for the first time, you saw that your story mattered- that you cared about how it would end.

Life is acting on the hope that you can create a story that is worth telling.

You ran forward- towards me and towards the light- not knowing what you were about to experience, but knowing it would be much better than dying in the darkness.

I grabbed your hand, uniting the two of us like puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together. Then others saw the hope that we had and joined hands, fitting together as the scattered pieces of broken lives finally came together and were made complete by the wholeness of becoming the big picture He has created us to be. Together we ran toward the bases of the trees around us, panting for breath, and together we climbed higher and higher as the pounding of incoming death filled our ears. But we were no longer fearful, because in our hearts had been enlightened the spark of love.

And His perfect, undying love casts out all fear from our hearts.

The eyes of death were blinded by the light in our own, and it was forced to swerve and avoid the trees as we kept climbing and pressing on. Higher and higher we rose, persevering to make it to the top. You weren't used to the effort of living out your life, as was I, but together we held each other up and supported each other as we made our way to the top.

Soon, we made it all the way to the very branch where I had fallen from, the bubble residue still tangible on the branch. I slid down the branch and beckoned you to join me, taking your hand and watching your eyes fill with wonder at the sight of the world above the darkness. If a world could have so much death, then much more could it have life.

Life.

Life is striving to climb even higher every time that you fall down.

And looking up into the branches above, I knew that the story of my life had a lot more pages for Him to write.

"What about your story?" I asked.

You turned to me, your eyes looking down in shame the second they met with mine. "My story isn't worth telling. It's just like everyone else's, so it doesn't matter at all."

I squeezed your hand, and with my other hand tilted your face up to look directly at mine. "Your story matters, just like my story matters, and just like every story matters. There would be a puzzle piece missing if you decided to keep your story a secret, and then His story wouldn't be complete."

You looked at me in confusion, wondering whom the He that I was referring to was. Even in your wildest dreams, you had never imagined that you would matter at all to be a part of someone else's story.

Smiling softly, I pulled my hand away from your face and reached into my pocket. Clasped in it was a small, yet invaluable book, with eight letters on the front that clearly said, "The Bible."

But your heart read it another way, and you couldn't help but smile for the first time in your life as unexplainable joy suddenly urged you to read it as excitedly as a little child.

Because "His Story" is for all of His beloved children to take part in.