My Story so far…
I have always loved a good story, from as far back as I can remember, listening to, and reading stories has been part of my life. My father was a good story teller and had quite a variety not only from his own life, but also tales from previous generations. Indeed, one of the first stories I remember was one made up by my grandfather about a farmer, Mr Diddle Doddle, and his wife Mrs Diddle Doddle, their trip to market in a pony and trap, and his fight to save his chickens from a fox. The first story I remember really reading for myself involved a mole leaving his home in spring and coming across a rat by a river bank who became his friend, and they embarked on an adventure with a badger and toad, battling weasels. “Wind in the Willows” is still a favourite of mine.
Since then I have read, listened to, and indeed watched thousands of stories, but the one which has endured through the years in my life is God’s story, although when I first read it I had no idea really what it was all about. We had scripture lessons at school which were taught in much the way history was taught, and although I liked the stories, I hardly saw how they held any relevance to my life. It isn’t even that I disbelieved them, I just didn’t pay much attention to them as they and the God behind them seemed so far removed from my story.
As my life unfolded, I, like all of us, experienced good stories and not so good, some exciting and some boring. Some were influenced by outside forces of circumstances and people I had little control over, and I could thank or curse them for their impact, but of course many came from my own hand on the pen and there was no one to blame when the script went badly but me.
About thirty year ago I really began to evaluate my story so far. It’s easy to live from week to week, story to story and not connect them all together, like some variety show where the curtain rises for each new act, but then when the segment is over, down comes the curtain again and focus quickly shifts to next on the bill. At its core my story felt empty. Yes, there was plenty of action on the outside, but inside it was hollow and meaningless. What was the point of my story? I needed a better story, a bigger story, but seemed incapable of achieving it myself. It was then that I began reexamining God’s story. To start with it seemed just as I had left it; distant and far removed, with a God who is so holy and transcendent, and cannot stand people who don’t live up to his standards. If He felt detached when I was younger, he must be even further removed from me now that I have many decidedly unholy stories in my portfolio. But then I began to reread the story of Jesus, and how, far from being disconnected from this world He came and lived in it, God in the flesh living as one of His creation. Why? Because God loves people, and Jesus is the ultimate sign of just how much. It is an amazing story, and as I read it I began to see how this is God’s story from the very beginning. But how could my broken story be part of His perfect story? How could I ever make my story good enough? Go to church every Sunday and take communion? How much would my story need to improve to get me in?
The beauty of Jesus’ story is He didn’t come for people who have perfect stories, not that there is any such person, but for people like me who have stories of brokenness and can’t live up to God’s. But the good news is we don’t have to, Jesus has done it for us. Through faith in who He says He is, the Son of God, and in what He has done, His life, death, burial and resurrection He takes away our bad narrative and replaces it with His perfect one.
My story changed when Jesus met me. Not that there haven’t been hard and difficult parts to it, there have, in fact some of the darkest times of my life have taken place since then, but now all the segments of my story find cohesion and purpose in Jesus. What’s more my story is leading somewhere, to an eternal future and hope in Jesus Christ.
I still love a good story, and I am fortunate in my life to hear and experience many kinds, but as I reflect on them through the light of God’s story, they take on a different hue.