Why you don’t have to fear how the story turns out
In the early morning’s hour, I awaken. Outside, it’s bitter cold, scarce fit for man or beast. Tucked beneath the covers, my body is still, but my mind begins to roam. What is it about the dark? In the blackness, fear-kernels that seem small, benign, can explode like seeds of corn a-poppin’. And all at once, it morphs into a monster, tentacles reaching from under my bed…
It’s Saturday morning. Doggone it all, I’d rather be sleeping, but like a deep-sea diver rising slowly from ocean’s floor, my busy brain is wakin’ up. And there goes my colorful imagination.
For seven years, I wrote a weekly column called “Grounds for Insanity.” In the pages of our paper, I entertained thousands of readers who watched for that Monday edition, eager to see what the tribe was up to now. “How do you come up with all your material?” folks would say.
I would laugh. “I just live with funny people and tell what they do.” This, as Mr. Schrock would roll his eyes clear up to the whites, and there went his world-class piffle.
A good imagination was great for the tellin’ of stories, but, as I’d say to the Mister, “It’s not always a blessing to have such a vivid imagination. I can have the worst-case scenario written, edited, published and on bookshelves before you can say ‘jimmy crack corn, and I don’t even care.’” And there’d come that world class piff.
Anyway, so there I was, my curly head all snugged on my flannel-covered pillow, and there went my thoughts. Down a road called Fear with a little detour, name of Dread. Before I could journey too far down that lane full of potholes, though, the Holy Spirit, He tapped me right there. And so I said, “Jesus, what do you want me to know about this?”
And that quick, and that kind, and with no scolding in the darkness of my room, Jesus said, “That I will be in his story.”
Aha. Yes! His story. That He would be in it. That He would be with the one I was thinkin’ on. For as long as ever he would live.
So all day today, as I’ve been doin’ my Saturday chores, that’s been in my head. “I will be in his story.”
In his story. No matter what can come, He’ll be there. Down that road I was imagining. In the future, there He is.
His story. His-story. History, and Jesus writin’ it…
What I think that God is wantin’ me to tell you is that this is true for you, too. And those you love. And here’s how I think that it works.
Any single, horrid, hard, painful, unpleasant thing that your unsanctified imagination can conjure up, or any single, horrid–you know, difficult thing that you’re goin’ through right now, He will be in it. He IS in it with you.
With you! It’s your story, yes, but it’s HIS story, too, and if Jesus is present, all is well.
There may be great pain or hardship. He’ll be there.
You may suffer wrong or devastation. He’ll be there.
Someone you love may be runnin’ long and hard, but if you are a-prayin’, He is there. Writin’ the story.
Writin’ mine. Writin’ yours. Writin’ fresh chapters for the ones that you love.
You may be scared of how the story turns out. Don’t be! For Jesus is in it to redeem. Jesus is in it to give hope and a future. Jesus turns water into wine, finds lost sheep.
Jesus, my friend, is in your story, and when Jesus is there, you’ll make history. His-story.
His story! And that is a wonder-full thing.
The alarm sounds. I stir from my bed. The sun, it is rising. Ah, the Son, He has risen, and the fear, in Son’s light, disappears. Monster’s gone. Jesus is here in my story, and all’s well.