I am working on writing a book. I have been working on it all summer, but then kind of stopped and let fear reside again in my heart. So many people are championing me in this area and encouraging me to write this story, and I am going to do it, and for the accountability, I am actually going to publish it here - maybe once a month or so I will publish the next chapter. I know most of you already know this story, but I hope you will give me grace. Hopefully I do not regret this. Here is the intro.
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To be a person is to have a story to tell.
—Isak Dinesen
What is a story but a dancing of letters mingling into words that swirl across a page? Or is it more? Is it the very breaths and moments that are gifted to us? The everyday rising and falling of the sun over our hours, our minutes – our seemingly mundane pages of life? Is it the brush strokes of letters, written by the pen of the Author of all, that color and illustrate the rhythm of our days?
It’s all of these and so much more, but we most embrace it, reach for it and, choose to see it. Perhaps, most importantly, we then must steward it well and tell it. For what good is a story if it is left unread – as untold as a secret locked deep away? A story untold is as a gift unopened and wasted. It is in the telling that we can truly see the story unfold as gloriously and beautifully as petals on a rose exposing its center beneath the sun.
Without eyes searching and willing to see the artistry being written over our lives, we can miss the sacred gift we are being given. Each day, each moment blends into the letters, then the words, which make up the chapters of our story. A story that is being written over our days by a loving, creative, all knowing God – the Author and finisher of life – of our story.
We’ve all been given a story. In some, it is harder to see the plot, the characters, and the chapters that cushion our souls. But it is there. The story is always there, always waiting to be brought to light. Your story, my story, our story is all being written by the Author of life. We just simply have to take the time to notice. Sometimes the hardest part though is not in the noticing, rather it comes when we have to give up the pen and make a choice to hand it over, because this story of our life can only be written by one Author.
A real, true story cannot be planned. It cannot be scripted or thought through. It cannot be outlined and organized. There is no editing, no erasing, and no skipping chapters. One cannot race to the ending to read the conclusion. It is just lived - daily – one moment crashing into another moment – until the marks that are left behind tell of Someone greater and point all the glory, all the fame, all the recognition back to Him. Because every story that has ever been written is from His pen and always concludes by whispering His name.
I have learned that I can no longer author my own journey – it must be scratched down for me by the hand of God. Sometimes that is immensely painful, to have no control over the events tidal waving over me, but in the end, after the plot crescendos and my heart is still, I can see that the story – every single word - has all been written in a breathtakingly beautiful way. A way that I never would have chosen. The ending is too good, too wonderful, too creative and brilliant for me to have ever crafted on my own.
And what I am about to share in the pages held between your hands is the single most life-altering chapter in my entire life story thus far. I bring this story humbly seeking no credit of my own, fully knowing it is not I who penned the story. I am simply the teller. For this story – like every story - needs to be told, but that is it....simply told – not embellished or written in order to receive praise. So I come to you with my palms open, ready to tell my story. That's it. That's all He has ever asked of me – to tell the story He has written over me. Nothing less, and nothing more.
I and my family are simply supporting characters in this story - the starring role was long ago reserved for my God, my Savior. For this is ultimately and completely His story, and I hold it loosely knowing who really holds the pen. I could never fully tell all that God has done to orchestrate bringing Jamesy into our family. There is no way that my finite mind can begin to even comprehend, in order to tell, the supernatural way that God joined our family together through this amazing, wonderful, painful, beautiful and humbling journey of adoption, but I hope that what I do tell solidly points to the Author. I give this story that He has written for me, back to Him – in its entirety. For it always has and always will be all about Him.
....and she took a deep breath and began to tell her story.
To be a person is to have a story to tell.
—Isak Dinesen
What is a story but a dancing of letters mingling into words that swirl across a page? Or is it more? Is it the very breaths and moments that are gifted to us? The everyday rising and falling of the sun over our hours, our minutes – our seemingly mundane pages of life? Is it the brush strokes of letters, written by the pen of the Author of all, that color and illustrate the rhythm of our days?
It’s all of these and so much more, but we most embrace it, reach for it and, choose to see it. Perhaps, most importantly, we then must steward it well and tell it. For what good is a story if it is left unread – as untold as a secret locked deep away? A story untold is as a gift unopened and wasted. It is in the telling that we can truly see the story unfold as gloriously and beautifully as petals on a rose exposing its center beneath the sun.
Without eyes searching and willing to see the artistry being written over our lives, we can miss the sacred gift we are being given. Each day, each moment blends into the letters, then the words, which make up the chapters of our story. A story that is being written over our days by a loving, creative, all knowing God – the Author and finisher of life – of our story.
We’ve all been given a story. In some, it is harder to see the plot, the characters, and the chapters that cushion our souls. But it is there. The story is always there, always waiting to be brought to light. Your story, my story, our story is all being written by the Author of life. We just simply have to take the time to notice. Sometimes the hardest part though is not in the noticing, rather it comes when we have to give up the pen and make a choice to hand it over, because this story of our life can only be written by one Author.
A real, true story cannot be planned. It cannot be scripted or thought through. It cannot be outlined and organized. There is no editing, no erasing, and no skipping chapters. One cannot race to the ending to read the conclusion. It is just lived - daily – one moment crashing into another moment – until the marks that are left behind tell of Someone greater and point all the glory, all the fame, all the recognition back to Him. Because every story that has ever been written is from His pen and always concludes by whispering His name.
I have learned that I can no longer author my own journey – it must be scratched down for me by the hand of God. Sometimes that is immensely painful, to have no control over the events tidal waving over me, but in the end, after the plot crescendos and my heart is still, I can see that the story – every single word - has all been written in a breathtakingly beautiful way. A way that I never would have chosen. The ending is too good, too wonderful, too creative and brilliant for me to have ever crafted on my own.
And what I am about to share in the pages held between your hands is the single most life-altering chapter in my entire life story thus far. I bring this story humbly seeking no credit of my own, fully knowing it is not I who penned the story. I am simply the teller. For this story – like every story - needs to be told, but that is it....simply told – not embellished or written in order to receive praise. So I come to you with my palms open, ready to tell my story. That's it. That's all He has ever asked of me – to tell the story He has written over me. Nothing less, and nothing more.
I and my family are simply supporting characters in this story - the starring role was long ago reserved for my God, my Savior. For this is ultimately and completely His story, and I hold it loosely knowing who really holds the pen. I could never fully tell all that God has done to orchestrate bringing Jamesy into our family. There is no way that my finite mind can begin to even comprehend, in order to tell, the supernatural way that God joined our family together through this amazing, wonderful, painful, beautiful and humbling journey of adoption, but I hope that what I do tell solidly points to the Author. I give this story that He has written for me, back to Him – in its entirety. For it always has and always will be all about Him.
....and she took a deep breath and began to tell her story.
Addis Ababa Time
1 comments:
Tiffany, these are breathtakingly beautiful thoughts... best wishes to you on finishing your book!
Merry Christmas!
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