Stories

I think one of the reasons we love books so much, even if all of our favorite characters die or don’t get the sort of happy ending we hoped for-for them, is that books are certain. Stories are definite. Life, on the other hand, is such an open-ended, confusing place, that I find myself questioning everything. In a story, even if everything falls apart and it seems everyone looses everything, there’s a sweetness in the certainty and closure. It’s written there in print, and there’s a peace in being able to take it all in, and know that what’s done is done and that’s it. Life, however, makes you keep on going, persevere in ambivalence that is down-right painful at times. It’s the having to live out the story that hurts so much.

²³ …we also groan within ourselves, eagerly waiting for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. ²⁴ Now in this hope we were saved, yet hope that is seen is not hope, because who hopes for what he sees? ²⁵ But if we hope for what we do not see, we eagerly wait for it with patience. Rom 8:23-25

 ³ And not only that, but we also rejoice in our afflictions, because we know that affliction produces endurance, ⁴ endurance produces proven character, and proven character produces hope. ⁵ This hope will not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured out in our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us. Rom 5:3-5

Heavenly Father, bless us with the trust to walk with you as shepherd, to trust in your goodness, even as we cannot see the end.