Formed by Stories, Revealed by Stories

We tell ourselves stories. We recite the stories of our past. We day dream stories of our future-selves or reweave the selves of our past. The stories inspire us, give shape to a vision of our future and at times imprison us in recounting actions done or not done by us or to us.

The problem with these stories is that they tend to put us at the center of the plot, hero or villain, cherished or reviled. These stories form us as they reveal where our hopes and fears lie. They tell us who we must be to be great, loved and happy. Also told are the alternate worlds where we make missteps that deliver to us a world of shame.

But maybe all these stories are telling us lies about the way things are.

Let’s start this story over…there is a God who says He is my Father. He teaches me to call Him “Daddy” and to engage Him in conversation. He knows me, even the parts I’d hide if I could…(you fill in the next part of your story as a daughter/son of God)

The Pleasure of Being Known & Loved

God didn’t have to make us His children after justifying us. Even after adopting us, He didn’t have to give us His spirit that would call out to Him, “Abba”.

It seems like what one might do when things are good and our hearts are joyous, but it seems He is just as interested to hear us when we are groaning. At a time when words to express our pain are difficult to come by, His spirit helps
us groan what is otherwise inexpressible.

It seems intimacy is extremely important to Dad. So important that He loves us by showing us the extent to which He has gone to give us confidence that He knows us and what we are going through.