EVERY GREAT STORY

(Post by: Madie Hobbs)

Sometimes it’s hard to remember that amid all our lasts, there can still be better firsts, isn’t it?

I find myself looking back on a previous year full of lasts I didn’t know were lasts, which makes them even more tender in my memory. All of them took place in such rapid succession I find it hard to truly believe there will ever be any firsts that can help me look back on those lasts with fondness rather than pain.

I experienced my last 24-hour prayer vigil in the way it has been done my entire life with my friends that we all take part in together every year.

I sat through my last Sunday school class with a group of people that have watched me grow up and played a pivotal part in shaping me into the person I am today.

I saw people the way I had always seen them for the last time before they made foolhardy decisions that have changed my family’s life forever.

I gave Ruby, our family dog, her medicine I had given her every night for many years for the last time one miserable night in December.

I celebrated my last “childhood” birthday before becoming an adult.

I took my last class at my dream college.

And after all this and more, I will be honest dear reader, I find it dreadfully hard to continue pushing forward in pursuit of firsts. I find myself no longer wanting them, because I feel they will always turn to lasts, no matter how tightly I hold them. I find myself sitting under a night sky, terrified, because I cannot see the stars.

There are moments, you see, in grief, where it rolls over you so suddenly you wonder how you were standing still, carrying on as you always have done, just a second ago. The tears prick your eyes so quickly they sting, the physical weight of your sadness rests more prominently on your shoulders, and you wonder if anything will ever happen again.

You stand for a moment, and you wonder, how did I get here? How did my life go from this to that right before my eyes? There are days where you still can’t believe it, or you forget the last thing has happened for the last time. Your ears trick you into believing you can still hear the jingle of dog tags hanging from a red and black checkered collar. Your mind still asks you what you’ll wear to church in the morning, because someone is always a little overzealous with the air conditioning. You wonder how many people will be in Sunday school that morning since this person and that person are on vacation or visiting family.

Then you remember, and the final question hits you, in the middle of a busy sidewalk on a sunny day, when everything looks so black.

Can God ever do anything with all this ever again?

How can He be the same when everything about me has changed so much? What can He do with me now that I feel jaded, and oh so very tired?

But then he asks me in return, “Child, is this not the premise to every great story I have ever penned?”

Even now, as I sit in front of this dimly lit computer screen, crying again (because I seem to do that at the drop of a hat these days), at 2:00 in the morning, I am reminded of a song we listened to several times at that last prayer vigil I spoke of that perfectly conveys this very truth.

The lyrics say,

And oh my soul

Remember who you’re talking to

The only One who death bows to

That’s the God who walks with you

And oh my soul

You know that if He did it then

He can do it all again

His power can still raise the dead

Don’t tell me that He’s finished yet

(Remember by Brian and Katie Torwalt)

When I sat down to write this post, I didn’t know where I was going with it. Honestly, I still don’t.

The only thing the Lord is prompting me to say, is that He can craft so many firsts out of our dismal lasts. We must simply remember that as we cry out with our questions, and as we wrestle with what lies ahead, we speak to the only One the destruction and grief in our life bows to.

Where we see endings, He sees epilogues.

He sees pages stretching before us with new firsts, new things we have yet to glorify Him for, waiting for us to turn to them. He sees new chapters, new worlds, and new characters all waiting patiently for their turn on the stage of our lives.

Even though some of them may one day come to an end, we have a God who is absolutely not finished yet.

Every great story begins with a character broken by the circumstances of their life, who looks to something greater than themselves for rescue.

I think it’s time we start behaving like the main characters of our own stories. We’re in the hands of an Author who happens to love happy endings.

SO, WHAT IS YOUR RESPONSE?

= Are you currently walking through a season of grief and hardship?

= How can we pray for you?

= What are you going to do differently?