STORIES

“Look Mom, look at his tail! He’s my best friend”

No reaction.

“His tail! Look! I like him. He’s my best friend because Dylan isn’t any more”

Still nothing.

“He’s beautiful and he’s my best friend because Dylan’s a traitor”

This time, the eight year old with big brown eyes, wonky bangs and teeth she’ll ‘grow into’ very clearly made eye contact and invited me into this dialogue about the 5’6” mosaic manatee statue that marked the best spot along the river to watch out for the real, living version it was modeled on.

I accepted her invitation.

“He’s beautiful for sure. And I’m sorry about Dylan. I guess you guys had a falling out”

“No, she moved away. Traitor”

Mom, clearly used to where this had been going all along, decided to spare the stranger any more of this story.

“Dylan had to do what her parents said now let’s go get changed so we can swim”.

Stories. We all have them to tell. It’s not often that we want to invite a complete stranger into our story, in the way this little girl did, but they’re there. Sometimes buried deep, sometimes bubbling away about to burst out at the earliest sign of interest. This particular interaction happened while I was out enjoying Blue Spring Park last week, and I then couldn’t help wonder what the stories were of some of the others I saw around.

The first time parents both delighting in and anxious about their daughter’s first experience of water.

The couple arguing over who was supposed to have brought the wallet from the car, the amount of shouting and escalation suggesting this was the last straw in a growing series of events over that day? Week? Month? Years even?

The weekend access Dad trying desperately to engage his teenage kids who were having far more fun trying to drown each other than they were making conversation.

The kid with the cast who was sadly watching his siblings tubing in the spring. Did it happen during soccer? Falling from a tree? And how was he really feeling while watching everything going on around him.

Everywhere we go each person we encounter has their story; the finished chapters where they’ve overcome or succumbed, the present ongoing plot, and of course, the adventures yet to come. It’s easy to become consumed in our own - and they are fascinating! Even between first sitting down to write this and sending it, new characters have emerged, old ones popped back in and some new plot lines are unfolding! I find it too easy though to see people, hear them, pass them, even sit next to them on a bus or subway and actually have no interaction or even really see them as real, living, moving beings with a story.

The truth is though, that everyone has their story. And no matter whereabouts their story is at, it all needs more of one character in particular; Jesus. Whether their story hasn’t seen them knowingly interact with him yet, or whether their story just needs him in a greater measure, he’s the common factor in all of our stories. He’s the thing that knits the plots together into one beautiful ongoing story of separation, conflict, victory, restoration, redemption.....LOVE.

As I begin this new chapter of my own story with all its twists and turns I’m trying to remain aware of a few things.

Most importantly, letting Jesus be both the author and lead character in my story, and when faced with choices, making them wisely with him. Even when I think I know the ending, I don’t, but when I let him be the author I know it’s something beautiful.

Secondly, I want to be more aware of the stories of those around me. To be honest, as I’m about to move back into sharing a bedroom with other girls, I realise it’s crucial for community living! How else to tolerate that irritating habit or forgive that ridiculous response to what time we decide to turn the lights out?! Knowing and understanding we’re all on a journey and we’re all mid-story is such a helpful tool in community living no matter where we are or what we do. But! NEW YORK! So many people, so many nationalities, so many stories, and so much need for Jesus. Going into this season I’m asking for a greater awareness and sensitivity and for opportunities to carry his heart and his words into the script of the stories around me.

Thirdly, sharing our own stories with openness and vulnerability is powerful for both us and the person listening, and can be the very thing that opens a door to a whole other chapter, or at least a significant piece of dialogue. Let’s be wise with the who and when, but let’s not be afraid.