people of the story…

For many of us this is a joyous time of year…or it’s meant to be a joyous time of year at least. It’s a time when many of us understand better the miraculous nature of our shared story. It’s a crazy story. It’s a story in which God becomes human, comes to Earth the way the rest of us came to Earth…well, came the way the humans did. I don’t rule out that there are Aliens among us, just so you know. Don’t judge me. You have your own suspicions, I can tell.

The completely wacky part of this story is that this baby grew and developed as we grew and developed. He was a gawky teenager at some point. His voice dropped. Hair showed up in unexpected places overnight. He needed new sandals every couple of months because his feet knew no boundaries. He might have had bad skin for a time.

All of this is wacky though because of what happened later. As a man he left his steady paying job as a carpenter, at least we assume he was a decent carpenter, Scripture isn’t clear on that I suppose. It’s possible Jesus was a really bad carpenter. What I’m saying is that there may have been no loss to the carpentry trade. It’s possible, but not important. Nevertheless, He left this job and decided to travel around preaching the good news. The good news He gave was well…Him. He was the good news. Jesus went around talking about the Kingdom of heaven, about his heavenly Father, about loving each other, about rendering unto Caesar what is Caesar’s…and He hung out with a bunch of gawky teenagers, not to mention prostitutes and tax collectors.

That’s not the crazy part. The crazy part comes at Easter, when He was arrested, strung up and nailed to a cross, mostly because He drew the short straw where the crowd was concerned and that Pilate didn’t have the guts to stand up to that crowd. He didn’t have a chance, really. It was written, all of it.

And then what caps it is that we believe He died, was buried and then three days later He rose again, fulfilling Scriptures that spoke of this..He rose again and showed Himself to the people who loved Him…and then He ascended into Heaven, His rightful home, the Prince returning to His place.

It’s all crazy. It’s my story…it’s the narrative I hold inside me and hope I live out, this life of sacrifice and love and honor and peace and death and life…

We are people of the story, all of us…whether it’s the one I’ve just described or some other, we are all people of the story, it’s important we breathe that, we believe that, we take that into us and let it course in our blood and shape our cells. We are people of the story. It’s where I’m at this season, realizing the gravity of this.

Hallelujah, amen.


1 thought on “people of the story…

  1. Pingback: Tweets that mention people of the story… « Mrs Metaphor --

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