Humans are naturally inclined to tell, learn from, and remember stories. I’ll never forget the stories of my mom’s battle with cancer, my dad’s near miss with death on what was meant to be a simple Beechjet training flight, and other crazy stories that shape the way my life has formed. When the close group of friends I have from back home are all visiting each other from our respective universities or new homes, the first thing we do is tell long winded stories of the new developments in our lives as we catch up on all the time we’ve missed together.

God knows our tendency to listen to and learn from stories. Many translations of Hebrews 12:2 call Jesus the “author and [finisher/perfecter] of our faith.” The whole bible is a long story of love, redemption, and mercy interwoven in the historical rise and fall of civilizations and people groups. Jesus often spoke to his disciples and thousands of onlookers in parables. We are much more likely to remember the story of the wise and foolish builders (the one who built his house upon the rock and the one who built his house upon the sand, Matthew 7:24-27) than we would be to remember a simple verse that could convey the same concept. The story adds depth, it adds a personal touch of “which builder am I?”, and it adds imagery in a way that the reader can actually picture one house washing away in the storm, and one standing strong.

God, himself, is a storyteller. Every human being on this earth has a story that is more detailed, incredible, and (sometimes) painful than we tend to realize. These stories are beautiful, and are daily being written and rewritten by the choices we make and by God himself as he walks with us. A colleague once told me how he grew up being told he’d never amount to anything, and how that past shapes how he seizes every opportunity he can in his studies and his work. I’ve heard stories from people who have been brought from homelessness and desperation to a new life through the help of the local church. I’ve heard stories from a pastor who had to crash land a plane he was flying for mission work in the middle of the Caribbean and lived to tell about it. Understanding the stories behind the people around us changes how we interact with others on a daily basis. Rather than getting angry with a snippy store clerk, we could think “what made this person frustrated today, and how can I help them have a better day?” Maybe, rather than avoiding or arguing with an unpleasant coworker, we can look for the story behind this person’s behavior and see how we can reach out to them in a time where they may be struggling with things we can’t see on the surface.

Deeply rooted as the motivation behind the way I choose to live every day is my own personal story. As the first post on this blog, I’m sharing my story so that you can get to know me and where I’m coming from when I write.

I shouldn’t be alive. My mother survived thyroid cancer when she was 13. My father was one spark away from the Beechjet he was test flying going up in flames due to an engine malfunction that covered the tarmac below him in jet fuel. Then came my own story. The child before me was a miscarriage, and when my parents found out they were pregnant again, they were hesitant to share the news because of fear it would end the same way. My mother was on medicated bed-rest through the last twenty weeks of her pregnancy, barraged by threats of pre-term labor. Then, one day, I stopped moving. My mother was rushed to the emergency room, where doctors discovered that my heart rate had dropped below sixty beats per minute, less than half of the typical heart rate of babies at that stage. During that time in the hospital, I experienced severe oxygen deprivation for over ten minutes, causing the doctors to fear severe brain damage or even death. But, after an emergency Cesarean section, I am alive and well today.

Much of my life through grade school was marked by bullying. Elementary and middle school were full of jabs from other students for the glasses I wore since kindergarten, the awkwardness I often demonstrated in social situations, and the mental ability I displayed. Some of that bullying even came from members of my church’s youth group. In high school, the bullying sometimes shifted to classmates making fun of my strong religious beliefs. During those high school years, I began struggling with depression and feelings of severe loneliness. These are struggles that sometimes continue to come back to this day, and I wouldn’t wish them on anyone.

I grew up going to church, and chose to accept Christ at a youth camp I went to every year when I was 11. My faith, through the years of bullying and depression, was always the rock that kept me going. That continues today whenever I face any trials with in my university studies, work, or daily life. In times of doubt, thinking “I can’t do this” or “I’m not good enough,” or in times where my emotions get the best of me, I know that God is always walking with me, and that he is still writing my story.

Something we always need to remind ourselves of is God is not done with our stories yet. In times of hardship and struggle, God is walking with us, shouldering the burdens we feel are too much to handle on our own. I don’t know your story, but what will always hold true is that God is a better storyteller than any of us are. There is freedom and peace in knowing that the one who designed the universe, the one who wrote the stories of Abraham, Moses, David, Peter, Paul, and millions of others is writing our stories too. Our past shapes our future, but it doesn’t define us. Romans 8:28 says “…we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose,” and all we have to do is walk with God and allow the greatest of all storytellers to write our stories with us.

 

Photo Credit: Angela Zhang