Charlie Paparelli inspired this post; he writes an interesting blog. The one today talked about the impact storytelling has on conveying information. People understand stories and can remember them. I believe that is why Jesus told so many parables. People could relate to the story, and the sequence was easy to remember and retell.
What is the story I want to tell?
Our legacy, yours and mine, is not in what we accumulate or our accomplishments. Our legacy is the lives we touch. The moments that can not be replaced with words. There is an image I always get when I think of great stories. It is the image of an emotional tsunami that washes over me in a towering wave that takes my breath away. It is that moment when my brain turns off because of the emotional crescendo; I forget to breathe — a cacophony of visceral chemical reactions and uncontrolled emotions. Man, I hate those moments. I’m a guy who likes to be in control of his feelings. It is in the man by-laws. Those moments sweep over me, high jacking my consciousness. They leave me in awe and wonder. They leave me with a sense of joy and fear. Fear that it may never come again. That I will never feel this incredible depth of wonder again; it is a place I want to reside in forever…. It is a piece of Heaven on Earth.
Do I have this kind of story in me?
Have I lived a life that warrants such emotion? I don’t know; my life is my life. It is the only life I know. My shortcomings are not monumental; they’re ordinary, everyday, human frailty. I have always thought of myself, with pride I might add, as the common man. It is what I have aspired to be. A rock, not impressive, but dependable. So, do I have a story worthy of taking your breath away?
Stories have antagonists and protagonists; they have a plot that builds to an impossible situation, and then the climax, a bigger than life, overcoming all odds rescue. Tears and joy and laughter follow the rescue. The great story – The great ending
In my story, the antagonist is me, not the protagonist; you know the one who sweeps in and saves the day. I’m the one who needs saving because of my dastardly ways. I’m the Snidely Whiplash in this Dudley Do-right story. The protagonist is Christ; the plot is life, and the climax is the cross. The bigger than life, overcoming all odds rescue. It takes my breath away and leaves me in awe. I do have a story; it is the story of unspeakable betrayal. It is a story of unfathomable love. It is the story of greatness unearned but generously given. It is the love story that transcends all time and space. It is the ultimate happy ending. It is the story that lives in all of us. We have to recognize it and tell it.
I am not just part of a more significant story. I’m not a walk-on or bit player who shows up on filming day in answer to a casting call. I’m not here to fill in the background to make the story more “real.” I have a specific role with a unique script and a story to tell. God sees me center stage, in bright lights, the only character on stage. My story is unique, compelling, and captivating. It is the story of redemption.
I’m George Baily in a Wonderful Life; I’m Jean Valjean in Les Misérables. I am Peter. I am Paul. I am every man that ever fell and was lifted back up by Christ’s love. It is mine, and it’s worth telling.
Psalm 78:4 “We will not hide them from their children, but tell to the coming generation the glorious deeds of the Lord, and his might, and the wonders that he has done.”