What's Your Story?

Last week we had some new friends over for dinner. We were also babysitting our niece Ella. It was an entertaining night. They brought along a turtle that they were house sitting. It was in a small cardboard box. It was a BIG turtle. My friend warned us that it might bite, so just not to put your fingers in front of it's face. The kids were fascinated and also terrified at the same time and I have to admit so was I. As we ate dinner and talked, much to the kids excitement and horror, the turtle got bored and climbed out of the box; it wanted to explore the house I suppose. My friend put it back in the box, but repeatedly through the course of the night, the turtle would climb back out and go exploring. It was quite the surprise to happen upon it when you rounded a corner. The kids would randomly discover it in their room, or the office and scream loudly, running for cover :-) After they went home, the kids went to bed. Ella was sharing Robbie's huge bed with him, and the poor girl had the most awful night. Robbie kept waking up screaming, "Where is it?" or "I see it over there". I would assure him that the turtle went home and it couldn't get him, to which he would mumble, "oh ok, I though i saw it over there" and fall back asleep, only to repeat it an hour later.

But the most impressing time of the night for me was when we sat down after dinner. I had very recently and very randomly met our guests a week earlier and we knew very little about each other. The woman immediately asked me, "What is your story?" The first thing she wanted to know about me was how I met our Father. Of course I told her and then she asked if she could tell me her story. Her story was tragic and beautiful. I listened with tears streaming down my face. When she was about my age, she had a 1 1/2 year old son. Like most families here, they were only permitted to have one child so he was over course her world. It was winter and he became ill with pneumonia (this in particular struck a chord of deep understanding in my heart). She took him to the hospital and while he was there he had a severe allergic reaction to penicillin, which the doctor failed to recognize, and he died immediately. She, her husband, and family were devastated. My friend was very depressed and began questioning many things about her life. A short time later, her mother who was also very depressed, met an old friend who had a completely changed countenance from when she previously knew him. He told her the good news and not long after she believed. My friend went with her mother to listen to the good news and not long after she also believed. What no one else had known was that at the time of her son's death she was already several weeks pregnant. Because she really had no other options she had intended to terminate the pregnancy, but due to her son's tragic death it was now permissible for her to have another child. So a short time later she delivered a healthy baby girl, who was now sitting in my apartment, as a beautiful teenager. One by one, each of her family members believed the good news. Her beautiful daughter, who wasn't intended to live, loves our Father with all her heart. What an amazing story. Our Father is always busy making beauty out of ashes. He can take even the most tragic and painful things and turn them into something of great hope and beauty. The first thing the "natives" ask you here is always for your story. Sometime I'm a little shy about mine because it's so "boring". I was 4 years old, so from the outside looking in, nothing earth shattering happened to me on that day. But it did. I went from being an enemy of the King to being a child of the King. It is the story I desperately wish my children to have. I hope with all my heart that as soon as they comprehend they will have the joy of starting their own story, that they will recognize the amazing gift of love being offered to them and accept it with their whole hearts. I hope the beginning of their story is "boring". This whole night served as a reminder to me of the beauty of each one of our stories. It also was a challenge to my heart, that the first thing I want to know about people is not always their story. I settle for getting to know more trivial things, where you are from, family, employment, likes, dislikes. I should start with the most important thing first. The most important thing you could really know about someone is if they have a story, and if they do, what it is. It is always beautiful!

On a side note, I found myself checking under tables and peaking around corners for the rest of the night, just in case the turtle didn't really go home :-)

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