Tweaking my Story

Recently I’ve read a couple of things about the function of “story” in our lives.  Things that have reminded me that as important as the events of our lives are the stories we attach to and tell about them.  Things that have made me examine the stories I’m telling.

I realized as I was thinking that while I told a faithful story two years ago when Russ lost his job and in the months after while we waited to see what was going to happen, I haven’t done such a good job of that in the last year.  The last year has been filled with stresses; the stress of moving, of cramming our large life into a too-small house, of living for approximately 7 months without seeing the sun more than once or twice, the stress of unresolved stomach pain and stretched thin finances and missing dear friends.  And so my story sort of morphed into a story of stress with a side of depression, topped with a little sprinkle of “I will never get over this experience.”

But I am resolving as of today (as of a couple of days ago, actually) to start telling the first story again.  To tell the story of rescue, and how it was so amazing that Russ found a new job so quickly, and that our money lasted until the exact day that Russ’s first paycheck from Intel came.  To tell the story of all of the help I was given by so many loving friends as I was trying to get the house ready to sell.  To tell how my sisters took turns calling me and crying with me and reassuring me that it would be ok.  And to tell the story (as Jason put it recently) that if we had to get “kicked out of the Garden of Eden,” Oregon is a pretty great place to have ended up.

Most of all, though, I’m going to tell the story more often of how I know that God has a plan for us.  And that for some reason, one that we don’t know about now and may never know about, His plan included us moving to Oregon.  I’m going to talk about how gracious He has been in His provision for us, and how I’m going to trust that His plan is the best plan.  (And that I hope it periodically enables us to go back to NC to the beach.)

Because these are the stories that my children need to hear.  These are the stories that I need to remember.