As a kid, when I imagined telling the story of my life, this is not the kind of story I wanted to tell. I imagined something more romantic, definitely adventurous and preferably exotic. My life, in all the most vividly colored musings of my childhood, would surely be composed of glorious and glorify-able circumstances that would, of course a bit later, fascinate or enthrall a reader.
Instead, this is mostly a story about being a wife and a mother. Did you ever notice that’s where most good stories end? The happy ending is the wedding or the birth. Rarely does a song, movie or book tell you what happens after that. No one wants to stick around for that part. Those parts of life are the definition of domestic, after all. Just plain, old, ordinary life. Not a story thought to be worthy of telling.
In the world’s view, nothing sets my life apart in a way that will be recognized as extraordinary by historians or even my own great-great grandchildren. Perhaps this has been the hardest for me to accept of all: What I wanted was to be special. What I have been is ordinary. And, what has been the worst part of being ordinary is that I haven’t even done it all that well. I’ve been restless, vexed, anxious, angry, surly, despaired, ashamed, dejected and just not generally the most cheery person around as I’ve come to accept the life I’ve been given instead of the life I always dreamed about. Plain, old, ordinary life broke me.
But this blog is not my pity party. It’s a place to remind myself and others that being obscure, ordinary and broken is exactly where God wants me to be. To consider that perhaps these are the qualities that actually make us most usable and valuable to Him.
I am telling this story because it’s worth telling. Specifically because I am not special in the world’s eyes, it is worth telling. Humans tell stories because in each one of them, in some way or another, we hear our own story or maybe the story we imagine for ourselves in our deepest heart-of-hearts. And when we do, we’re a little less alone. Or we understand ourselves better. Or we get to imagine what might have happened if…..If that were us, if we did that. Because I’m just an ordinary person, because I’m no more special than any other, I am telling my story in case someone out there might hear something familiar and find some comfort
All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.