The Gift of Story

She comes just when I need her, as she always does.

It is the middle of the morning, and already I feel the lonely day stretching ahead of me. My husband is in Romania on a mission trip, my friends are preoccupied with their own busy lives, and my children seem to perceive me as a heaven-sent robot here to meet their every demand. I tuck my heart away with a sigh, ready to dig in.

I pick up the mail and there it is, the square yellow envelope with her name in the corner. Just looking at that name makes me smile.

I tear open the envelope and out she comes, little bits of her heart overflowing with love. A treat for each of the kids and a silly card for me and this, this gift that has to be one of the best I have ever received.

A book for her friend who loves words, full of her words of gratitude…for me.

Page after page of her living love. As I read, I picture her in her house in Texas, taking the precious time to capture our friendship on these pages. Stories flow: the day we met, both of us lonely and in search of a friend. The bond that grew between us in that little Kansas town, a rare friendship that soon became the deepest I have known. Our shared love of the mountains and many outdoor adventures together. Grieving with one another over miscarriages, heartbreaks, disappointments, moving away.

Reading her memories is like holding a piece of her heart. Each page of this gift hands me the treasure we all long for: to know we are loved. Cherished. Valued. Remembered. The laughs bubble up and the tears flow as her words reach out and pull me into what I had forgotten was there.

I remember a recent conversation with my husband. We had just returned from the funeral of a friend where story after story had been told of his life, his love, those he touched with his gentle heart. Wouldn’t it be great to attend your own funeral and hear all those things said about you, we thought.

Or maybe we should say them beforehand?

That’s what Staci did for me today.

I often tell my students that there is nothing like the power of story. We all crave a good story. We are bound together by the stories we share. And isn’t it true that we always seek to know our part in the story, to find our place, to know we have an indispensible role?

Too many of us think we have no part in the story.

We feel forgotten.

But our story has already been written.

“You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed” (Ps. 139.16).

There is One who loves story. And His story includes each of us. We are an indispensible part of making the story happen. Each character is carefully planned.

“He determined the times set for them and the exact places where they should live. God did this so that men would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us” (Acts 17:26-27).

He wants to be our story, and He wants us to live our stories together. I think the beauty of our entwined lives makes Him glad.

Today He used a friend to remind me that my story matters.

Whose stories matter in your life? Do they know? Have you told them?