Listening to those stories that my grandma tells ignites the stories inside of my mom and dad, opening up new horizons that weren't available to me when I was growing up.
An observation that I've made: there's something contagious about re-telling personal history.
As they start to share, I begin to find parts of my own life falling into place. Different questions get answered inside their story, as they share about high school and college romances, good friends, painful interactions, dysfunction, defeated moments, victorious moments, meeting Jesus, saying goodbye to parents because of death, risky and faith filled decisions, and the list goes on and on.
Maybe that discovery of a larger story is a motivation behind God's frequent plea for us to not forget His faithfulness. When I forget the spiritual history of my life, both personal and historical, the world starts to feel much smaller. It begins to fill up with doubt and disappointment, versus a heart full of vision and faith and rejoicing--the kind of life that brings God pleasure.
I want to remember what God has done throughout history, before I was even born. I want eyes that see from His perspective, eyes that believe Him, no matter what today's news, current events, politicians or the great experts of our age are saying.
"Your love, God, is my song, and I'll sing it!
I'm forever telling everyone how faithful you are.
I'll never quit telling the story of your love--
how you built the cosmos
and guaranteed everything in it.
Your love has always been our lives' foundation,
your fidelity has been the roof over our world."
No comments:
Post a Comment