Friday, February 5, 2010

Whose Story?

I referenced Donald Miller the other day as he admitted in Blue Like Jazz that he always thought life was a play about him, and all the people in his life had the privilege of being supporting characters to his central role.  Clearly that is my view of life and has been for as long as I can remember and it is certainly at the root of my agitation, discontent and anxiousness when my story isn't going the way I have it scripted in my mind.

In childhood, that notion was developed by repetitive questions of "who do you want to be when you grow up?" or "how do you want to change the world?"  As I grew through adolescence and into young adulthood, the persepctive that I was to be the central character in my life's story was fed even more by time spent identifying my unique gifts and talents and dreaming of the heroic mark I would leave on the world.  Questions asked of me by well intentioned leaders or teachers were along the lines of "What do you want your obituary to tell of your life?" or "How do you want to be remembered?"

Given my particular personality, I have always wanted to be like Braveheart, first on the battlefield fighting for truth and justice.  I want to be like Luther, challenging the status quo with Gospel understanding, saying awe inspiring things like, "Here I stand, I can do no other!"  As a child, I mourned my perception that I had missed marching with Martin Luther King, Jr. against prejudices and racism (as if he had settled the matter once and for all.)  But in each scenario, lurking where I haven''t always seen it, I want to be the hero of the story.  Never conciously, of course, but true just the same...and it inevitably leads to the conlcusion made in Million Dollar Baby, if my days are simply to go from "great potential" to living helplessly in seclusion, there is no point in living.  Go big or go home, right?

With this assumption driving my purpose in life, my existence can only be validated or in any sense deemed of value if my contribution to God's Kingdom is both visible and measurable.  An impatience to get through this particular scene and into a new setting takes over because the "real story" that must take place will begin to unfold when I'm "there" doing "that".

Naturally, discontent in the present increasingly takes over.  I become so preoccupied with the future mission that I totally neglect loving the people right in front of me in this moment.  I so need the spectacular that I miss the miraculous.  I say "this is the day the Lord has made" but assume it to be true in a general sense, not in the details of sweeping cereal from the kitchen floor, icing my sprained ankle, or dealing with Ellie's melt down because we can't have ice cream tonight.

I want to script my future, offering God suggestions (and demands) of the setting where my story would more effectively take place and the plot line that would really help His Kingdom to come here on earth as it is in heaven.  I don't trust that God's scripted storyline will be to my liking or I fear that He is going to give me a less interesting role than I think I should have.

But what if your kingdom come means, as Paul Miller wrote, that "instead of trying to create my own story, I will be content to let God write his story"?

How different would my attitude and days be if I really trusted that this argument, this mundane task, this traffic, this waiting, this "no", this suffering, this birthday party, this wedding reception, this school activity, this too long conversation that used up all previously set aside time, this cold, this whatever...that each seemingly unremarkable moment is a very necessary element in the story God is telling of His redemptive work in the world, in the people around me, and within my own heart?    Its much harder to disguise what is true about our hearts in all the "unremarkable" moments of life and equally impossible to fake the Spirit's work. AND, that kind of powerful, faith building transformation is almost impossible to see in a flashy moment but almost impossible to miss in the mundane.

What if I would just start to believe that the entire Bible from Genesis to Revelation and the entire history of mankind from beginning to end is telling one beautiful, life-giving story of creation, fall, redemption and glorification and that the hero of the story is the person and work of Jesus, not me?  If I really trusted that no plan of His can be thwarted, that He will accomplish all that He intends, the He will complete the good work He has begun, would I be more willing to let Jesus be the focus and leading actor instead of rushing to play His part?  Would I doubt His goodness and control just because a storm swells up around the boat we are in?  Would I be less anxious when things didn't go as I would like them scripted?  Would I be less angry when my plans were thwarted?  Would I love the person in front of me more because he or she would no longer seem "in the way" of the "more important" person or accomplishment I had in mind?  Would I start to rest more deeply in the present setting and plot line of my life, with greater contentment and delight?  Do I really think I could craft a more beautiful, engaging, life-giving and transforming story than God?

For by him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy. Col. 1:16-18

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