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Making Our Story Count
For we spend our years as a tale that is told. - Psalm 90:9
As we wrap up our series on "Once Upon a Time," we've discovered that real life has both similarities and differences to fairy tales. We've explored how God writes better stories than the Grimm Brothers and how our struggles aren't always resolved with a wave of a magic wand. But today, let's focus on making our life story worth telling. After all, according to our verse, we spend our years as a tale that is told. The question is, what kind of tale are we telling?
Like any good story, our lives have a beginning, middle, and end. But unlike fictional tales, we're writing ours in real time, and we don't get to edit the previous chapters. So, how do we ensure our story is worth telling?
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How Real Life Differs From Fairy Tales
Growing up, I loved fairy tales. The dashing prince. The beautiful princess. The epic quest. The happily ever after. Even now, I find myself drawn to stories with similar themes, though I've long since learned that real life rarely follows the fairy tale format. And you know what? That's a good thing!
Our Story Isn't About Us
Unlike fairy tale heroes who take center stage in their stories, we're called to play supporting roles in a much grander narrative. Think about it. In fairy tales, everything revolves around the protagonist. Their wishes. Their dreams. Their journey. But in real life, we're part of God's story, and He's the true protagonist. Our purpose isn't to achieve our own "happily ever after" but to glorify the King of kings.
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How Our Lives Are Like a Fairy Tale
I've been knee-deep in fairy tales lately, preparing for our ladies' luncheon and retreat. You know how it goes. Once something gets in your head, it seems to pop up everywhere. Even my morning Bible reading took on a magical quality when I stumbled across Psalm 90:9, which speaks of spending our years "as a tale that is told."
Sitting there in my cozy office, watching the Welsh mist roll across the hills outside my window, I found myself thinking about the many ways our lives are both similar to and different from these beloved fairy tales. In today's devotion, we'll explore some of the similarities, and in the next devotion, we'll look at the differences.
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Timing Is Everything
Last Friday started like any other day. Jason and I accomplished various household and ministry tasks and then prepared for our daily walk with Tess, who was practically dancing by the door in anticipation. Just as I reached for her leash, Jason remembered one "quick task" he needed to complete before we left.
You know how those quick tasks go, right? They're never as quick as we imagine. What should have taken five minutes stretched into twenty, then thirty. Meanwhile, Tess's excitement gradually transformed into confused disappointment as she watched us bustle about, still not heading toward the door. Poor pup!
When we finally stepped outside, the weather had taken a dramatic turn. The cold, cloudy day had morphed into a miserable wintry mix of sleet and snow. Our pleasant walk turned into a rushed affair, with all three of us eager to return home as quickly as possible.
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Biting Off More Than We Can Chew
Our little terrier, Tess, has quite the peculiar eating habit that never fails to make me chuckle. Despite her boundless enthusiasm for food, she's incredibly particular about portion sizes. Give her a treat that's too large, and she transforms into a whimpering wanderer, carrying the morsel from room to room like it's some great burden.
Just yesterday, Jason gave her a piece of stale muffin, and the drama began. Round and round she went, from the kitchen to the living room, then upstairs and back down again, all while making the most pitiful sounds imaginable. Finally, I took pity on her (perhaps because I just wanted some peace and quiet) and broke the treat into smaller pieces. You'd think that would solve the problem, right? But no! Our clever girl promptly scooped up all the pieces at once and started her woeful procession all over again! Crazy mutt!!!
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The Comfort of God’s Everlasting Arms
Have you ever noticed how parents instinctively position themselves to catch their children? Whether teaching a toddler to walk or spotting a child learning to ride a bike, their arms are always underneath, ready to catch their precious ones when they fall. It's a natural response—one born of love and an intense desire to protect.
This morning, as I was reading in Deuteronomy, a familiar verse caught my attention in a new way. "The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms" (Deuteronomy 33:27). I've read this verse countless times, but today, that word "underneath" jumped off the page and grabbed my heart.
Why underneath? Of all the ways God could have positioned His arms—around us, beside us, or even above us—He specifically tells us His everlasting arms are underneath.
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The Tale of Two Left Feet
I stared down at my feet this morning and burst out laughing. Something wasn't quite right. Both of my cozy new socks—a lovely Christmas gift from my husband—were marked with an "L." In my haste to match up the laundry, I'd managed to give myself two left feet!
I raced down the length of the house to share my predicament with Jason. "Look!" I exclaimed, pointing to my feet. "I've got two left feet!"
Without missing a beat, he quipped, "That's appropriate." Cheeky man!
As I giggled back to my office, I couldn't help but ponder the spiritual parallel. Just as these socks were specifically designed as left and right pairs to function optimally, God has uniquely designed each of us with specific purposes within the body of Christ.
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The Right Deed Gone Wrong
Have you ever felt like you did the right thing and somehow got punished for it? I certainly have, and recently, these situations seem to be multiplying like rabbits in springtime. There's an old saying that "No good deed goes unpunished," and sometimes life appears determined to prove that axiom true.
In the past couple of weeks, I faced two particularly challenging situations where I followed the right path with the purest intentions, only to be met with heartbreak and disappointment. I won't bore you with the details, but imagine doing everything by the book—crossing every 't', dotting every 'i'—and still ending up with results that make you question whether you should have bothered at all.
In times like these, it's tempting to throw up our hands and say, "Why bother? What's the point in living right if things are going to turn out badly anyway?"
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Beyond the “Church Experience”
I was flipping through channels the other night when I landed on one of those singing competition shows. You know the type—aspiring artists performing their hearts out before a panel of celebrity judges. After one particularly moving performance, one of the judges exclaimed, "Wow, you really took us to church!"
I couldn't help but chuckle at the phrase. It's become quite common nowadays, hasn't it? Whether it's a soulful ballad, an impressive guitar solo, or even a particularly passionate speech, people love to say they've been "taken to church." The phrase has come to represent any experience that stirs the emotions or creates a sense of excitement.
But as I pondered this cultural phenomenon, I couldn't help but wonder: Is this what church is really meant to be? An emotional high? A performance that leaves us feeling uplifted for a moment?