What if We Could Write History
Dan and I have been touring museums and monuments and historic sites on our three-week road trip to Wisconsin and back. I didn’t appreciate history in school, but I find it fascinating these days.
At Mt. Rushmore and Crazy Horse, we watched videos of how the sculptors (read: dynamite handlers) shaped mountains of stone into presidents’ faces and an Indian chief on a horse. Mind boggling.
We climbed the stairs as far as we could in Yellowstone’s Old Faithful Lodge where the layers of balconies were built for guests to enjoy an overhead view of dancers on the main floor.
We nosed through a lighthouse in Two Harbors along Lake Superior’s north shore and read about shipwrecks on this moody lake.
And at the Lewis & Clark Museum in South Dakota, there’s a boat hanging from the ceiling with its stern sticking through the tall glass windows to create an outdoor balcony. Visitors can climb the stairs into the boat and step out the back glass door to get a feel for the size of the original vessel used by Lewis & Clark in their explorations along the Missouri River.
The history of our country is a mix of fierce and proud and shameful and brave and heart-breaking and heart-stirring.
As individuals, we also have a history. Parts of our stories have generated regrets, sorrow, and trauma, while parts of our stories have overwhelmed us with deep joy and profound gratitude.
Katy Nichole, singer and songwriter, wrote these lyrics about a hard time in her life, followed by a season of grace:
There’s torn up pages in this book
Words that tell me I’m no good
Chapters that defined me for so long.But the hands of grace and endless love
Dusted off and picked me up
Told my heart that hope is never gone.
The chorus goes like this:
God is in this story
God is in the details
Even in the broken parts
He holds my heart, He never fails.
What is your history? What lessons have you learned as your story has unfolded? What second chance have you been given?
Author Chris Fabry asks this question:
What’s holding you back from joining God in writing the story you were meant to write together?
What will you help God write in this current season of your life that will read like an interesting history book to the people following after you, that will inspire them to hunger for a well-lived story?
I want to help God pen a real and vulnerable story—not about what I’ve accumulated or accomplished, but about how well I love, and how well I show that love in my actions.
