God is Bigger
They say that one sure way to know you’re a writer is if you’re always thinking some extraordinary thing is happening to you. As if you are the special one who gets to walk through life starting stories with, “You will not believe what happened to me this week… or yesterday…. or ten minutes ago.” This describes 90% of my conversations, and I think what this really means is that God has designed me with an inner drive to be a storyteller. You would think this would really benefit my two-year-old daughter Celia, but she usually gets some version of Little Pink Celia hood and the Big Good Wolf and that’s about as inspired as it gets.
The reality is that these days my life is filled with things that are quite ordinary like laundry and dishes and checking email to make sure I’m just minimally behind (not woefully late) in responding to people. And honestly, most days I search for the words to write something beautifully crafted. I started a novel once in college. Never finished and don’t know if I will. The thing is my characters can never live out what I once imagined them to become. Why? It’s because I’m different. I’m (semi if not firmly) rooted in reality now, and I don’t grieve the college girl who created an imaginary family and world for them to live in on the pages of a long abandoned manuscript. The thing is, I long to know the Creator more than I want to be creative. I know God can show me how those things are so intricately related, but for now I think He just wants me to be still. To rest in the truth of how small I am in light of the big story He is weaving together.
This doesn’t mean that I’ve stifled my story telling nature all together. I do, in fact, put a really intense spin on the events of our day when I give my husband Bobby the recap at supper each night. From what he is told, Celia is the fastest toddler to ever go flailing across Chick-fil-a at the most crowded lunch hour in history, while literal swarms of people stare with gaping mouths as her hugely pregnant mom bounds after her trying not to yell about getting Mr. Spanky (the spanking spoon) out of the diaper bag at any moment if she doesn’t stop (true story). And the little burn on my index finger turns into a second-degree scald as I recount how hot that plate of potatoes was as I retrieved it from the microwave. And the conversation with my kindred spirit best friend is relayed with as many interventions from the Holy Spirit as Jonah himself would have experienced in the belly of the great fish.
If I’m being really honest, the imaginary tea parties each day with Celia are actually pretty magical. (Her pretend cinnamon rolls are the best ever.) And God really can take mundane chores and give me great joy and purpose in them (cue Ann Voskamp blog music please), but it doesn’t look as noble as I once thought it would be. I don’t know where you are in your life these days. My guess is that you’re not living in some kind of creative state of bliss. (Maybe you are and if so, congrats and have one of Celia’s cinnamon rolls to celebrate.) But regardless of where you are it’s my prayer that you’ll be still in your reality and let God be better than your imagination. He has good stored up for us and he is a God who is “merciful, gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.” (Ps. 86:15). He is merciful when I don’t finish what I start. He is gracious when I seek to know Him better (and on days when I don’t). He is steadfast and faithful beyond anything my small mind could dream up and it makes me love him and worship with more vulnerability than I ever dreamed possible. Imagine that!!
