I've been pretty sporadic in blogging lately, partly because I've felt really busy and harried (and even a bit hairy when I'm so busy I forget to shave) that I don't stop to think and write or don't feel like I have something interesting to say or the means to say it or nothing spectacular has gone on. Just the same ol' stuff that wears me out and makes me want to watch a mindless baseball game instead of think or read or write.
But the sweet hymn "Blessed Assurance" has been bouncing around my head these past few days and dontcha know that we sang that this morning. I've found myself thinking of simple refrain "This is my story, this is my song, praising my Savior all the day long" as we've been studying 2nd Timothy as Paul is passing on his legacy to Timothy and admonishing him to entrust the gospel message to others. And I've been thinking about L's excuses for not writing down her family's story: "What could I say that hasn't already been written?" And K's comments are on the money, as usual.
And I've been thinking that all our stories, for those who have been redeemed through the grace of God, are the same story. Of course there is nothing unique. It's the story He's been telling since "In the beginning" and every story whispers his name. Whatever analogy you use--mosaic, tapestry, quilt--we are reflecting the story of redemption in the myriad of His means and methods.
The crux of it though is in the telling, the passing down, the communication of our personal story to show how His story interrupted the one we were telling apart from Him and how he rewrote the ending. And the telling of the story, regardless of the size of the audience, is how He uses us to bring others into the story.