For nearly 20 years now, I’ve had this really faulty idea that this story was all about this moment in time, about us, about our generation, and, honestly, about me. There are about 7 and a half billion people on this earth, right now, and I have the audacity to believe that this is more about my story than all of theirs? The world has spun for thousands of years, generation upon generation, surviving countless earthquakes, tornadoes, hurricanes, wars, famines, droughts, floods, one flood that covered everything except for a boat, a family and a host of creatures, extinctions of however many species of plants and animals, and somehow I think this generation is the one that matters the most? You can mock me, but I bet if you were honest with yourself, you’d have to admit that you somehow believe the same thing.
As I’ve walked down this well-worn road, following in the footprints of the saints that have gone before me, that perspective has worn down a little bit, piece by piece. But lately, my mind has just simply been blown all to pieces with the reality that I am really only a teeny-tiny speck, almost indiscernible, except to a Holy and Glorious God, who manages to keep track of how many hairs are on my head! And because He treats me like I’m important, I somehow thought I was.
Lately, I’ve just been realizing that this Story is really all about Him… every single second of it. That my job is not to discern God’s will for MY life, but to draw ever nearer to Him so I could watch the blazing glory of His story, and ignite with the heat of it. That I could enjoy His immense majesty displaying itself all around me, in fireflies and caterpillars, galaxies and grass blades and breeze. And that I could somehow watch what He is doing and try to follow along closely, because what He’s doing is the most amazing stuff of all. And really, ultimately, this has just about nothing to do with me, except that He’s adopted me and loves me.
When it’s my turn to act, be it by serving someone or giving something away or offering time to a weary traveler, or whatever, it is only because He ignites me. His story weaves itself into my soul and I watch and learn…. but only because I belong to Him and want to show Him to a lost and hurting world… not because the act itself is important, but because He is. Because His love is contagious and I want to learn from it, exemplify it, to a world that is broken to pieces and doesn’t yet believe the Story. His story. His glory. His love and affection painted on the walls of the horizon and in one another’s faces. His world-sparkling majesty flickering like sparks of a camp fire rising into the abyss.
And the story isn’t over. It won’t resolve until the pages of Revelation ruffle closed with a King mounted on a white horse, with His name tattooed on His thigh and His sword-tongue punctuating the atmosphere. The trumpet will sound and we will see the resolution to all this conflict. Every good story has a conflict and a resolution. We sit smack dab in the middle of the conflict and want to say that He is not good, because all we see is the conflict. But the Story hasn’t resolved. And even though the main Character is invisible, He is the greatest Hero of all, and this story will have a phenomenal ending! We just have to trust and wait and enjoy what we can see, of Him, not the conflict. Because this story isn’t about the struggle, it’s about a God who redeems struggle and does all things well, and for the good of His people, even though we are so insignificant that its absurd that He would consider our best interest, yet He does, perpetually.
Maybe that’s why I always thought this was about me. Because He treats me like I am way more significant than I actually am. But I am glad that, after nearly 20 years of loving Jesus, that finally some of that stagnating pride is wearing off my soul. And that pride thinning means that there’s less of a veil blocking my vision from seeing Him. He is the most radiant-beautiful of all. The more I see of Him, the less I want to see of myself, or concern myself with my own agenda, my own safety, my own comfort. Because His lovingkindness is better than life! So my lips, hands, heart, mind, pen and tongue will praise Him forever. And I will watch the horizon for the grand finale, when the trumpet bellows and shakes the foundations of the earth! And every knee bows before the Hero.
