Have you ever noticed the "best" stories are always tales of redemption? From real life to movies, those are the ones that draw us in.
The #1 thing I am most often told is how much people love our story. I know what they mean and always appreciate their sentiments. Yet many times when I hear that statement I think of all the parts of my story I anything but love.
There are many.
The story I wanted looks nothing like the story I ended up with.
The story I had dreamt of in my head was one of simplicity.
My biggest dream was to have a family. I imagined a life-long romance with my hubby filled with fun date nights together. I envisioned family vacations to the mountains and beach, little league games with my kiddos and their Coach Dad. I saw us buying a large plot of land and filling our weekends with projects. I imagined nights by the fire-pit roasting S’Mores, even one day traveling with my husband once our kiddos were raised and successfully out of our home.
That is the story I would have written for myself.
But I'm not the author.
Many morning’s I still wake up thinking “I can’t believe this is my life” for a myriad of reasons.
I have come to terms with the fact that there are many aspects of my story I will never be fond of.
I will never like the part when my husband got cancer. I will never like that he died. I will never like that I lost a baby. I will never like that Ellis got sick. I will never like the long-road to her recovery I have had to walk alone.
I will never, ever be happy those acts were written into the story of my life, that I had to endure their sting.
For better or worse those difficult parts are woven into my tapestry and will always remain. But slowly, replacing the deepest sadness, is the awe I feel as I witness the second act . Our redemption story.
God, in His infinite way, is able to take all the messy, hurtful, painful, broken parts of our story and weave them into a thing of beauty.
I look at my life now as a stained glass window.
From the outside it’s a lovely picture, upon closer inspection you notice all of the broken pieces that have come together to make it so.
The fact that the picture is now beautiful doesn’t take away from the fact that it was created from brokenness, yet that very brokenness is what created its intricate beauty.
Our story contains many broken pieces, as much as I wish it weren't so. But I’m thankful, so thankful, for the creative hands of our artist.
Though I might not ever understand the reason for the pieces, my heart is learning to trust in the artist, and the masterpiece He's creating.