There are believers in Minnesota. No doubt, there’s no other explanation than this. They’re calling it the Minneapolis Miracle – the purple play that couldn’t possibly have happened. But it did.
I am a fan of fairytales. I am just enough child with just enough imagination to believe in happily-ever-after.
Last weekend there were twenty-five or so of us adoptive moms at the Linden Hill Mansion. Pretending freedom and feeling pampered, sharing our lives and our stories. You had to believe in the fairytale or you’d never have done it. All of our stories start this way. The first evening together we circled the great room and made introductions. It was Beth whose words gave collective pause. Can you repeat what you said? That thing about how we all carry a fairytale – our kids and ourselves, both. And what needs to happen is not so much disbelieving, but releasing. Seeing how God gave us the dream, and then letting Him write the story. His story, His way, and if you pay careful attention you can see bits of the fairytale in the way it unfolds.
There are things happening in my own story, just this week, too good to be true. Things I’ve been dreaming and prayers I’ve been praying, and just maybe it’s happening. I hold loosely, believing. His Hand in the story, and I’m spellbound watching like a last-minute play. Is this really what’s happening? Would You do it this way?
Oh my goodness, it’s been quite a week. Everything happening all at once, and if this is a novel these are the chapters you can’t put down. Crisis. Conflict. Climax. It’s all that and then some. This story’s complex; I’ll say that, too. Some of it so raw and so hard it would wake you up quick to any thoughts of fairytale dreaming, except to say the story’s the story – and the whole plot matters. The broken and ugly are part of the beauty, and He’s in that, too.
These are lives we’re talking about. Broken, ravaged, beautiful lives. And what in the world would we ever do if we couldn’t cling tight to this bigger narrative of His Redeeming, Healing, Restoring story? Every detail a part of HIS PLAN.
And can I say this, too? This is no disappearing Snapchat story. We’re not living under any illusion of vanishing moments in a disposable life. This is forever. An eternal story, ever unfolding, and all of it matters. The crisis is part of the fairytale, too.
And I’m willing to say. I believe it. I do.
Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out! “Who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has been his counselor?”
“Who has ever given to God, that God should repay them?” For from him and through him and for him are all things. To him be the glory forever!