Our Lives Are Stories

This was taken from the Ransomed Heart. I found it to be interesting because I think so many of us do this. I know I enjoy hearing the story of my family and friends but also people I meet in my work and in my travels. We all have wonderfully, fascinating stories to share.
~Corey

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Life, you’ll notice, is a story.

Life doesn’t come to us like a math problem. It comes to us the way that a story does, scene by scene. You wake up. What will happen next? You don’t get to know—you have to enter in, take the journey as it comes. The sun might be shining. There might be a tornado outside. Your friends might call and invite you to go sailing. You might lose your job.

Life unfolds like a drama. Doesn’t it? Each day has a beginning and an end. There are all sorts of characters, all sorts of settings. A year goes by like a chapter from a novel. Sometimes it seems like a tragedy. Sometimes like a comedy. Most of it feels like a soap opera. Whatever happens, it’s a story through and through.

“All of life is a story,” Madeleine L’Engle reminds us.

This is helpful to know. When it comes to figuring out this life you’re living, you’d do well to know the rest of the story.

You come home one night to find that your car has been totaled. Now, all you know is that you loaned it for a couple of hours to your teenage daughter, and now here it is, all smashed up. Isn’t the first thing out of your mouth, “What happened? ” In other words, “Tell me the story.”

Somebody has some explaining to do, and that can be done only in hearing the tale they have to tell. Careful now—you might jump to the wrong conclusion. Doesn’t it make a difference to know that she wasn’t speeding, that in fact the other car ran a red light? It changes the way you feel about the whole thing. Thank God, she’s all right.

Truth be told, you need to know the rest of the story if you want to understand just about anything in life. Love affairs, layoffs, the collapse of empires, your child’s day at school—none of it makes sense without a story.

(Epic, 2-4)
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If you want to get to know someone, you need to know their story. Their life is a story. It, too, has a past and a future. It, too, unfolds in a series of scenes over the course of time. Why is Grandfather so silent? Why does he drink too much? Well, let me tell you. There was a terrible battle in World War II, in the South Pacific, on an island called Okinawa. Tens of thousands of American men died or were wounded there; some of them were your grandfather’s best friends. He was there, too, and saw things he has never been able to forget.

“But in order to make you understand,” explained novelist Virginia Woolf, “to give you my life, I must tell you a story.”

I expect all of us, at one time or another, in an attempt to understand our lives or discover what we ought to do, have gone to someone else with our stories. This is not merely the province of psychotherapists and priests, but of any good friend. “Tell me what happened. Tell me your story, and I’ll try to help you make some sense of it.”

We humans share these lingering questions: “Who am I really? Why am I here? Where will I find life? What does God want of me?” The answers to these questions seem to come only when we know the rest of the story.

As Neo said in The Matrix Reloaded, “I just wish I knew what I am supposed to do.” If life is a story, what is the plot? What is your role to play? It would be good to know that, wouldn’t it? What is this all about?

(Epic, 6-7)

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