Returning to the Power of the Story

I believe I’ve mentioned the power of story before, but very recent events bring me back to it.

In as much as I’ve been a part of a family before – after all I grew up with my brother, sister, mother and father – I’ve never been in this position in a family before, namely no longer a junior member, but a senior member.  I’ve never had the responsibility of a wife and three children before.  It’s the first time.  At this stage of things it has occurred to me that this family business can be kind of all-consuming.  I mean, I work and stuff, but even the work is predicated on the need to provide for my family.

I come across some customers who are young parents or soon-to-be parents and they are desperate to get a paying job because they want to provide for their families.  One bloke in particular has a tremendous CV and his abilities, skills and experience make him ideal for the workplace and his girlfriend is expecting and in his family situation both new and older he is keen not to let down the one about to come.  What does that remind me of?  Well that reminds me of Authrine, Deborah, Abigail and Zoë whom in His wisdom God has charged to my responsibility to diligently pursue the most effective and efficient means to provide for their emotional, spiritual, mental, relational and physical welfare in as much as one such as I can.

That much exerts a lot of pressure but not unbearable stress.  So at the end of the working week it is a privilege and honour and much needed relief to be able to end the week and even … yeah you guessed it … rest in the company of this core group of people who are my life.  As you might have noted from one or two entries here and there, it has been a somewhat tumultuous year or so in the family life.  Especially recently, it has been a challenge to settle, but there are those moments of oasis where the calm is real.  Tonight was such an example.  The beautiful wife and mother figure in the household took us all to Mexico.  OK it was only in the meal that she had prepared, but we got into the spirit of things and enjoyed the flavour not just of the culinary masterpiece but of the ambience created by five people getting along mighty fine in this new culture that food had taken us to.

Feasting on the moment as well as on the sumptuous meal, we then retired to the living area of our main room (not to say the other area’s for dying, you understand).  There we perched on or in front of the family sofa (and  is there ever a story behind that!) and enjoyed a wonderful evening’s entertainment.  As we sat and relaxed, the toll of the whole week overcame us all.  It was no surprise that merely an hour into the entertainment the younger ones were dropping off to sleep, whilst even the good lady wife and myself struggled and failed to retain our waking status.  This all took place why we enjoyed a wonderful story.  The story was one we had already seen, but it was great for us to watch it again, falling asleep was just an after-effect of the week coming to a close.

We had been captivated, together, as a family, by the power of the story and there’s something to that.  Whatever culture, whatever age, through whatever medium, there is something about the power of the story that can grip people in a way that few other methods of communication can.  Don’t get me wrong a good piece of music, or painted/drawn art can inspire.  An act of kindness can stir up emotions deep in the being.  Yet when even these have been noted, what do they create but a part of our own life’s narrative?  Even in the re-telling, the effect is not palpable unless it is conveyed in a manner similar to that of a storyteller – I relate to it, because it is a real-life story – but it is just that – a story.

Unlocking the deepest parts of our desires, prejudices, fears and hopes there is something so beguiling, so entrancing, so edifying, so beneficial in the story that I must give God thanks for it.  It is through this means that I connect with my girls more effectively than any other method I know.  It is through this means that I can get other people interested in my point of view and even if they maintain their own position, they’re likely to remember where I’m coming from because of the twists, turns, points of hilarity or sheer bizarre nature of the story.

Of course for me at the most fundamental core of my being my faith in Jesus Christ is one reinforced by the compelling and convicting nature of the story.  That gospel narrative from creation to the cross to the culmination of all things.  It is not just a list of facts to me that I regard and take for granted, it is interwoven into the core of my being because of the power of the narrative.  Its effects, then, influence my behaviour and thought pattern.  The rhythms and weaves, turns and sways changes me and determines my footsteps even when I stray from the path I am to take.  He speaks to me and turns my heart to Him through that awesome power of the story.

For His Name’s Sake

Shalom

dmcd