by Jebraun Clifford
I remember when I first learned to read words and sentences strung together to make a story. At the tender age of five, I sat with “Little Bear” by Maurice Sendak on my lap. At the beginning, only the first page made any sense. Then, as I grew in confidence and ability, page after page came alive.
I remember when I first learned to read words and sentences strung together to make a story. At the tender age of five, I sat with “Little Bear” by Maurice Sendak on my lap. At the beginning, only the first page made any sense. Then, as I grew in confidence and ability, page after page came alive.
The story
transported me to another world.
I traveled with
Little Bear to the moon, tasted the birthday cake his mother baked for him,
felt the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet.
Throughout my
childhood, this scenario was repeated again and again as I moved to more
challenging books with fewer illustrations and longer chapters. Jenny and the
Cat Club, Little House on the Prairie, Anne of Green Gables.
Stories entertained me for hours, fueled my
imagination, and satisfied my soul.
I lived for the
days when my teacher would pass out the Scholastic book club order sheets. My
parents put limits on how much I could spend (otherwise I’d buy every book!)
and I’d spend hours poring over each description, agonizing over this title or
that.
One of my
purchases was a condensed version of “Little Women,” and I read it so many
times that the pages drifted out of the spine. Imagine my delight when my
grandmother gave me a beautiful hardback copy, and I found undiscovered
chapters with more details of the March girls’ antics. Of course, I broke down
in tears when I read that Jo didn’t marry Laurie, and even the
appearance of kindly Professor Bhaer wasn’t enough to quench my
disappointment.
So many of the
stories I read made deep, lasting impacts on me, and I can truthfully say that
some changed the way I think.
For this is the
magic of stories.
Stories engage
us.
Challenge
us.
Entreat us.
Madeleine L’Engle
says “stories make us more alive, more human, more courageous, more loving.”
My favourite story
is one I find myself returning to again and again. In
each season of my life, it’s meant something a little different.
Every time I read it, I’m struck anew by its richness
and depth.
The story tells of
an individual who left his home to seek a
bride.
To rescue her from
destruction and death.
To find all things
lost.
To heal all things
wounded.
To bind all things
broken.
To establish an ever-expanding kingdom.
This quest would
cost the God-man his life, a price he was more than willing to pay.
Would you be
interested in such a story? Would it surprise you to discover that you are the
bride? And that you have a part to play in creating this kingdom?
For we’re all
involved in this great cosmic story. An epic struggle against good and evil with a
cowardly antagonist and a glorious Hero. Of princesses, warriors, and kings. This story has spanned the ages and
will continue on into eternity.
And this time,
there will be no let-down at the end of the story. No disappointment. No tears.
This is the
ultimate Story, and one I love to read again and again. Do you know it?
Be blessed,
I love this so much Jebraun! My pastor is doing a sermon series on Genesis, and we came to the chapter about Abraham's servant finding Rebekah at the well. My pastor said, "All creation is moving toward the son of Abraham getting a wife. Chief of all the things God ordained is that we would be his bride, his church, that we would hear the question: will you go with this man?"
ReplyDeleteI had never seen Christ in that story before, and the realization of it moved me to tears.
Thank you for this lovely reminder of that truth.