I want to tell you a story.
Once upon a time, there was very stubborn girl. This girl spent a lot of time being sure of things: sure that she knew what was best for her life, sure that she knew how to get it, sure of her decisions, and sure of herself. She walked in the right directions, she made good choices, she gave sound advice. Things went pretty well for this stubborn little girl for the longest of long times.
But the problem with being sure is confidence alone won’t keep you from failure. After awhile, the girl found that the choices she had made weren’t as sound as she thought. She realized the foundation she’d built for herself was full of holes, far from level, and sinking fast. And like most any stubborn and prideful child stuck on sinking ground, she did the only thing she could think of to do: she panicked. She tantrummed. She fled.
There is another important piece to this story. This girl, this stubborn, prideful girl, she was loved. She was fiercely, wildly, permanently loved. And when she finished panicking and tantrumming and opened her eyes to find herself miles and miles from everything she had been and everything she knew, that love swooped down and picked her up like a paperdoll and surrounded her like a cocoon and rewrote her story.
It’s a revolutionary experience, being rewritten by love. Suddenly, the things the girl had taken for granted or believed were rightfully hers became treasures, became gifts, became physical shards of a powerful grace. The stubborn grip that she’d kept on her plans and her ideas loosened, then slipped, then released altogether, and she was still loved. She learned to close her eyes and walk blindly, to run barefoot in the sand, to trust in promises and learn to laugh at her restless little heart, and was still loved. She traced the outlines of all her weaknesses onto cardboard and carried them like a banner through the streets of all her relationships and was still loved. She lost her cool and yelled like an idiot and got mad and got even and got hurt and failed hugely and was still loved.
She learns every day. She is sometimes disappointed, sometimes overjoyed, always blessed, and always, always, always loved. And that love, the love that bore her, that saved her, that keeps her and makes her, is the only thing of which she is sure. Which is how she prefers things, nowadays. 🙂
God is good all the time, and all the time, God is good.
>I love this true story. I love the words you chose, the style and the emotion it carries. We are all the stubborn girl sometimes.