story: n. an account of incidents or events

If I was to ask you to tell me your story, how would you respond? Perhaps you would tell me how old you are, where you were born and where you live, a bit about your family, education, job, and accomplishments. Those things, however, are basic facts, an autobiographical overview, far removed from the whole of your story. 

Every person on the planet has a story, and that story differs from all others. No two are alike. The human story includes and incorporates one’s body, soul and spirit. Therefore, it consists of not only physical characteristics but our thoughts, emotions, activities, deeds, and, most importantly, our relationship with God, our Creator. A person’s story covers his/her lifetime. Twenty-four hours a day. Seven days a week. 

When I see a homeless person curled up in an unrecognizable ball on the sidewalk, standing on a corner with a handwritten sign on a crumpled piece of cardboard, or pushing his/her life’s belongings down the street in a shopping cart, I almost always wonder what their story is: How did you get here? What circumstances in life brought you to this place and to this point in time? I do wonder.

There are some in this world who love proclaiming the details of their story to anyone and everyone they meet. You might hear about their world travels, the important people they’ve met in their lives, their very important job or position, and especially–how much money they make. They opt to leave out mistakes they’ve made, relationships they have damaged, or any of the other common failures of humanity.

We live out our story daily. And it’s in the how we do it that matters. The small, seemingly insignificant details make a difference: the clerk at the drug store who was kind and patient with the lonely, elderly woman in her motorized wheelchair, or the guy who invited me to go ahead of him in the grocery checkout line.

The fact is that our stories didn’t begin at conception or at birth. They began when God created each one of us in His mind, long before we had physical being. Consider that fact. He created me (and you) in the same way he imagined a rose and caused it to be! No other person—never, ever—has existed like me. I am one-of-a-kind, a rarity. Just as He told Jeremiah, the prophet, centuries ago, Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you.[1] . . . So it is with me (and you).

Take note when you’re describing an individual to another. Do you use words detailing only their physical aspects? Or do you express the kind of person they are, either in a positive light or a negative tone? Those choices may be a hint as to where they live out their story, from either their spiritual inner heart or only the physical outer shell.

When people come to the end of life, regardless of their age, their story is often summed up in either an obituary, notice of death, or a brief biography. In truth, for each of us, the story of our life will be revealed when we stand before God in the same way we entered the world: We came into this world with nothing. For sure, when we die, we will take nothing with us [2]

I will stand before God with a completed story, one that begins and ends with Him. What have I done with God Himself and the choices and opportunities He has given me? How have I lived my life?

Recently, I made funeral preparations for myself. I made decisions about a service—I do not want one. I chose my coffin—a plain pine box. And I purchased the gravestone—a small, flat stone with a rose in the corner, my name, date of birth and death, and the inscription “Lover of God and Family.” That epitaph is my story.

What is yours?  

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[1] Jeremiah 1:5 _NRSVUE

[2] I Timothy 6:7-9 _NLV