![]() Surely your goodness and faithfulness will pursue me all my days, and I will live in the Lord’s house for the rest of my life. These words accompanied the photo, nothing more: Our friends shared the photo of their little child gazing at the waiting jet through the floor-to-ceiling window of the terminal. It wasn’t their first time to do this.ĭid I say it was once upon a time? It was just this morning. The grave is not our end! Failure is not our ultimate lot in life! Pain and sorrow will not overwhelm His plans for us! These temporary setbacks are just that-temporary!Ī family waited for their flight to be called, on their way to serve God in a country half a world away from brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, friends and loved ones. I dread the future, bemoaning the past.īut how do we forget so quickly that He has plans for us, plans to bless and not to harm, plans that give us hope, and a future? (Jeremiah 29:11) I’m no better than they were, pulling my hand back to my side, following my own way. Only days before that, He had told them that they, strong and independent as they were-arguing over who was the best-wouldn’t enter into heaven unless they became as little children. Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” ( Matthew 19:14, NIV) He took them in His arms and castigated the Disciples: The big, strong fishermen shooed away the children that came to their Teacher to hold His hand and to be prayed for. How did I lose that? When did I decide I was big enough and smart enough to cross the road without my hand in His? We simply put our hand in theirs and skipped on, despite momentary disappointments. The thing is, as children we, most of us, believed our grown-ups (Mom, Dad, Grandparents, or whoever) had the answers and would see us through whatever was ahead. And, stuffed in with those has been a fair sprinkling of tragedy and pain. That said, they’ve also been packed with joy that can’t be diminished. Our lives have been full-completely stuffed full-of disappointments. He was also sure the Happy Meal would come when it was appropriate (and affordable). He trusted his father to do what was best for him. Hand in hand, we skipped together to the car. He might have been disappointed, but the kid never missed a beat. ![]() Mac & cheese with tuna patties was less than a buck for everyone in the family. We never hid the realities of life from him. Mom’s probably got mac & cheese and tuna patties for us tonight.” “I’m sorry, but we can’t do that right now. The smile on my lips fades, remembering my reply all too often in those days. “Daddy, can we go out to eat tonight? Maybe to McDonald’s for a Happy Meal?” ![]() With a smile on my lips, I remember the little boy skipping across the parking lot while he held tightly to my hand. My mind, as it does, turns back the clock nearly forty years. But I think we don’t understand what that means at all. Woven into the fabric of our history is the desire for happily ever after. They are stories that teach, and lift our spirits, and put us in our places.Īnd the thread that runs through our stories is one of seasons of trial, of wrong choices, but also of redemption and triumph. Stories of heroines and heroes, murderers, thieves, and liars. And, I do believe there is profound wisdom in his childlike understanding of life.įor all of history, from the dawning of time and the opening words we read in the Bible-our Creator’s version of once upon a time-we have told the stories. I don’t believe in fairy godmothers-don’t trust the forecasts of poetry-quoting wizards-and certainly don’t trust old ladies who live in houses made of gingerbread.īut, if you think I lightly dismiss wisdom from the lips of a 3-year-old child, you don’t know me at all. Once upon a time is merely the opening line of an impossible dream. Pandemics sweep over the world, leaving death, fear, and anger in their path. Perfect marriages morph into the daily grind of children’s diapers and household disasters. Dream jobs turn into nightmares with horrible bosses and backbiting work associates. We all know happily ever after isn’t a thing.Īt least, we think we know it. What if every page we turn in life is another story to be told? Another opportunity to see the hand of our Creator guiding our steps into an unknown future?Īnother chance to say, “And they lived happily ever after”? ![]() Perhaps they would be a little scary, but they would be fantastic, magical events and deeds.Īll the best stories. When I was a child, all the best stories started with those words. “Every page he turns says, ‘Once upon a time.'”Ī friend, whose name I never can recall, shared the delightful photo of her grandson, along with the above text on a social media page today.
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