You are reading Reflections of a Survivor, in which I share my family’s escape and healing from spiritual abuse.
Other portions may be found here. May this story inform, inspire and motivate.
Is it Friday already?
It’s time for the flash mob of writing. Today’s word is story. Won’t you join the fun?
I always put a positive spin on things or so I’ve been told. I purposely put on these rosey glasses. I tell my story for what it is, God’s story. What happened last year is not the only things that belongs to him. It all does; yesterday, today and tomorrow.
When I’m living his story, I think of men who have lived it well and learn from them. George Mueller looked after thousands of orphans without asking for any money. Francis of Assisi gave up all his material possessions to live with nature and spread the gospel. Jim Elliot did not cling to safety when he reached out to a dangerous tribe. These men and others teach me how to live by faith.
One morning George Mueller met the children at an empty breakfast table. Rather than beg the Lord for food, he thanked God for how he would provide. A milk truck broke down outside and a baker arose early with a desire to make extra bread. The children were fed that day because God keeps his promises.
I learn from his faith, but I do not live by his story. It will be alright if a milk truck does not break down in front of my house today. Neither will I envy your story. I trust that God has written my days so that I will find him and there is joy in that. He knows just what I need to draw close to him. When the story becomes frightening or a little chaotic, peace reigns. Jesus calmed the storm, but later allowed Paul’s ship to wreck. He does not always calm the storm, but he can always calm his child.
That is my story.
