The Story of Our Lives

“If you would not be forgotten as soon as you are dead, either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.” Benjamin Franklin

I watch the white stuff swirling outside my window while the gray matter inside my head does the same sort of dance.

There’s more time to think on long, quiet winter days, so I do. And all the thinking boils down to a single question, sending an unexpected chill through my core.

How do I want to be remembered?

I guess now would be a good time to confess that I have spent way more hair-pulling hours on this post than I’d like to admit. I’ve written and re-written and written again.

My delete button is starting to look as worn out as this crazy perfectionist chick that keeps pecking at it every two minutes.

So, enough already.

How do I want to be remembered?

Well, I know it will never be for my perfection. Not for my looks or my brains or my wit. And certainly not for any noteworthy accomplishments on my resume, of which there are none.

My life has been marked by undeniable failure but also by God’s unfathomable grace, and every breath I’ve been given is owed to the unmerited mercy of the One who made me.

So, if I’m remembered at all, I hope it will simply be for remembering Him. For surrendering my pen to the great Author who wrote me into existence. Because, if nothing else, I have understood one thing.

Only He can write the story the way it was meant to be written.

And if you think your memoir is being scribbled in obscurity, think again. God sees you. He sees each one of us.

He rejoices to watch the delicate parchment of our hearts opening to Him because He knows that all our stories, like all these snowflakes swirling are intricately designed, uniquely beautiful and completely unforgettable.

“all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” Psalm 139:16

Would you like to join me in making this happy song your prayer today?