Our stories are woven together one stitch at a time. Some stitches are tight, others loose. Each stitch adds a new color or shade, a new texture, or guide for the design.

 

Some would say that we are adding the stitches, but that would mean the patterns that develop are entirely of our own making. Some might say that others add the stitches or God Himself does, but that would mean we have no part in the creation of our stories.

 

Perhaps it is better said that our stories are actually an interweaving of stitches of our Creator, God Himself, as well as stitches that we also add to the fabric being created.

 

Though the patterns may appear random, they are made up of a collaboration of designs between God and ourselves. Some are purposeful and well thought out while others happen almost accidentally.

 

But all of them are important for it is our stories that we not only remember but also the stories that remember us.

 

We may think that others add stitches as well, but the fabric is always ours and it is our choices or lack of them that determine the weave.

 

Stories, true legends, begin in the midst of a setting, a context that tells us something about how the stories begin.

 

Some stories begin with “once upon a time”, but those are only the ones we call fairy tales, made up of imaginings.

 

‘Once upon a time’ stories seem always to have certain qualities and characteristics that pull us forward toward what we believe will be a certain end where the heroine of the story is rescued from the villain.

 

The trials of the heroine, the circumstances of birth, the twists and turns, which take her into danger, may vary from story to story, but the result we are looking for is always the same.

 

We look for the hero, the white horse, the one who makes all things right again.

 

Perhaps our own stories do not begin with those words because we have no belief we are royalty or that a prince has already rescued us. Therein lays the snare for us all, for the exact opposite is the truth.

 

We are indeed royalty, but have forgotten who we are (if we ever knew) or the truth has been hidden or stolen from us.

 

So our stories take us on paths that are often rocky and full of danger and we lose our way with no hope of any rescue. It is the tale the true villain of all our stories desires us to believe. It is the tragic fairy tale we come to believe is reality.

 

The true story is that we are betrothed to the prince, now king, who will come for us to lead us into the banqueting hall beneath his banner and celebrate his love for us and ours for him. The true story is that we will ride into battle together to defeat the villain whose lies we have believed once and for all and the end of the story will be grander than any fairy tale ever written.

 

Our stories are far grander than fairy tales for they are made up of real moments. Some are lavish and ornate. Some are dull and gray. Some are bold and dramatic. Some glitter and sparkle with life. Some are dark and foreboding. Some are airy and delicate. Together they become the history of us, the present of who we are, and the hope of who we are becoming.