Resting In The Story

I’m picky when it comes to fiction. I love to read, but finding fiction novels I enjoy feels few and far between. I’m more comfortable picking up something “real” on a subject I want to learn about. Something on spiritual formation, psychology, or even a good memoir opens a window to see into someone's true story. I loved novels when I was younger, and somewhere along the way, I wanted information that would help me help others. And I suspect, at times, it made me feel like I was doing something meaningful and a little more valuable. It’s been a journey. 

Over the last few years, I’ve practiced reading more reflectively. No matter what I feel led to read now, I like remembering that the Holy Spirit is actively working to renew and restore me, even as I read. How does what I’m reading make me feel? What’s true about life with God in this? Whatever it is, it’s become more about how I’m reading, leaving room for God to take the lead. 

It's been nearly a year since one of my dearest friends recommended a novel to me. Last week, I felt a nudge to find it in my local library. “Hannah Coulter,” written by the contemplative poet farmer activist Wendell Berry, gives truths in story form that are ministering to me on my journey with God. 

The truth is, we’re all on a very particular journey that God oversees as He guides our relationship with Him and helps us with one another. So, even when an author writes a made-up story, it speaks of our human experience.

We all know healing comes slowly to us, and in my experience, a layer at a time. In the story, Hannah is no different. Her stepmother is now old and doesn’t remember much of anything, certainly not how her presence and way of being disturbed Hannah’s childhood. Truths like this can shock us out of our skin with the intensity of the emotion connected to a particular part of our history. How can they not realize? How do I forgive? After her brief encounter with this now old woman’s frail reality, Hannah experienced what she needed to. Wendell writes that Hannah awoke in the night and realized while she was at rest, sleeping, she was forgiving her stepmother. The realization felt so real, so powerful, that it woke her up! 

“My old hatred and contempt and fear, that I had kept so carefully so long, were gone, and I was free.” 

We tend to feel nervous that God will show us too much, more than we can handle, but that’s just it. We’re not meant to “handle it.” We’re meant to just keep opening up to our story and let the Lord do what needs to be done in us. Sometimes, we fear we’ll become too overwhelmed by acknowledging our pain, but the Lord’s healing actually helps relieve some of our depression. With great surprise and gentleness, similar to how Wendell surprised me with Hannah’s healing, the Lord reveals to us things we’re free to let go of now, forgive, and receive redemption.

David knew the Lord would sometimes instruct Him, even at night (Psalm 16). And, when the Lord did, David would awaken the next morning a little different. A layer at a time. Letting God do it. David experienced so many moments in his life, some we have no idea about, where God graced him with something he spiritually needed for healing and flourishment. We have the same opportunity today. 

When the Lord encounters us, it's often in the quiet but feels more real than anything else. He has no desire to leave us in the condition we’re in. He knows how much healing He wants to offer us in this abundant life we’re traveling in. Like this beautiful woman Hannah, whom Wendell penned with captivating precision to what life as humans is like, the Lord is writing a story over us and in us through it all.

So, friend, I say, let’s let Him... 

How are you listening and hearing the Lord in your life right now? How do you want to respond? 

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