I’m not a very good story-teller. All too often, I lose the plot part way along, and if there’s ever supposed to be a punchline, I never do justice to the delivery. Usually, my oral stories take one of three paths: one that’s never just the ‘long story short’ but instead has all the bonus features and extra scenes, or I can hardly come up with multisyllabic words to use in the telling, or they end up being pointless.
Several posts back I touched on how I can write 10,000 words far better than I could say a 10 word sentence, which is why I appreciate the space on this blog to do just that. You’d still have to work pretty hard to convince me that anyone cares to read it, but my kids do seem to find what I write amusing. Most of what I write, though it may be better than the verbal version, is still severely lacking in its engaging descriptions or compelling content. Encapsulating the ongoings of the family through composition is a feat I’m not convinced I accomplish well.
Have you ever tried to put into writing emotions evoked during a trip or conversation? Using words, can you accurately portray the most exciting or happy or discouraging event you’ve experienced to make it as real on paper as it was in person? How would you sum up your desires, worries, joys of parenthood in a short, yet interesting, and maybe even humorous, entry?
As a parent, you probably can understand the depth of feelings and thoughts you may have towards your children, especially during certain situations. It wasn’t just a car ride to the store; you were taken aback by the budding maturity that kid really showed while you chatted. It wasn’t just an evening in the living room; the hilarity with which the conversation was filled will bring a smile to your face long after the evening has ended. It wasn’t just an unfortunate event; it reminded you how essential it is to pray for your children. It wasn’t just a hug; it was your silent leap of joy at your teen’s show of physical affection. It wasn’t just a day of endless housekeeping and ferrying kids hither and yon; it was your privilege to provide for and watch over the offspring entrusted to you. It wasn’t just one sibling helping out another; it was seeing a servant’s heart and being filled with gratitude for the Lord’s blessing in their lives. It wasn’t just disobedience on the part of my child; it was a reminder that my sin is just as important to correct before I can model obedience and love to my Lord.
Like Mary, I try to store all of these things in my heart, and like a pseudo-author, I feel like a fraud as I try to write about them. All this to say that our Thanksgiving holiday was as lovely (and tiring and joyful and yummy and busy) as anticipated and that’s probably a plot twist you didn’t see coming. Did I mention I’m bad at telling stories?