stories

So I was driving with my friend Leslie and she told me how a man at our church made an observation. The observation was about my generation and how we have no history. Of course, this is not true. We all have stories. He just doesn't know them. In the past three years, this man has seen an influx of young adults flock to his church. Before, this church was mostly made up of families. Families who stayed. This man knows that man's son. He knows when he was a little kid making his parents crazy. He remembers the child's baptism. He remembers when the child doubted and when he came back "home". He went to his wedding last week. My church is filled with these families. It is one of the reasons I wanted to worship there. These people knew each other and have known each other. Grown children sit with their moms and dads- and not because its proper. This is attractive- stories are attractive.

I don't think this man was saying that I did not have a story- but I do think he percieves something very real about us- the twenty somethings. We move. alot. Perhaps because we can. Perhaps because we left home and we don't know how to go back- so we wander around hoping we can make a new one.

So I guess the question I have is, what is home? The movie Garden State would say that Natalie Portman was home. It was the relationship that took away Large's homesickness- not the place, not the physical house where he grew up- not even his childhood friends- not even God.

The bible says I am a stranger. a soujourner. that my home is in heaven. The bible also says that I have a story- knit in my mother's womb. I am not just some meandering soul waiting for Jesus. I am created with a story. My actions are not arbitrary- but real lived out drama. The things that I do matter- they matter if only for the sole purpose that God delights in them.


I do not know why we wander. I wish that man at my church knew our stories. Perhaps we should learn to share them better.