Remember when you were a wee kid, and one of the grown ups would tell you a story?
Perhaps it was at the library during story hour. Perhaps it was in your kindergarten teacher’s classroom. But there you were on the floor, looking up at the grown-up with a book in her hands as she sat in her rebounded by others just like you – rapt, entranced, hanging on every word, fully present to the story unfolding in front of you.
You didn’t get to hear the story unless you showed up. And you ALWAYS showed up, because the story was SO worth hearing. “Come ON, Mom!” you might have cried, dragging on her hand, trying to pull her faster to the story time door, “we’re gonna MISS it!’ Of course she took her time, because she knew you weren’t going to miss the story, it wouldn’t start for five more minutes, and she was catching up with Mrs. Gresham. But you knew what you meant. It wasn’t enough to simply be in the room to hear the story, no. You had to get there early to get the absolute best spot for hearing the story and seeing the storyteller, so that every magical moment, every capricious capture, every morsel of excitement would fall straight to you and you wouldn’t miss a thing.
The story was THAT important to you.
Nowadays, are you more like that child? Or the parent?
Because your life is the story, full of excitement and drudgery and an ever-changing cast of characters.
It’s the story of your life. And you need to show up for it or you’ll miss it.
I cannot wait to see what you draw forth,
