Today, I suggested we share a bag of popcorn for our snack. Caleb was quite excited about a bag of baby bell peppers we'd just purchased at the store and said "I don't like popcorn anymore, Mommy. I like peppers and carrots now. I can't help it! It's in my story!" Giggling a little, I asked if he zapped the word popcorn and changed it to pepper - just like Super Why. With an extremely serious look on his face he said, "No, mommy. I just changed my story. In my brain."
It was a sweet little moment and in no time he was jabbering away about balls as per his usual. But the exchange has stuck with me throughout the day. With child like innocence, he changed his story. I would love to so easily change my story! No more popcorn, only peppers. I'd love to change my story from "Allison sat on the sidelines." to "Allison joined in the game." For a few hours I pondered and pouted over the story that never seems to change. Always the French fries, never the salad. I wrestled with what a friend said today "Sounds like there's an athlete in you. You just need to do it."
I have no answers tonight. I know I want to change my story. I know I want something different.
But there's one thing that has echoed in my heart with every thought of changing my story. Each time I wrestled with how I could change, I was quietly reminded there's One who already has. There's One who saw the story of a dead and hardened sinner, lost in her own ways, and changed it. He reached into my selfishness and pride and changed my story. Glory! Death to life. Selfish to servant. Victim to victor. And He's not done. My story is still being written. Every time I take the pen and write words that don't belong, He comes along and changes them.
I don't know what my story holds. I know I want to see change. But I also know that it already has.