believing the stories I tell

I had just barely finished a dramatic retelling of David and Goliath when one of the littles in my backseat said, “Is that story about Jesus? We wanted to hear a story about Jesus!”

I looked back in my rearview mirror and saw two pair of eyes waiting expectantly (the third pair was fast asleep) – they had asked me for the story I promised a week before and I told it with as many gestures as my driving could allow.

I breathed one of those desperate, silent, wordless prayers and said, “Yes, yes it is. Because every story in the Bible is about Jesus. This story about David and Goliath really happened and it reminds us that no matter how big the trouble or the evil, God is more powerful.”

I think I intended to say more, to give more context or connect more dots, but then one of the littles said something like this, “Because Jesus is powerful and powerful means that then He was died but then He was more strong and was alive and all the peoples that wanted him to be dead seen that He was more strong because He was powerful. And He was alive after the evil.”

I think if I hadn’t been on a schedule, I might have pulled over. I might have looked in that little one’s eyes and said, “Yes, sweet girl. That is what powerful is.” And as I said it I marveled at how much she had remembered from the previous week’s story about Jesus.

I fumbled around to explain that because God is so powerful and because He cares for us so much, we can be sure of our safety and hope in Him. We can be brave and courageous because in the end there is no evil that will overcome Him.

We pulled into the driveway and they ran past the baby ducks and into the house.

Then I turned my key to leave and not a single light showed on my dashboard, not a single sound of turning over from my engine.

“Hm.” I thought of three problem solving possibilities. They all included prayer. And I thought of David and Goliath and my insistence that we can be safe and secure in God. I took several breaths and turned the key several more times with the same result. I know that God doesn’t always keep us safe by the ways we would choose. And I was actually very prepared for Him to work out this scenario in a way that would push me out of comfort.

But, I kept praying (nothing really intelligible, just one of those rumbling soul pleas that you trust God understands). And before I gave up completely, I tried to turn the key one last time… and then I backed out of that little driveway and drove straight to AutoZone where they told me my battery and alternator checked out fine.

Spring is stretching to shed the winter and God is reminding me that He is faithful. He is trustworthy. He is kind and generous. My God will supply all my needs, according to His riches in glory – which are endless.

He will provide with an endless bounty as I believe Him to be my Provider.

2 thoughts on “believing the stories I tell

    1. Yes! However, I must clarify that these are not my children, but kids I transport for my job. My joy in the Lord is similar, though I do not have children yet, as I see them get curious about Him!

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