Unfortunately, the people bought into the worst-case scenario. In fact, they went as far as attempting to stone Caleb and Joshua. The people’s lack of faith angered the Lord so deeply that if Moses hadn’t intervened on their behalf, begging God for mercy, the Lord would have just plain struck them down. Instead, God forgave them, but the consequence of their lack of faith was that none of them would ever see the land promised to their forefathers. That would be left to their children.
And so they wandered.
LIFE IN OUR WILDERNESS
The reason I retell that story is that it’s not so very different from our life experience. Despite the miracles we see around us, much of our life is spent wandering in the wilderness. I’ve experienced many a miracle in my day. The birth of each child. The unexplained success of my career. The parking spot that miraculously opens up right near the entrance to the mall on Black Friday. But I have to admit that like the wandering Jews, I sometimes let the daily grind get to me and grumble just as much as they did. I forget to look up.
NAVIGATING THE WILDERNESS
As we make our way to our own happy endings, we have a lot of wilderness to cross. Some of the things that will help us navigate that wilderness can be found in the story of the Exodus. Here are some principles:
• Look to the future. We need to leave Egypt and not look back. Your Egypt is whatever enslaved you before you were set free. Each one of us needs to identify those things that enslaved us and turn them over to the Lord. Freedom is what He promises us.
• Accept the journey. Sometimes we are called to wander. For some of us, the Promised Land will not come in this life. I think of so many who are persecuted around the world, and some of us who carry almost unbearable burdens each day. Believe it or not, our job is to worship God in the wilderness. He promises that “those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint” (Isa. 40:31).
• Fear not. The Israelites tried to turn back when things got scary. We need to look hard at our lives. Is there something we’ve been called to do, but when it looked too hard or too scary, we turned back? I’ve watched so many aspiring writers give up when someone told them how hard it would be to get an agent and then how difficult it would be to land a publishing contract. Fortunately, God doesn’t call us to something for which He will not equip us. That’s just what He said to Moses when the people were too afraid to enter the Promised Land.
HAPPY TRAILS TO YOU
We may have many happy endings in our lives. Ours may be a love story with a happy ending. Our children may end up being jewels in our crown—the perfect happy ending. (Okay, there may be a lot of wilderness before the happy ending with kids.) Our jobs may have a happy ending.
But other things in our lives may be cliffhangers. I know some who had miserable childhoods, full of abuse; they never got that moment of closure with the abuser. Or some of us have lost a loved one way too early. We never got to see their happy endings. Our own lives may be cut short. I think of all the letters I’ve received from cancer patients who’ve read my books while going through chemotherapy treatment. I work with World Vision, an organization dedicated to caring for children the world over, and I’ve become aware of the children in Africa who are orphaned by the AIDS epidemic. They call those orphaned children “child-headed households.” It means little children huddled together with no parent and no adult caregiver.
Where are those happy endings?
THE ETERNAL VIEW
The good news is that this earthly life is not all there is. As French Jesuit priest Pierre Teilhard de Chardin said, “We are not human beings having a spiritual experience; we are spiritual beings having a human experience.” Our time on earth is just a small part of our lives. The happy ending comes when we cross over.
One of the best books I’ve read on life after death is Randy Alcorn’s Heaven. He simply takes all the verses in the Bible that refer to heaven and builds a clear picture of what it’s going to be like. Once you’ve learned what the Bible has to say about the New Earth, you’ll never view it the same way again.
C. S. Lewis, in The Last Battle, one of the books in his Narnia series, sums it up best as the children, Peter, Lucy, and Edmund cross over into the afterlife. He says, “But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on forever; in which every chapter is better than the one before.”2
So as you write your own story, keep in mind that this is only the cover and the title page of your story. Our stories will stretch out to eternity.
THE PREREQUISITE TO THE HAPPY ENDING
We are all eternal beings. Ecclesiastes 3:11 says we have eternity in our hearts. And we will all stand before the throne of God someday. All of our actions will be played out. I picture it as a movie screen, and I’m guessing that it will be terribly uncomfortable to have all that played out for everyone to see. But when it comes to the judgment, if we’ve made the decision in this life to follow Christ, He’ll step forward as our advocate and say that His sacrifice paid the debt for all those sins. It’ll be like they never happened.
But if the person standing before the throne rejected Christ, or didn’t intentionally seek Him during his life on earth, there will be no one to stand for him, and sadly, sadly, he’ll not be able to enter.
Just as I provide happy endings for all the stories I write, I long for happy endings to all those lost ones’ life stories as well. I long for a happy ending to your life story, too.
Storytelling Prompt
What will your life look like after you leave this earth? Can you describe your eternal home? Can you picture what it will be like? What you will be doing?
Altar Building
In the Old Testament, God often commanded his people to build an altar. The altar was a place of worship, a place to offer a sacrifice to God, a place to commemorate God’s work among the people. In most accounts of altar building, the wording is, “He built an altar to the Lord.” The altar was an act of offering as well as a place where offerings were received. The biblical accounts of altar building are fascinating. Noah built them, and Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, David, Daniel, and Elijah did as well.
As the story of the Bible—our story, really—unwinds, we see that Adam and Eve were created to be companions to God. He delighted in them and spent time with them every day. They were sinless until they decided they wanted more and reached out for forbidden fruit. The only thing God cannot look upon is sin, so they had to give up the intimate relationship they had with Him. They had to leave the beautiful garden and set out on their perilous journey back to God—a different kind of hero’s journey.
God was not willing to turn His back on them forever. He devised a way for them to be cleansed, and it came through the complicated sacrifice of an animal’s blood—often a lamb’s blood. This act of sacrifice took place on those very stone altars. Adam and Eve’s descendants didn’t fully understand that the shedding of lamb’s blood was a foreshadowing of the greatest sacrifice of all time—the shedding of Jesus’s blood.
Once Jesus came and died as our sacrifice, we no longer had to build stone altars and sacrifice animals. (Can you imagine getting that by animal rights activists these days?) We live on the other side of the sacrifice. All we do is accept the once-for-all-time sacrifice of Jesus.
In My Utmost for His Highest, Oswald Chambers puts it this way: “The heart of salvation is the Cross of Christ. The reason salvation is so easy to obtain is that it cost God so much. The Cross was the place where God and sinful man merged with a tremendous collision and where the way to life was opened. But all the cost and pain of the collision was absorbed by the heart of God.”3
We build different altars these days. The altars we build to the Lord are worshi
p, prayer, and praise. An altar is always a place where we intentionally seek God. My altar may look like a kitchen table, but every morning I go there to pray, study, and seek that intimate relationship with my Lord. Sometimes it is a place of refuge—a place where I go simply to be silent before Him.
Building an altar—a place where one can intentionally seek God—is an act that enhances the life of the builder. You may carve your altar out of the corner of a room, set up a place in the garden, or make a space by your bedside, but whatever place you set aside, it will become one of your favorite spots to pull away from life and offer the sacrifice of time with the One who delights in you.
“The LORD delights in those who fear him, who put their hope in his unfailing love” (Ps. 147:11).
Seventeen
AND IF HE’S NOT GONE, HE LIVES THERE STILL . . .
But whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.
—JOHN 4:14
In the last chapter we talked about the happy endings of our stories, but guess what? Our story is actually open-ended. We don’t type, “The End.”
Long after we leave this earth, our stories live on in the hearts, and sometimes in the hands, of others. There are so many ways to tell your story.
MEMORIES
Many of our stories will be told, after we are gone, in the memories of those we touched. Think of your own memories. Do you remember spending time with your grandmother? I’m very intentional in spending time with my grandchildren. I want to be sure they have many happy memories of me.
A few years back I took my three granddaughters to New York City, where we shared one bathroom for the four of us. My turn finally came—ten minutes of pure, uninterrupted peace, at last! I climbed into the shower. I wasn’t in there one minute before Jazmine knocked at the door. “Grandma, I need to get something.” Another knock, Maddie: “Sorry, Grandma, I have to go.” Knock, knock . . . Bailey came in: “Everyone’s in here; I was lonely.”
It’s those kinds of memories we look back on with laughter. After I’m gone, I pray my children and grandchildren will remember me as available to them no matter what. I believe building memories with my grandchildren is so important to me because I don’t have any memories of my grandmothers. Both died before I had the opportunity to know them. And yet they are very much a part of me. My love of craft came from my paternal grandmother. My older cousins tell stories of watching her crochet in her rocking chair, rocking away, asleep and snoring but never missing a stitch. I, unfortunately, missed seeing that, but I was the one who inherited a love of yarn. My maternal grandmother was a wonderful cook who was able to create amazing meals with limited resources in the heart of the Great Depression. A little bacon grease, a few potatoes and other vegetables, and she managed to put together a feast.
ACTS OF KINDNESS
Hopefully we’ll be remembered for our acts of kindness. My friend told me about the funeral of a timid bachelor farmer in her church. When the pastor asked if anyone had something they’d like to share about him, she worried that no one would have anything to say. He was so quiet. So unassuming. But one person after another came to the front to tell stories of his generosity. They spoke of how he helped others survive financially when they were at their lowest point. They told of how he’d helped them get their harvest in when rain threatened. He loaned equipment when needed, or paid a doctor’s bill. He signed for a loan, invested in a business, purchased groceries, and mowed the lawn of an invalid. The memories went on. No one had known about any of these acts, and everyone realized that it wasn’t until that day that a picture of the real man emerged.
LETTERS
In this digital age I wonder if we’re losing too much of our correspondence. Letters have always been a wonderful way to leave a bit of ourselves behind. Some of the autographs I collect come at the bottom of a letter or a piece of correspondence. Letters are such personal things.
Like the letter J. R. R. Tolkien sent to his son, Christopher Tolkien, on October 25, 1944. He wrote:
Dearest man,
Here is a little more of “the Ring” for your delectation (I hope) and criticism . . . . Two more chapters to complete the “Fourth Book” and then I hope to finish the “Fifth” and last of the Ring. I have written a long airletter today, and shall write again (of course) before your birthday. I’m afraid this little packet won’t get to you in time for it . . . . God bless you, beloved. Do you think “The Ring” will come off, and reach the thirsty?
Your own Father1
A letter like that, filled with love, showing the heart of the letter writer, is priceless. Especially when the letter is by an author we revere and about a story we love.
I receive hundreds of reader letters. These are important to me, and I make them a priority. Each letter that comes into my office is answered. So many of the letters and comments on my online guestbook are personal and heartfelt. I keep these, and sometimes share them with Wayne and others in the publishing house or in my office. I do this because without Wayne’s encouragement and support I would never have been able to achieve my dream of being a published author. The ones I share with my editor are special as well. My editor has often put many hours into a project. When readers praise me, they are also praising her work on the book, and she deserves to know that her efforts are appreciated.
JOURNALS
As you surely know by now, I’m a huge proponent of journaling. I’ve kept a journal or a diary ever since the time I could first write. I often tell the story about how my brother and two of my cousins made copies of my diary and sold it to the boys in my eighth-grade class. (It was my first bestseller, unfortunately.)
Over the years I’ve used my journals to record my life and to work out my struggles, to talk to God. I pour out my joys and anxieties on the empty white pages. I’ve been unflinchingly honest, so I’m not sure whether these journals will be handed down to my children or burned upon my passing. But for me they’ve been a way to work out my life, to know what I’m thinking and to see how God is working through me. I can look back on them and see His fingerprints on every page. A journal gives us a long view of life. A bird’s-eye view.
Many journals have become treasured parts of our literature. I think of the diary of Anne Frank. Anne was so transparent, so vulnerable on the pages of her diary. I’m sure she never intended anyone but her imaginary Kitty to read it, but with her diary she personalized the Holocaust. On Tuesday, March 7, 1944, she wrote, “Beauty remains, even in misfortune. If you just look for it, you discover more and more happiness . . . . A person who has courage and faith will never die in misery!”2
PHOTOGRAPHS
Our photographs capture memories and portray places far better than words can. How many times have you pored over a box of fading photographs, wondering about the lives of those pictured? One of the things almost all of us intend to do is be more intentional about photographs—writing the names of people and places and dates on the backs. Otherwise, as time goes on, memories fade, and soon it will be difficult to place the details.
The practice of scrapbooking has remedied that for many. The scrapbooks I’ve seen combine words and photos artfully, telling a complete story. These will be treasured for generations.
And now, creating digital books has become easy and relatively inexpensive. Almost anyone can go to a Web site, upload photos, and create a beautiful printed book of personal photographs for a relatively modest price. It’s a great way to tell your story in a photojournalistic way.
RECIPES
Food is an important part of my life. I love to cook, and I love to feed people. Okay, I’ll admit it, I’m a foodie. I’ve long collected recipes, created recipes, and shared recipes with readers and friends. One of my favorite things is to find an interesting new recipe and head to the kitchen to try it out. I have recipes from my mother, my aunts, my grandmother, dear friends, and my children. My recipe box holds
memories of food, people, and great occasions. It’s definitely part of my story.
I have a friend whose octogenarian mother spent a whole year typing out the family recipes, copying them, and putting them into beautiful binders, one for each member of the family. The recipe pages are filled with pithy sayings and notes about when the family used to enjoy a particular recipe. Now that she is gone, her family treasures those books.
CREATIVE WORKS
The work of your hands becomes an important legacy as well. When I’m knitting, I spend most of that time thinking about and praying for the person who will receive the sweater, vest, scarf, or hat. Just a week before I wrote this, Cindy DeBerry, a dear friend of mine from school days, died. I couldn’t attend the funeral because I was away at a conference. But other friends who went told me that Cindy was buried with the sweater I knit for her. To me, knitting and loving are intertwined. Creating lovely handcrafted pieces is one way I express love.
It’s the same with so many pieces of needlework. Quilts fascinate me. So many of them tell a story. If you are a quilter, you are telling your story with every piece and each stitch. Whatever you create, it’s part of your legacy. We need to make sure our children and grandchildren understand some of what goes into our creations so they can appreciate the legacy even more.
THE GREATEST STORY OF ALL
Throughout the pages of this book we’ve talked about Story. We’ve taken it apart and looked at the individual parts that make it up. I’ve shared how I write my books and how I tell stories, and we’ve looked at your own story. I’ve encouraged you to tell your story—to look at your life as one grand adventure and to see God’s hand on your life and in your story.
Once Upon a Time: Discovering Our Forever After Story Page 14