Sometimes I feel like my life is a well written, masterfully planned mystery novel. As I go along through my life and have different experiences, sometimes I don’t understand why they happen, or I fail to see their significance. But later on, things click, light bulbs turn on, and the pieces come together as I realize that it’s all been a part of this masterful plot; this brilliant plan. The people I’ve met, the places I’ve gone, the relationships, the trials, the good times, the hard times, the things that I’ve learned and the things that I’ve lost have all been parts of my life that have been shaping me to become who I need to be for the future adventures in store.
I find myself to be the reader of my own novel. At times I can’t make sense of what’s happening or what will come next. But I can’t stop reading. I can’t sit in the middle of a paragraph and expect something to happen. I must move on through the pages in order for things to make sense; in order to progress. The author of my novel knows exactly what he’s doing as the plot twists, turns, and thickens. He knows why things must happen the way that they do. He knows how the story ends. If I strive to keep myself on the same page as the author, I can begin to grasp a small understanding of my story and find the joy that underlines it all.
My life is a mystery novel. God is the author. I am the protagonist. He will see me through to the end, and I must match my will with his. My story is one that is lined with truth, a testament of Christ and the Gospel that is alive on the earth today. The Lord is the Master of this story.