Telling stories is as old as time.
It use to be the main form of passing information from one generation to the next,
and it was a gift, an art, to be able to tell a story with the correct details
as well as listen and learn and remember.
It was a gift that had been taught to children and used regularly so that it
was as important and common as reading is now.
Telling stories has become more of a pastime in our thinking now,
but I think that the skill of telling stories is so ingrained in us that we often don’t even
realize we still use the gift today.
The problem is we don’t have an audience,
so we tell stories to ourselves.
Add to that our busy and chaotic lives filled with so many distractions,
and a world that is filled with conflict and sin,
and the stories we tell ourselves become twisted and ugly, and loathing.
We take the suggestions made by others about what a perfect life looks like,
and we beat ourselves up with the stories in our heads.
One key element to finding happy, even in the busy chaos,
is to change the story we tell ourselves.
Instead of telling ourselves that we are:
not good enough
not the perfect mom
We need to remind ourselves that we are exactly who we are supposed to be.
That God has created us, in His image, and while we can always change our outward behaviors to improve our health or life,
we are in fact ALWAYS
I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.
For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.