There is within me a storyteller.
She rises on the wings of the dawn and settles on the far side of the sea.
She is life giving to life.
She is a stream in the dessert and a flower that grows from a rock.
I visit her unendingly and she holds me in the gaze of God.
She transports me to a realm other than my own;
A realm inviting me to hope, unfolding in stories.
They rise inside of me like ocean waves with new breath for life.
Just as Jesus does, sometimes she says and shows me strange things.
Things my mind cannot comprehend but my soul knows are true as it leaps like the quickening of a child in the womb.
Things that rivet my heart to remind me that there is a river that makes glad and truth that is eternal.
I love the storyteller. She makes me laugh and cry and feel deeply the resonance of love.
She is a river in my heart that never tires with life.
And so I am like a little fox emerging from the camouflage of my life to sit quietly by her waters and listen deeply to the sound of her voice.
Sometimes she too sits quietly with me, as visions dance before our eyes on the Sacred Winds of time.
It’s funny how the soul knows things the rational mind does not.
If you gave me a theological explanation or a scientific proof, my mind would drink those up, but in the end, they do not deliver the life that the storyteller has given to me.
The soul has a different language all its own.
It dances with rhythm and music.
It sings just for the joy of singing.
It becomes alive when stories are told.
It breaths deep at the sight of wonder.
It sees visions of heaven and dreams given in the night.
It leaps when words become poetry.
It weeps when life becomes brutal.
It drinks from the sacred wells that transcend time.
The soul loves stories
It’s curious how the soul will remember a story far longer than a theological of scientific exposition.
But stories, they etch themselves on the deep caverns of our minds and weave themselves into the fabric of our lives.
Stories give me life.
I love stories.
I wonder about you?