“How did you get here?”
One of my favorite feelings in the world is when I get to retell one of the tough stories of my life, after having had it all figured out. When someone asks me the “how did you get here?” question, and I turn silent for a moment, contently sigh, and feel a quick flashback of the story’s entire phase coming back in the span of a few seconds.
I remember the times when I could not focus on anything for entire days, because I was busy being angry at myself for not having said the right thing or not doing what I should have done. I remember the nights I cried myself to sleep, wondering why God was being silent about it all; neither sending me messages nor helping me get what I (thought I) needed more than anything else. At the time, I hardly ever realize that my future self might be looking back at me in a couple of weeks and wondering how her younger self could have possibly been that naïve. Wondering how it felt like the end of the world back then, when in fact it’s all warmly making her heart smile because she finally realizes how awesomely God had it all planned out for her, and that if weren’t for that certain something she thought she had messed up, she would have never made it to where she is.
The flashback ends. I catch myself saying “well, it’s a long story…” and start narrating a perfectly written story-line without being fully aware that this is only my life, for how beautifully every tiny detail ends up falling right into its perfect place.
With my every “… and that’s the story of how I got here”, I find myself impatiently waiting for my next story, wondering if it could ever top my previous one. And every time, it flawlessly and thrillingly does.
Written on: February 16, 2016
