Facing the M&Ms

Alright girlies, are you ready for me to get real? Its time to take a walk on the wild side and tell you some stories from my tweener years. I don't know why I do things like this; you will probably never look at me the same. . . but hopefully the end result will be worth the ridiculous revelations!

I went to a small (very small) private school all the way through 8th grade. When it became time to venture off to our enormous public high school I decided to get involved in a group (can't remember for the life of me what it was called. . . Peer something?) that would connect me to other students who were coming from smaller schools into this high school of a few thousand.

It was a good choice, because I was quickly connected to some girls who became good friends over the years of high school. There was an unfortunate event, though, that has soured the memories of that group for me. You see, we had this retreat a few weeks into the school year at a camp nearby. I was rooming with one of my new friends, and as we laid in our bunks trying to fall asleep I blabbered on and on about the beautiful boy that I was totally in love with.

Oh sheesh, this is already embarrassing. Ok, so anyway. I was going on and on about this boy and all of a sudden I felt something strange on my face. It was like little pieces of the ceiling were falling down and smacking me. I stopped talking and listened for a moment. . . and then my eyes focused through the dark to see a vent right above my head. I heard laughter, and then (if you can even believe it) the voice of the beautiful boy calling out in mockery. The little "pieces of ceiling" smacking me were actually M&Ms that they were throwing through the vent, right at my face.

Have you ever been so embarrassed you literally thought you were going to die? I'm not sure how I slept that night, or how I survived the rest of the weekend for that matter. It was seriously traumatic.

But you want to know something awesome? I'm giggling right now. I think its really kind of hilarious that that happened. I don't even remember that boy's name (let alone the name of the group I was in), and this painfully humiliating experience is now nothing but a memory.

A story to tell.

A few months ago I was at a church service where Andy Stanley (a big preacher guy) gave a message about the stories of our lives. He talked about the fact that everything - everything - we go through, no matter how tragic or embarrassing or awful, will eventually become no more than a story we tell.

Have you ever been in a situation similar to mine? So embarrassed you were beside yourself? Or have you ever been so hurt by a guy, or a friend that you felt like you had nothing good in your life at all? Or have you ever been so frustrated with the consequences of a choice that you made that the guilt threatens to consume you?

Tell you what, girls. I can almost guarantee that we've all experienced each one of those feelings. As a friend who is a few miles (just a few, right?) further down the road, I can promise you that those feelings, and the stories behind them - don't have to define your future. You can choose to let those negative stories consume you, or you can cling to the truth that God's word speaks. . . You can refuse to be defined by the hurtful actions of others, or even your own poor choices.

So next time you are in a situation that threatens to unravel you, make this your mantra:

One day, this will be nothing more than a story I tell.

And then open your bible and remind yourself of who you are in Christ. Remember that nothing you can ever experience here on earth is confusing or unknown to your Savior. He walked through it all, and He promises to walk through it again - holding your hand and lifting you up.

You might be in the middle of something right now that makes my "beautiful boy/M&M" story seem like nothing. . . and the truth of the matter is that you might never look back at this particular bump in your road and giggle. . . But you have all the power in the world through Christ to turn this story, this difficult bump, into one that sets you on a better course; one that defines you as a child of God and a faithful daughter.

Don't let the world write your story for you, my friends. Let Jesus walk you through the story He wrote for you before time began. . .

Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;
you formed me in my mother's womb.
I thank you, High God—you're breathtaking!
Body and soul, I am marvelously made!
I worship in adoration—what a creation!
You know me inside and out,
you know every bone in my body;
You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
how I was sculpted from nothing into something.
Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;
all the stages of my life were spread out before you,
The days of my life all prepared
before I'd even lived one day.

Psalm 139:13-16, the message