You see, I only know my story of what Jesus did for me. So I picked up His word and I began to read. The Bible is such an intimate story and it never fails to touch me in places that I didn't know existed. One moment it exposes my flaws while simultaneously applying a soothing balm to quiet my grieving, angry spirit.
I see myself in the faces of the crowd as they praised Jesus with palm branches. That's me standing beside the woman with the issue of blood, although my issues were of a completely different nature. I was also in the crowd screaming "Crucify" because I could not bear the thought of the "nature" of my issues becoming public knowledge. I find myself as both the wayward son described in Luke as well as Onesimus, the slave whom Paul so valiantly defended.
I see myself and that bothers me.
So I don't know yet, what I am going to share, but I know this for sure. It will be my story, perhaps wrapped in a different way, but still the story of how Jesus Christ met me in the midst of my denying him and loved me.
Once upon a time ........... and for all time ..........that's my story!