Brittany Caldwell, RN
Minister, Natchez, Miss.
I love to tell the story
Of unseen things above,
Of Jesus and His glory,
Of Jesus and His love.
I love to tell the story,
Because I know ’tis true;
It satisfies my longings
As nothing else can do.
I love to tell the story,
’Twill be my theme in glory
To tell the old, old story
of Jesus and His love.
—Katherine Hankey, I Love to Tell the Story
I love antiquing. Whether you call it antiquing, thrifting, shopping consignment or my favorite word for this hobby—junkin’—it gives me life. The junkier the store, the better, because I feel like I’m on a treasure hunt as I dig through bins of random odds and ends, work my way through hangers of children’s clothing or lay out a tablecloth on the floor to see what condition it’s in. Whether I actually leave the store with a single purchase or not doesn’t matter; it is the opportunity to peruse these items—each one unique and each one with a story to tell—that saves my life on the days when my own story feels like it’s going nowhere.
My most recent purchase was for a wedding shower I was hosting. I went to my favorite “vintage market” (i.e. junk store) in search of a recipe box. I found an old, ornately carved, wooden box buried under layers of placemats in a China cabinet. When I opened the box, there were a few things inside: a button in the shape of a bee, a lock that clearly had been used to lock the box once upon a time and a card that said, “Happy anniversary to the one who completes me. Love, Joe. June 10, 1942.” There were also several pieces of torn paper which, when I pieced them back together, said “Happy Easter to my beautiful and sweet wife. I love you. Love, Joe.”
I asked the owner of this particular booth about the box and she said that she had found it at an estate sale and just couldn’t bring herself to dump out the contents. They seemed meaningful, and it felt wrong to part them from the box. When I got home, I painstakingly glued the bee and the lock inside the box, then “mod-podged” the two notes to the lid. It felt like a sacred act. This was someone’s story, someone’s love story, and it was about to be part of a new love story of a couple for whom I cared a great deal. The next day, when I gifted it to the happy couple, the bride cried, telling me that the couple’s one-year anniversary would fall on next Easter. She felt blessed to be a part of the continuation of this story. (Try to buy that at Target!)
Perhaps my penchant for old things with stories comes from my love of the “old, old story, of how a Savior came from glory, how he sought me, and bought me, with his redeeming blood.” In Luke 1, the author writes: “Many have undertaken to draw up an account of the things that have been fulfilled among us, just as they were handed down to us by those who from the first were eyewitnesses and servants of the word. With this in mind, since I myself have carefully investigated everything from the beginning, I too decided to write an orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, so that you may know the certainty of the things you have been taught.”
The Gospel is the greatest story ever told, relayed to us over the course of two millennia by the gospel authors and by a whole community of believers who continued to tell the story to one another. And the story is not yet done; we get to be part of the continuation of that story, a story of love and sacrifice, the conquering of sin and death and of resurrection and hope and new life. It is our sacred calling to learn the story and to preach that story in word and in deed.
May we take the time to painstakingly preserve our story, so that it might continue to be told again and again, generation after generation.
Pray, Practice, Ponder
Today, ponder how you preserve your story. Do you write or journal? Do you remember important people and moments in photographs sprinkled around your home? Do you collect trinkets or other items of personal or sentimental value? Consider how you claim and celebrate your story and reflect on how your story intertwines with God’s story of the healing of the world.