I think one reason I love stories is that there’s always an explanation for why someone is the way he/she is.
Insecure girl, afraid to love? There’s a story about an orphan, abandoned by her father, left to watch her mother fall apart even as she tried desperately to hold her together. Or maybe something about a beautiful boy who broke her beautiful heart. Or something else about betrayal.
Evil queen? There’s a story about suffering and hurt – she wasn’t always this way. She started out good, just like you or me. But as the evils of the world and its people began to infringe on her space and her heart, she grew cold and hardened her heart, deciding somewhere along the way that the only thing she could do was to fight back with hate and scorn.
There’s always an explanation, incidents that can be pointed to to explain where and how it all began. It’s emotionally messy, but narratively neat. Things aren’t as clear-cut in real life. We don’t have perfect knowledge, self-awareness or memory. We’re stumbling through it all, without the benefit of the author’s all-knowing eye.
But I guess that’s where God comes in. He is writing our stories, and everything does fit together, somehow. He sees it. And He is good and trustworthy, so even though we don’t see it, we can trust that we are in good hands.
God is too wise to be mistaken
God is too good to be unkind
So when you can’t understand
When you can’t see His plan
When you can’t trace His hand
Trust His heart