A Story's Stalling Point

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking over the past few months. I honestly can’t tell you exactly what’s on my mind just that something is missing. I don’t feel directionless; in fact I have a direction, ambition, and goals I hope to obtain. I know where I want to go, just not sure how to get there. Not sure what horizon I want to set my nose towards and go.


I have read and reread Don Miller’s A Million Miles in a Thousand Years these past few days. I have come to the conclusion that it is easier for a single person to create a story and live it without much of a problem (aside from being lazy) but for a person with a family it is a little more difficult because your story is not the only one being told. There are at least three stories taking place in a married person’s life: 1) their own 2) their spouse’s 3) theirs as a family; three stories with two being told individually and those two stories coming together as one story. Add in children and then you have four or more stories taking place at once.

My struggle at this point is trying to figure out how my story, Lacy’s story, and our story as a family (Connor is not at the story telling age yet) exist as one. When it was just the two of us, it was easy to do but Connor adds a different variable in the equation. No longer do our individual stories concern ourselves but they concern another individual. Lacy has found a new ambition for herself. She’s decided to go to Graduate School. She has applied and we are waiting on things to be finalized before making an announcement but she finally has an ambition, goal, story of her own to tell. For me, I’m in the lull between stories. I completed my epic story this past May by earning a Masters of Divinity from the Baptist Theological Seminary in Richmond. Now, I feel as though I am floating, looking for the next story to dive into while Lacy prepares to dive head first into her own.

Please understand what I am writing. I’m not writing negatively about the three stories taking place. The third story (our story as a family) has always come together and weaved in and out of our individual stories. I am not advocating for one joint either. Lacy and I are individuals who live and exist as a couple. Connor lives as an individual but exists as a part of our family. Our family functions together while functioning separately. We each lead separate lives but our lives our lived together. We tell separate stories but our stories are told together.

As I think about my story and my place in Lacy’s new story I am finding myself resting in the presence of God. It’s a weird feeling because I feel content. I feel anxious about a few things because there are smaller stories taking place within the church. I spent the past four years building up and tearing down my faith to only rebuild it stronger, wiser, and with more grace. Seminary was my story in which I suffered by seeking after God’s vision, God’s call and my place in this world (cue Michael W. Smith). I am not at that place where I desire or need God to give me a vision. I do not need another story to keep me going but I am at that place where I am getting restless waiting for another epic story to begin.