Stories

Last night was one of those nights where bed is the next logical step not because you are tired of a day's work, but because you are weary of the world and its sorrows. At 1:00 a.m., sleep was the last thing on my mind. My truck is always glad to bear my desperate prayers, always willing to contain joyous and private conversations of lovers, always glad to travel with me to a lonely place when no one else will. It bore me to River Road, where beneath the noisy flutter of flags in the wind, my pen wrote eight angry and confused pages of desperation. I was not mad at the sorrow and madness that had dripped from the lips of a friend; I was hurt for us all. I became the chief of lost causes, unable to hardly even build the Kingdom myself, much less raise the dead. What he confessed was not just his own sin, but the failure of the glorious ones to bear the cross in a loveless world.

But this is no surprise to me. The larger tragicomedy of history reminded me of this. Walking home I wanted to plunge every failure of us all into the lake. And then I looked up at a weathering building and remembered a friend. I smiled; what a chapter in her life this was! One forlorn friend, another rejoicing in the midst of pain. I knew their stories. I knew the one was fast asleep, dreaming blissfully, and the other was no doubt like me, bearing the weight of the night.

But then I remembered the Story, and its Author. Each human being is a story, a novel. Fantasy, tragedy, comedy, fiction, reality, sorrow, hatred, love, apathy, heroism, romance, godliness, murder, drunkenness, glory, myth, misfortune, sex, ambition, heaven, hell, family, unrequited love, lies, mystery, absurdity, humor, monochromaticism, drama, anger, death, joy, insanity, adventure. If any of us were to judge the entire person by one chapter in his or her life, what a flawed impression we should have not only of the central conflict to that life, but also of the conflict's resolution! So we all take turns in different settings in different conflicts living out these stories. Sometimes we don't know the full story because the characters in our story, well. We do not care to know who they are, the minor characters. They only add humour to our stories. Just a kid down the hall with long hair and a goatee. Just a wild man I don't know yelling playful insults at me to impress a girl he is flirting with. Just a bright-hearted homeless guitarist playing for money on the sidewalk at night.

But ultimately, just like in the great Greek myths, all are important, all interact, all have a part to play in the Largest of stories. Not every god or goddess, hero or heroine existed in every myth; but almost all existed in at at least two myths. Perhaps Daedalus should be in 173 myths. But no one cares to know about his significant interactions with other major events of the Mythological World. No one wants to know the other chapters that were so important to his story. Only, "What's your contribution to the Story?" And so we know him as a father with wax wings who escapted from a labyrinth.

The maxim, "Don't judge a book by its cover" is not less true than, but definitely less important than another potential maxim, "Don't judge a story by its chapter." The chapter of your friend's life may be sad and terrible right now; hear the story out. Maybe bright and cheery? Do not be deceived. While in this world, another chapter of sorrow will come. As a walking story, do not give up out of comfort or sorrow. Don't fall asleep. You have many twists and turns yet to go. Don't judge the final outcome based on this chapter. Let the confident beware and the hopeless laugh.

It looks a lot like carrying the cross is a lot more agony and a lot less glory.