A SCRIPT UNFOLDING

The old man who lived at the end of my street used to say that life was a holy drama, like a meticulously crafted play where each player had a role, a purpose, a script written by an Author beyond our comprehension. I was sixteen then, mostly concerned with surviving trigonometry and agonizing over whether Kristen Shuman would ever notice my existence. The old man’s pronouncements, delivered with a twinkle in his eye and a comforting cup of chamomile tea, were more amusing than profound. I’d nod politely, take another sip, and promptly forget them until the next visit.

Now, decades later, his words echo with a clarity that chills me to the bone. For years, my life had been a predictable and comfortable melody. Born overseas and raised in a sleepy Michigan town, I followed the expected trajectory: good grades, an honest heart, sensible reasoning, and a steady job. My mind had always had a strange, almost mystic, perspective on life. I believed that we weren’t just aimlessly wandering through existence but playing out roles in a grand, cosmic narrative. I thought about the Author of this play, a Being of infinite wisdom and love who orchestrated every scene, every line, every interaction. The world can be a cruel and unforgiving place, full of trials and temptations that test our strength and resilience. But I believe that it is precisely these challenges that make us who we are and that it is through overcoming them that we can grow and flourish as individuals. I have always been a student of the human condition, fascinated by the complexities of the soul and the intricacies of our emotions. I have seen firsthand the struggles that so many people face daily. I have witnessed the pain of loss and the heartache of broken relationships. I have held the hands of the sick and the dying, offering what comfort I could in their final moments. And I have listened to the stories of those who have been marginalized and oppressed, their voices silenced by the powerful and the privileged. But through it all, I have also seen the incredible power of the human spirit, the resilience and determination that allows us to keep going even when all seems lost. I have seen people rise above their circumstances, triumphing over adversity and finding hope in the darkest of places.

The Author, a Creator of Mercy and Compassion, wants us to do our part in making the world a better place. To work and provide support and resources to those in need, offering a listening ear and a helping hand to those who are struggling. To speak out against injustice and oppression, using our voice to amplify the voices of those who have been silenced. And to cultivate a sense of empathy and understanding in those around us, encouraging others to see the world through the eyes of those who are suffering. So here I am, on the verge of grey hairs and aching bones.

Looking back, everything feels different. I understand, at least intellectually, what the old man was trying to say. This isn’t about losing or gaining, it’s about surrendering to the grand design. It’s about recognizing that there is a profound intelligence directing the dance, an Author who knows the full arc of the story, even when we only see the individual scenes. It’s terrifying because I don’t know what awaits me in the future. The carefully planned, predictable script is ongoing. There is indeed an unseen hand guiding us, a master Author penning the most exquisite and intricate of plays. For the first time in a long time, I felt a sense of excitement. It’s a strange blend of fear and exhilaration, of the unknown and the unexpected.

We are all actors on a stage, reciting lines and participating in a holy drama, a beautiful, chaotic, and ultimately meaningful story. And that, for the first time, feels utterly and profoundly right. As I rise from bed, the birds outside singing, I step forward into my next scene, trusting that the Author knows exactly what He is doing, even if I don’t.