Story

Tell me a story.

Why don’t you tell me a story?

Once upon a time.

Once upon a time there was a boy.

Yes once upon a time long ago, there was a boy….

For I know you don’t like to tell stories, especially your story.

You like to get straight to the point.

You don’t want to set the scene, you don’t want to make a scene, you are not interested in the backdrop.

You care not for the background, only the foreground.

You are not interested in the past, only the passed.

For you want to pass through.

You want to pass, you just want to say pass.

You love to pass, line it up, pull out, zoom and you are through, in a moment in an instant you are through.

You care not from whence you have come, only where you are going.

You are not interested in history, only his story.

You look for the movement in the trees, the rustle in the bushes.

You want to come away, to be away, away from yourself.

Yet you don’t care for your story. You don’t want to talk about it. You have no love for it.

Here is how it goes…

Once upon a time…

Once upon a time there was a boy. The first born after the trauma. The first blessing, the dawn, the dawn breaking, the announcement of the breakthrough. The reclamation of the new, the birth of the new. The chosen one, the anointed one, the appointed one, the protected one, the blessed one, the loved one.

For I called a halt to that which was.

I announced a new era, the birth of the new.

The demarcation, the marking point, the establishment of the rubicon, the line of demarcation.

For I declared enough, I said to the devil “that’s enough”.

The point of intervention, this was the point of intervention, your birth defined the point of my intervention.

The establishment of the new, the breaking forth of the new, from out of the old you came into that which was new.

From the darkness into the light, from the pain to the gain, from the depths of anguish, bursting forth into the light.

In the place of immense pain, a new birth, the birth of the new.

For how you see yourself is not how I see you.

For you look upon your story and see much pain and little gain.

I look upon your story and see the origins of greatness.

Let me show you what I see, a glimpse of what I see.

The son resting in the presence of his mother, the listening to the great stories of the one who overcomes. Providing comfort to her weary soul, a gentle place to rest, a place of comfort, speaking words of great encouragement.

The son going out of his way, the son going out of his way for the sake of others.

You were always there for others, enabling their success, supporting their journey.

Your story was less important to you than their story.

You provided the means to their end.

Considered the chosen one, yet you considered them worthy of the higher esteem.

You are my choice. I chose you first. I say to you, I point to you, I say to you “come up here!”

Yes you come up here! I command you to come up here!

It is time to come out from behind the scenes, it is time to show yourself, the time of the unveiling is here.

You know not what to do, you feel uncomfortable at the thought, yet the leaders of the industry declare unto you that you are worthy.

You look not for the accolades, yet the award you value the most still rests upon your desk, “the overachiever award”. Given unto you by the one you held in the highest regard. Yet it reminds you of the loss to come, not the gains that were made.

Yet it is I that declares you worthy, this is not a discussion point, a point of contention, this is my point.

This is my story, I have determined the outcome, I has set the scene, it is now time for the main event.

The time of the uprising has come, the time of elevation has come, the time of your appointment is here!

1 Peter 2:9 But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a dedicated nation, God’s own purchased, special people, that you may set forth the wonderful deeds and display the virtues and perfections of Him Who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light.