"Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in Your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there were none of them."
We all have a story crafted by an eternal hand, and within the story are the smaller stories we live out in our mortal moments. When we share them - the hard ones and the beautiful ones, the frightening ones and the peace-filled ones - they encourage others in ways we hadn't imagined.
There are some tales filled with such grace and blessing, we long to tell them. But because they are not ours alone, we must carry them in our hearts. I hold a few. They are not mine to tell.
But perhaps it isn't necessary to know all the details. I could simply tell you we have see God move in miraculous ways.
Like the way He gave peace in the midst of the darkest storms, carving out paths far different from the ones we would have chosen. Or the time he took what seemed to be ruined and not only brought restoration but birthed something so miraculous it brought us to our knees. The countless times He has answered prayers - taking us by surprise when we should have known all along.
God is in our stories, even when we choose to snatch the pen out of His hand, waiting to write the pages He intended before time began. He can take the mistakes and make them right, the heartaches and give peace. He miraculously scribes our moments into a beautiful whole.