I have a story to share. Last week, following the pattern since our granddaughter was first born, my son-in-law Craig put Beks in her crib, kissed her good night, took her brother David into his room to get ready for bed, then proceeded to settle down in the chair with him for his bedtime story.

Like I said, it’s the routine. It’s exactly how I did bedtime during the epic 12-days I looked after the children in April.

Well, something shifted. Beks is eleven-months now and she doesn’t miss a beat. So when our daughter Naomi took a look into her room, Beks wasn’t lying down, but instead she was standing up, holding on to her rail, and straining every muscle in her face to listen to her daddy read to her brother in the next room; “The Children’s Bible,” “Go Dogs, Go,” “Goodnight, Moon,” or some other bedtime book.

So now the routine is read with daddy together (or Naomi sometimes). Beks doesn’t exactly follow along like David yet, but she’s very much engaged with the story and – most importantly – with the storyteller.

Fact is, there’s nothing like a great story. As Christians, as followers of the living way of Jesus, we are caught up in The Greatest Story Ever Told. And sometimes, as we settle in at the feet of Jesus,  I wonder who (like my granddaughter) is standing just out of reach, leaning in the direction of our story, straining to hear the words of their heavenly father?

You see, it’s not our story exclusively; it belongs to the whole world. Sometimes all it takes is a more obviously open door, a quiet invitation, or a conscious commitment to live the story out loud.

I love to tell the story of unseen things above,
Of Jesus and His glory, of Jesus and His love;
I love to tell the story, because I know ’tis true,
It satisfies my longings as nothing else would do.

I love to tell the story,
’Twill be my theme in glory,
To tell the old, old story
Of Jesus and His love.

This world is straining to hear the Good News – DEREK

(photos – great recent moments in storytelling)

It can be