A couple of week ago, I had a sick child whose needs were extremely high from very early in the morning. My toddler decided to even out the score by staying awake all through the night so I could also spend time with him. I only remember a flurry of medicines, meals, and unread messages that week. I didn't have a quiet moment to read my Bible or sing a worship song. Though my stomach was sick from exhaustion and surviving on coffee and peanut butter crusts, I knew, deep down in my sleepy spirit, this was the only place God woud have me in that moment in time.

I love to listen to people's stories and understand why they tell them the way they do. We all have a timeline, speckled with highs and lows. But it's the narrator, not the timeline, that tells the story.