My imagination (I mean) for I have always loved them… stories!
My imagination soars within a story and has the ability to transport me, anywhere.
(And often does!)
One of my absolute favorite things about Jesus is—that He was a Master Storyteller.
He loved capturing the imagination of His audience, giving them a magical carpet ride on a vivid word-picture that would live on in their minds and imaginations, long after He had departed.
He knew. Everyone loves to hear a story.
One that takes you out of your ordinary ho-hum-day and transports you (just for a bit) into a world full of wonderous possibilities.
Young or old, we all love to hear them, watch them, live them out, in the games we play…
The Bible calls them parables—but we just call them stories. Fairy tales. Places where we can go in our imaginations.
Where we are the hero—the conqueror! The object of all things wonderful. (And someone else is the villan.)
So, I guess I should not have been surprised,
when to my wonder and amazement
while journaling through a barren place in my life I liken to Habakkuk’s Vineyard,
my Father should reach down with twinkle in His eye—capture my imagination,
and whisk me away into creation’s dance…
and a story.
… the which if you with patient ears attend what here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.
— William Shakespeare, Romeo & Juliet