Someone Else's Story

The kids and I are, once again, reading C.S. Lewis' classic series The Chronicles of Narnia. We're currently working on The Horse and His Boy, which I think is my favorite. There's a line in it, steeped in theology, where the little protagonist, Shasta, asks the great Aslan why he allowed sorrow and suffering to occur in his friend's life. Aslan's reply resonates in my mind, and echoes of it haunt me as I live in a land characterized by suffering. Indeed, I've asked my Aslan many times why such things should exist. His answer:

"Child," said the Voice, "I am telling you your story, not hers. I tell no one any story but his own."

I have to remember that or perish. While I can participate in someone else's story-- am commanded to--I cannot know the end of it or control what becomes of him or her. That belongs to Someone whose thoughts and ways are higher than mine. Selah.