It all started in the most unlikely of places and with the most likely group of people.
Where all things begin and sometimes end, ten years ago, a small group of eager faith-filled Christians wanted to know more about God and so I was appointed to teach. I had never taken on such a task before, only teaching younger ages and subjects related to everything but the Bible. But here they were, and there was I. The appointed time, God deemed it necessary to baptise me by fire or the seat of my pants. Either way, He knew my stubbornness and so threw me in, feet first. And so unfolded an unlikely calling in the most likely places. I fell in love with storytelling.
The Bible is a fearsome set of books to read. Alive, moving, provoking or sometimes silent, confusing or simply out of reach. Yet in the ancient texts divine, are some of the most wonderful stories. Stories filled with people like you and I. All the emotions of mankind lay bare for all christiankind to read. Nestled deep within the soft pages, there are sparks of majesty in every line , the great truths of the God who spoke, ‘I Am who I Am’ and so He is and was and forever more will be.
In most people’s hearts, it takes a story to bring truth to life and thus began a journey of great discovery. In order for me to capture the hearts of my friends, I needed to learn, to read, to research. To be able to open their hearts and minds to the many biblical settings so that they could meet the demonised man kneeling in the sands of Garesene at the feet of Jesus. A madman, agitated by the dark storm the night before, that teased his senseless mind and cut his soul. He knew of the fight to come, but something or Someone made made him come running, a long journey from the lifeless tombs to the life-giving shores of Galilee. (Darkness Came Running) .
It also took much prayer and leading from the Holy Spirit. Only He can show the face of God to anyone humbled to see. My storytelling is vain fantasy without Him. Empty words falling on deafness. He helped me to see so that I could show. He helped me to teach what He needed to be taught. He helped me apologise when I got it wrong and He helped me to love, when I was lost for words.
The Storeroom is sometimes an echo of these evenings, but it is also a new place filled with many letters of reflection, reading and stories. Some didactic in nature, others simply questioning. There are varied themes, but most of all encouraging. I do hope that these will be a blessing.