the migrant wife

I’ve always been drawn to little and inconsequential things – stories of ordinary people, not changing the world, nor going through any dramatic transition, just letting life and all its colourful ideas (or tragic happenstance) come and pass. I adore also the stories where more ink is spilled over the leaves, the petals, the soil, the wrinkles, the smells, the cushions, the linen, the food (oh, the FOOD!), than what they were doing. I suppose that is what makes stories so real, so relevant. The vastness and variety of observation unite the two people, reader and character, in a shared sense of “smallness” – a safety blanket that wraps around you comfortingly in a cocoon of contented insignificance. At least, I would hope every story mattered to someone – or it wouldn’t be a story worth telling at all – not in the way of life changing grandeur, but that of a still, steady courage (faithfulness?), of an unwavering and invisible commitment to Love and Light.

Maybe I’m over-romanticising the mundane? melodramatic? maybe I’m just totally jaded after all the unlikely heroics and the vain (and slightly selfish) promises of success and fame every two minutes? But, I might ask, what are stories if not for soothing the soul in rough places, or for offering a sliver of sympathy in a way that frankly nobody else can? Maybe I’m reading a little too much (read: escaping into a made belief world as a form of coping) and becoming a slight book snob, sorry.

My inconsequential life has been filled with rather consequential joy. Soaked with Light and Life, my minutes and hours have trickled on, intermingled with candles lit for one, moments of silence seeped with words that set the heart alight, flowers arranged just for the sake of beauty and delight. I have learnt to treasure the insignificant moments. Stories are what shapes our lives, just as our lives forms the stories we tell ourselves and our children. Being insignificant isn’t an excuse to not have a great story – for we have a great Storyteller who excels at using small, forgotten people, who loves those who have themselves forgotten the sensation of human touch. The Storyteller weaved together a story of insignificant foreigners, outcasts, the broken, the widowed, the hurting, only to bind them all in Love and Beauty. It’s not a small thing then to enter into our smallness, if only there our hearts are soothed by His comforting presence.

Lately I have toyed with the idea of doing a series about the “small people” of the Bible. Perhaps it’s time we revisited these small people and learn from their small stories – which the Lord saw fit to include in His great Story of redemption!!