The Quiet Story


Amy found joy in simple pleasures; her obituary began.

I was reading a stranger’s obit. A woman who liked to fish and garden.

A loving mother and wife.

A waitress who cared for people.

A homemaker.

Intentional or not, the writer painted a beautiful picture of a quiet life – the kind of life I believe God wants us to lead.

My friend Don encourages people to write their own eulogy and start most days reading it. I know it sounds morbid but hear me out. If our lives are a story and we’re the central characters in that story, shouldn’t we also be writing the plotlines?

I wish someone had told me this years ago. Too often I paid little attention to the story, not realizing that I was the writer.

My friend “Josh” is an alcoholic. He has decided that’s a plotline he wants no part of. Somewhere along the way, he forgot to take care of the central character. I’m watching with interest as he tears up the pages and creates a new story – a better story, one that would make a good eulogy, an obit that would make a stranger smile.

Amy wasn’t here long, but she found contentment in the quiet.

A line in the lake.

A new flower in the garden.

A central character whose story ended, but one we can look to as we write our own.