An arc is defined as a continuous progression or a line of development.
Webster’s Dictionary
From time to time I like to read through the archives of my past writings. I have been writing in this blog for 21 years, which is crazy to me, and since it is currently January, it’s fun to scroll back in time and read all the January entries for the past 21 years. There are definitely some cringe moments in there — and reading them now, I shake my head and say “Oh, gosh! What in the world, dude?” Yet I am grateful — that I have changed, matured, got some healing and confidence and learned more empathy. Other entries remind me of the passion, the excitement, and the zeal of a younger me. There are common themes woven throughout, and it’s cool to go back and say, “Wow, that was a good writing! I am still saying / thinking / feeling that today.” It got me thinking about how how life is like a running narrative, a story arc.
Behind every good story—whether it’s a novel, play, movie, or TV show—is a solid narrative arc. Narrative arc, (also called a story arc, or a dramatic arc) is a literary term for the path a story follows. It provides a backbone by providing a clear beginning, middle, and end of the story.
Judy Blume
Our lives are a part of a narrative arc… an arc of life. There are moments where we discover our back story — the time of exposition where were are defining the story, figuring out the details of life, refining the characteristics of ourselves (the main character in the story, obviously). As we progress through this arc of life, we begin to experience the rising action — where the events of life and the choices we are making start to put our story into motion. We are figuring out who we are, where we are going, what we are doing, what we believe. In every arc, there is a climax — the highest point of the story, when so many plots, people, thoughts, actions, and moments just converge together. Often this is a defining moment in life where we make a choice that can (and usually will) change us for the rest of our story. We might face a truth about who we are. We might give in to an addiction. We might break out of our shell, stand up and say, “THIS is who I was made to be.” We make a choice. Whether it is a good choice or a bad choice, this moment is one we look back to and say, “THAT was the moment that changed me.” From then on, there is the falling action, when those high moments of conflict or victory have changed our trajectory and we are living in that new normal — be it good or bad. Finally, resolution is the end of our story — the end of life — be it tragic, epic, joyful, or peaceful. Often in the resolution, we see how our life has affected and impacted our family, friends, community, or even the world.
That’s a very limited explanation, since we all know life is far more complex than just a single story. There are so many moments, choices, and decisions that make up the arc of life — but the overall thought is that our life is a beautiful story, like that story we all know of a complex tapestry that looks like a tangled mess on the back but simply amazing on the front.
When I was a 5-year-old kid, my mom showed me Jesus and led me to Christ. As we sat on the worn plywood floor of our kitchen, she read me the stories of creation and faith and Jesus and the world beyond as we went through a picture Bible. We leaned against those orange cabinets and I decided in my simple child’s understanding of faith, that I wanted Jesus to be a part of the arc of my story. That decision, nearly 45 years ago now, has shaped who I was and who I became. My faith has been a constant in the arc of my story. I watched my parents live out their faith. Sure, it wasn’t perfect; it wasn’t always consistent, but it was so deeply held and faithfully practiced that their example tremendously influenced me as I grew from a young man into adulthood. I know that God has always been with me. A friend and I were having a conversation about this very thing recently on Messenger and she shared similar sentiments. Her life has been one of a simple spiritual faith of a young child to the deeply-held confident faith of an adult. I have never struggled tremendously with doubt in God because on most levels I always felt connected to the Divine. Whether it was walking along the edge of a dune cliff on Lake Michigan, on a quiet trail through the forest in upstate NY, or in the midst worshiping with of 25,000 people in Kansas City, I believed that this One, who existed before me, who was bigger, stronger, smarter than me — came to bring light, hope, and salvation to me and I could feel it. I have experienced supernatural moments that are not explainable in the natural, which leads me to believe that there is a Force beyond this physical world. This is not to say that there haven’t been “dark nights of the soul” — where I walked in silence — not hearing, feeling, or experiencing those Divine moments of connection. Those times are hard and confusing. We look around and see the world is dark and divided. We look around and wonder where God is and why doesn’t He come and fix everything that is so screwed up; why He allows horrible things to happen; why He doesn’t exact justice for all the injustice. I don’t have answers for that. As humans, we have free will. In concert with that, we have been given amazing teachings in the scriptures on how to serve others, how to practice love and kindness, how to speak life and hope, how to show mercy and give grace, and how to experience joy in the middle of suffering — and somehow discovering that it works in us a greater glory and joy when we come out on the other side. Learning to practice and walk out these teachings and share them with others is a part of our story arc that can change our home, our neighborhood, our city, and beyond. (Sing it with me now — “I’m starting with the man in the mirror…”)
The beauty of all of this is that as we start living out these Divine teachings and spiritual stories that we read about in the scriptures, we get to help the guy in Africa who needs feed for his cattle and watch him in turn bless the village; we get to support an adoption agency who gives a newborn baby an opportunity to be placed with a family who will love and care for them as their own; we get to offer worship, prayer, healing, and hope on a little piece of land in the Midwest and many are encouraged and changed; we get to give to a family who survived a tornado in a closet under the stairs, were tossed about in their home and emerged to find their home destroyed but they were alive and grateful; we get to sit and listen to a friend who is hurting and show love by just being there. We practice this faith day after day, in so many small ways, and we change the trajectory of the arcs of life after life after life. We practice gratitude and thanksgiving for the many blessings we experience every day. We are given so many gifts from the One who gives light and life … and in turn we pass those gifts along to others. We demonstrate this faith with our kindness, with our love, and with our actions of service. In the scriptures, James puts it like this: “You can no more show me your works apart from your faith than I can show you my faith apart from my works. Faith and works, works and faith, fit together hand in glove.”
So that is my hope as “I live, I move, and I be” in the arc of my life — that my faith and connection to the Divine would remain strong; that hope and peace would be hallmarks of my speech; that light and love would be evident in my service to others; that I would stay the course and. As St. Paul so beautifully encourages in Romans 12:12 — “My friends, be joyful in hope; patient in the midst of trials; and stay steadfast in prayer.”
As you think of the arc of your life, may you experience connections to the Divine in the quiet and awe-filled wonder that leaves you speechless; in the joyful expressions of song and dance that leave you breathless; and in the those moments of receiving extravagant love and unexpected good gifts that leave you filled to overflow with hope and thankfulness. May you move onward and forward and keep your gaze upward. Grace and peace to you.
Thank you for all your years of writing and sharing with others. It’s been quite the journey over the last 22 years of knowing you and calling you friend. Lots of ups and downs in life, but you’ve always had such a gift of encouragement through writing. Dave and I found a bunch of epic handmade birthday cards that you made for him so many years ago. It’s fun to reminisce and also continue to encourage each other to hope for the future and keep striving toward being more like Christ every day. Thank you you for being a friend (and all the song lyrics that go with that)!
Thank YOUR, Liz! 😀