When I was a kid, I was all about the fiction stories: Nancy Drew, The Hardy Boys, Trixie Belden, Grace Livingston Hill, and so on. I loved the mystery, and I also loved the love stories.
Then, I “grew up,” and life changed from the simplicity of childhood and teenage years into college, dating, marriage, ministry, and children. Somewhere along the way, I decided that “fiction” books were not worth reading. I know, I know. I sound so judgmental. I didn’t mean to be—I just thought I had outgrown this phase, and I needed to step up my game and read to learn.
I was reading books on ministry, being a better person, how to raise kids, making healthier meals, etc… you get the idea. I took life very seriously because I didn’t want to waste my time on things that were trivial and wouldn’t help me grow mentally and relationally.
The kids grew up, and then they did the most obnoxious thing: They left me. They actually walked away and left me. They had this grand idea of wanting to start their own lives in some of their own places and with some of their own people (people I didn’t even know!). It was preposterous, to say the least.
Then, we (just hubby and me—and our gaggle of miniature schnauzers) moved to another state. A state where I didn’t know anyone. Do you see the perfect storm here?
Yes, I cried, I complained, I whined, I cried some more. I was the world’s biggest baby. My husband loves me so much that he puts up with me, listening, soothing, and taking me to Ohio often to see everyone.
Of course, once we left, our kids decided to get married and have children of their own! Again–unbelievably rude of them.
In the midst of all of this mess, God began to do a work in my heart. I started a series in the book of James that I taught to our church during either the Sunday School lesson or the Wednesday night Bible study. When teaching one particular lesson, I began to describe some Bible stories. My imagination took over as I described exactly what some of these people went through during the time of Jesus.
Some were sick, some were possessed, some were poor — many were desperate. They needed healing. They needed deliverance. They needed a support system. But most of all, unbeknownst to them, they needed a Savior. And He was right there. Healing, casting out devils, providing needs, encouraging.
I began to see a side of Jesus I’d never seen before–His love, His care, His desire to help people.
And that’s when I told my husband, “I need to write a book about this story.” I’ve always loved writing, but I always thought I’d write one of those brilliant NON-fiction, REAL books. Ha! God has such a sense of humor.
I began to write, and the words flowed, and the feelings – SO many feelings. How the people felt. How Jesus felt. How the crowd felt. How the sinners felt. Whew.
I’ve cried when writing, sometimes feeling the pain, the hurt, the disappointment. Other times, I’m feeling the love, the kindness, the joy.
And then I stopped and asked, “How on earth am I writing FICTION stories? What has changed?”
What has changed is the realization of the many, many lessons that can be learned from fiction stories.
In fact, Jesus told fiction stories quite often. The Bible calls them “parables.” The word “parable” comes from a Greek word, parabolē, which basically means “to place beside” or “to compare.” In simple terms, a parable is a story placed alongside a truth in order to explain it.
The story of the prodigal son? A parable that shows us what happens when someone walks away from the safety of home. So many characters, so many pieces to that story, so many feelings. It touches us deeply because we can relate to at least one of the people in the story.
The parable of the sower and the seed? Another fiction story to help us understand how seeds land upon the hearts of different people and the results.
The good Samaritan — a story about how different people react to seeing someone along the side of the road who had been robbed, beaten, and left for dead.
These are just three. There are many more fiction stories – parables – that Jesus told to teach us important concepts. Because they are in story form, they are easier to digest and easier to relate to. Rather than a list of do’s and don’ts, Jesus wrapped it up in a relatable story for us. Stories with feelings, situations, problems, people. Our defenses go down, and thus, we learn. We relate. We digest. We remember. We think.
Yes, I feel as though I wasted a lot of good years trying to be so smart with non-fiction, self-help, brainy books. But I’m sure making up for lost time now, enjoying stories crafted from authors who have experienced life or allowed their imaginations to take us to new and interesting times and places to dream and feel and think.
