How God rewrites our worst days.
Chad Bird on the gift of broken stories and the unending mercy of God in them all.

One of the most resonant gifts of the Bible is its chronicling of the worst days of some of the “best” men and women the world has ever seen. Scripture is filled with memorable figures, many of whom have the privilege of having their dirty laundry embalmed forever in black and white. As embarrassing as this might be for the Davids, Jacobs, Peters, and Judahs, it is precisely in and through such sordid stories that God’s grace stands out in such tremendous brilliance. This is why, I think, the Bible has been preserved as it is — namely, to rid us of the notion that we could ever evolve to a point where grace is unnecessary.
All those unseemly bits of Scripture are supposed to instill in us a remarkable dependence upon the God of all grace, whose capacity for mercy forever exceeds our ability to rebel. This is what the good news of Christ crucified and risen again for us announces. No matter how wracked with sin your biography is, the cross reverberates with the redemptive capacity that rewrites all of our stories. This is what Chad Bird says in his latest for 1517, the provocatively titled “We Need Less Goliath & More Bathsheba,” in which he reflects on his days in Sunday school, where he heard all the old stories about the Bible’s many “heroes.” Through the wreckage of his own choices, though, Chad’s wide-eyed optimism was soon replaced not by a jaded cynicism but by a total reliance on God’s grace.
Chad recounts his story of grace and redemption in his book Night Driving: Notes from a Prodigal Soul, the gist of which is the sprawling way that his story was rewritten in the grammar of God’s forgiveness and unmerited favor, poured out for him in the blood of God’s Son. In many ways, the cross is the divine stylus that rewrites all of our failures and disasters in the triumph of Christ’s resurrection. Here’s how Chad puts it:
All our stories, all our tragedies, all our downfalls are retold in the story of the cross. The blood, which spilled from the veins of our Lord, is the ink that rewrites our personal narratives. The account that our Father reads of our lives is the story of Jesus washing us, holding us, dying for us, rising for us, and living his life through us even now. It is the story of grace.
We need less Goliath, and more Bathsheba, in the stories we tell ourselves, our children, our friends, and our neighbors. Show me a sinner, and I’ll write you a story of a God who saves them. Show me a man with a scarlet letter, and I’ll show you divine blood that dyes that letter white as snow so that it stands now for “Absolved,” “Atoned,” “Alive.”
Show me broken hearts and broken lives and I’ll show you the God who’s never met a heart or life he won’t mend.
The good news for you and me, and every other sinner, is the fact that God is still in the business of rewriting stories — and there are none that the Author of our faith is incapable of revising and reconciling. Indeed, he finishes them in the “it-is-finished-ness” of his cross and empty tomb. Be sure to read the rest of this reflective article from Chad Bird. It is well worth it.
Grace and peace to you.
Amen.
Thank you so much for this. It came in the Lord's perfect timing. Living in this fallen world tries to keep my focus on the times when I fall short of giving my best for God. I pray He never stops using His beloved to bring my focus back upon the never-ending mercy and grace that saved me.