“Every page he turns says, ‘Once upon a time.'”

A friend, whose name I never can recall, shared the delightful photo of her grandson, along with the above text on a social media page today.  I am transported.

Really.  Carried away.

When I was a child, all the best stories started with those words.  All of them.  I knew exciting things lay ahead.  Perhaps they would be a little scary, but they would be fantastic, magical events and deeds.

Once upon a time.  Perfection.

All the best stories.  Maybe, it could even be my own story.  Who knew?

What if every page we turn in life is another story to be told? Another opportunity to see the hand of our Creator guiding our steps into an unknown future? 

Another chance to say, “And they lived happily ever after”?

Ah.  But, there’s the issue, isn’t it?

We all know happily ever after isn’t a thing.
At least, we think we know it.  Dream jobs turn into nightmares with horrible bosses and backbiting work associates.  Perfect marriages morph into the daily grind of children’s diapers and household disasters.  People we have loved for a lifetime die.  Just like that—gone.  Pandemics sweep over the world, leaving death, fear, and anger in their path.

Happily ever after is a fairy tale.  Once upon a time is merely the opening line of an impossible dream.

We all know that.

Or, do we?

Oh, don’t misunderstand what I’m saying.  I don’t believe in fairy godmothers—don’t trust the forecasts of poetry-quoting wizards—and certainly don’t trust old ladies who live in houses made of gingerbread.

But, if you think I lightly dismiss wisdom from the lips of a 3-year-old child, you don’t know me at all.  And, I do believe there is profound wisdom in his childlike understanding of life.

For all of history, from the dawning of time and the opening words we read in the Bible—our Creator’s version of once upon a time—we have told the stories.  Stories of heroines and heroes, murderers, thieves, and liars.  They are stories of good and evil.  They are stories that teach, and lift our spirits, and put us in our places.

And the thread that runs through our stories is one of seasons of trial, of wrong choices, but also of redemption and triumph. 

Woven into the fabric of our history is the desire for happily ever after. But I think we don’t understand what that means at all.

Once upon a time…
My mind, as it does, turns back the clock nearly forty years.  With a smile on my lips, I remember the little boy skipping across the parking lot while he held tightly to my hand.

“Daddy, can we go out to eat tonight?  Maybe to McDonald’s for a Happy Meal?”

The smile on my lips fades, remembering my reply all too often in those days.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t do that right now.  Mom’s probably got mac & cheese and tuna patties for us tonight.”

He knew the reason.  We never hid the realities of life from him.  Happy meals cost three bucks.  For each kid.  Mac & cheese with tuna patties was less than a buck for everyone in the family.  He might have been disappointed, but the kid never missed a beat.

“That’s fine.  I like macaroni and cheese!”

Hand in hand, we skipped together to the car.

Happily ever after. 

He trusted his father to do what was best for him.  He was also sure the Happy Meal would come when it was appropriate (and affordable).

Our lives have been full—completely stuffed full—of disappointments.  That said, they’ve also been packed with joy that can’t be diminished.  And, stuffed in with those has been a fair sprinkling of tragedy and pain.

The thing is, as children we, most of us, believed our grown-ups (Mom, Dad, Grandparents, or whoever) had the answers and would see us through whatever was ahead. We simply put our hand in theirs and skipped on, despite momentary disappointments.

How did I lose that?  When did I decide I was big enough and smart enough to cross the road without my hand in His?

Once upon a time…
The big, strong fishermen shooed away the children that came to their Teacher to hold His hand and to be prayed for.  He took them in His arms and castigated the Disciples:

Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”  (Matthew 19:14, NIV)

Only days before that, He had told them that they, strong and independent as they were—arguing over who was the best—wouldn’t enter into heaven unless they became as little children.  (Matthew 18:3)

How soon we forget. I’m no better than they were, pulling my hand back to my side, following my own way.  I dread the future, bemoaning the past.

But how do we forget so quickly that He has plans for us, plans to bless and not to harm, plans that give us hope, and a future? (Jeremiah 29:11)

The grave is not our end!  Failure is not our ultimate lot in life!  Pain and sorrow will not overwhelm His plans for us!  These temporary setbacks are just that—temporary!

Once upon a time…
A family waited for their flight to be called, on their way to serve God in a country half a world away from brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, friends and loved ones.  It wasn’t their first time to do this.

Did I say it was once upon a time?  It was just this morning. 

Our friends shared the photo of their little child gazing at the waiting jet through the floor-to-ceiling window of the terminal. These words accompanied the photo, nothing more:

He leadeth me, O blessed thought!
O words with heavenly comfort fraught!
Whate’er I do, where’er I be,
Still ’tis God’s hand that leadeth me.

He leadeth me, He leadeth me;
By His own hand He leadeth me.
His faithful follower I would be,
For by His hand He leadeth me.*

The wisdom and faith of a little child. 

Once upon a time on every page we turn. Every page.

Happily ever after, too.

Today.  In this place.

Happily ever after.

 

Surely your goodness and faithfulness will pursue me all my days, and I will live in the Lord’s house for the rest of my life.
(Psalm 23:6, NET)

 

© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2021. All Rights Reserved.

*(from He Leadeth Me by Joseph Gilmore, 1862)