Once upon a time. . .

"Once upon a time, in a land not far away, there lived a beautiful little family. The father worked hard to provide for wife and children, but his favorite part of the day was arriving home to a clean, cozy little house, a kiss from his wife, and hugs from his three little boys. The mother read to her little boys every day, and taught them to help her as she worked.  The little boys were obedient, respectful, and polite, and got along beautifully with one another. Each evening they sat down to a hearty, healthy dinner and thoughtful conversation, followed by devotions and prayer.  They then spent each evening enjoying one another's company. They never wanted for everything, but had just what they needed. They all lived happily ever after."

Most of us have read fairy tales at one point or another, but we know better than to believe them.  We don't expect to happen upon a house in the woods that is occupied by talking bears, or to occasion upon witches who are fattening up children to eat on some future occasion.  The idea of trolls, mermaids, or talking wolves who dress up as grandmothers is recognized as silliness. These stories may have a purpose, but it is not to teach us that such characters actually exist.

But do we sometimes act as though we think the tale in my introductory paragraph might be true? I have to admit that there are times that I'm disappointed when my husband or sons don't act as I might have planned. I wonder if we sometimes think of people, even those we love dearly, as little more than props for the tale we want to write, and are disappointed when their actions aren't the ones we had planned as part of the story.

But if you paid attention, that introductory paragraph was missing a crucial story element. Do you know what it was? If not, go back and re-read, see if you can figure out what was missing.

Figure it out?

It's conflict.  There was no problem needing to be solved.  No difficulty to be overcome. There was no action, and no need for it.

Every story needs to have something go wrong, so that it can be made right.  Maybe it's an antagonistic character to overcome, or to become a friend or help. Maybe it's an unexpected dilemma to resolve. In any case, there is nothing to hold your interest if there is no problem.

Think about it.  Did you identify with those characters? Did something in you resonate, make you say, "Hey, I know just how that feels"? If you are like me, you might admire them, wonder how they do it, but you don't identify.  I'm far enough from perfect that those characters are more discouraging than inspiring. And I don't feel empathy - there is nothing in their life that calls for sympathy!

(Which brings me to a sub-point - don't be afraid to admit your struggles.  People don't identify with your "perfection" mask but they do identify with real people.)

We need conflict in our lives to spur us to growth, to encourage us to improve, to seek out fellowship, to change us from what we are to what we will become. It isn't good, nor does it feel good - or it wouldn't be a problem to overcome. But that doesn't mean it isn't good for us, or that the results won't ultimately be good.

The moral of my little tale? Don't be afraid of problems.  They are given for our good.  They should be faced bravely, with courage, because every good story needs a bold protagonist! And after all, we know that God is with us and if we seek Him, we can be confident that He will help us through.

And that, my friends, is no fairy tale.  It's the real thing.