Incomplete Stories

The impact took my breath, and for a moment I just sat in my car where I had been backed in traffic at a stoplight, and I tried to process. "Was I hit? I was hit." I waited for the driver of the vehicle behind me to come speak to me, check on me, but no one budged, as other cars zipped around us. My hand rubbed the base of my head, which was hurting on the right side, even along my right jaw, and my head felt funny---fuzzy and swimmy. (Probably should have had that checked out.) But operating on pure adrenaline, I jumped out of my car instead and raced to the vehicle behind me, not sure what I would find.

I could see her with her head leaned back against the seat, tears streaming down her face. When she saw me, she rolled down her window and asked, "Are you okay?"

"Yes!" I answered. "Are you okay?"

She nodded as she got out of her car, wiping her eyes. "Yeah, it just scared me," she sobbed.

Maybe I wouldn't have been so gracious had the accident been worse or had it occurred to one of my loved ones with more disastrous results. But the sight of this light-haired college girl, standing on the side of the road, trying to wipe tears from her beautifully slanted blue eyes because of a minor driving error that could happen to any of us, awakened every nurturing instinct I carry inside of me. My inclination picked up a kindness in her, probably a good student who tried to do the right thing. And there she stood, a head taller than me, sobbing. I couldn't bear it. I threw my arms around her and soothed, "It's okay! We're alright. I've got insurance. Do you have insurance?" She nodded and murmured, "Mmm-hmm," through her tears. "So everything's gonna be fine," I continued. "Don't worry. We just need to pull over to the side of the road and call for help."

I later discovered I wasn't as fine as I'd thought. The police officer had warned me I would feel pain in the coming days, and when it hit---WOW. A stiffness and soreness took over my whole upper body as I'd never experienced. My neck muscles didn't feel capable of supporting my head, and my right arm couldn't extend to write my name.

But she never left my mind. As I went through the motions of contacting insurance companies, taking my car to the shop, going to doctor visits, and waiting on x-rays, I prayed for her. I asked God to comfort her, that she wouldn't continue to beat herself up the way she was beating herself up that day, that she would move on and realize her worth, grasp the magnitude of the plans He has for her, plans that this little "bump in the road" could not throw off course. I drove more carefully every time I entered my car, knowing any of us could make a distracted driving error at any moment. But I felt discontented that I didn't know the rest of the story---how was she doing?

This is how I often feel when I delve into the stores hidden in the pages of my Bible. The story of Esther is beautiful---but what happened to Queen Vashti? According to the scriptures, it doesn't sound like she did anything to deserve being banished---she refused to flaunt her body for her husband's drunken friends to ogle. A woman ahead of her time. What became of her? What were God's plans for her once she was no longer Queen? What did the rest of her life look like? What was the remainder of her story?

Or how about Lazarus of Bethany? He had been dead four days---then was brought back to life. What was that like for him? Had he experienced anything during those four days when his family thought they had buried him forever? How did the rest of his life turn out? Did he ever think about the fact that, one day, he would face death again, with no option to return?

Or the paralyzed man who was told to pick up his mat and go home---how does a person return home after such a miracle? How does a man who had to be carried by four others simply walk into his house later that afternoon, possibly greeting the family he had previously been unable to care for?

I wish we could know their whole stories. I hope that Queen Vashti's life was filled with as much purpose as Esther's was. I would love to hear Lazarus describe what transpired during his death-to-life experience. I wonder how the paralyzed man returned to his house and a life he was not capable of living before Jesus spoke to him.

I wonder how the light-haired college girl is doing this semester, if she feels stressed over relationships or mid-terms, if she has moved on, if she knows how infinitely she is loved by the One who is love and how great His plans for her life are.

Whose story would you like to know the rest of?