What story do you want to tell? In Andy Stanley’s book Better Decisions, Fewer Regrets, Stanley challenges his readers to ask this question. He refers to this question as the “legacy question.” All of our lives tell a story, and at the end of every season of life, the choices we make eventually become a story we will tell. For many of us, there are stories we love to tell, and if we are being honest, there are some stories we would rather not tell. This principle of telling our story that Stanley discusses in his book is something my wife and I have attempted to instill in our children to help them make wise choices.

One of the reasons we don’t ask this question as much as we should is because we often like to focus on other people’s stories. Too often, we compare our situations to others, especially when we feel life isn’t treating us fairly. There is arguably no better example of this than in John 21. In this final chapter of the Gospels, Jesus is reinstating Peter, and He asks him three different times about how much he loves Him. After Peter repeatedly tells Jesus that he loves Him, Jesus decides to tell Peter the kind of death he will experience to glorify God (John 21:19).

You can imagine how initially troubling this might have been for Peter. We all know death is coming for us, but in this moment, Jesus made it clear to Peter how his life would end. Since Peter was confident that Jesus was the Lord, he knew what Jesus said would come to pass. Upon hearing this news, Peter’s first response is to look over at John and ask Jesus, “What about him?” Maybe Peter thought, “John is a disciple like me; shouldn’t he have to go through the same suffering I will?”

Jesus wanted Peter to follow Him and feed His sheep, but Peter wanted to know more about John. Peter’s response signals something that is true of all of us at times. We want to know other people’s stories! When circumstances are challenging, it can be so easy to look around at others and question why they might not share our trials.

C.S. Lewis illustrates this several times in The Chronicles of Narnia series, but perhaps the best example is in The Horse and His Boy. At the end of the book, the main character Shasta meets Aslan the Lion (who represents Jesus). Shasta had experienced many struggles during his journey, and in his discussion with Aslan, he asks why the other main character in the story, Aravis, experiences the troubles and struggles she does. Aslan beautifully responds to Shasta by declaring, “Child, I am telling you your story, not hers. I tell no one any story but his own.”

Prior to this response, Aslan helps Shasta see that it was he, Aslan the Lion, who was with him all along his journey, even if he couldn’t always be seen.

Both Peter’s and Shasta’s stories help us understand this important truth: God is with us in our story, and we don’t need to know everyone else’s story. We will all be held accountable to God for how we write our story through the choices we make. The problem with Peter and Shasta is that they initially miss what God is doing in their lives because they want to read someone else’s story. The same is true for us at times.

When difficulties come, we often look around and start comparing stories, thinking we have gotten the short end of the stick. Isn’t it interesting that we often don’t make these same comparisons when others are suffering more than we are? God doesn’t owe you or me an explanation for how He works in the lives of other people, and we would do well to remember Jesus’ response to Peter every time we are tempted to question God about someone else’s story: Jesus says to Peter, “What is it to you?”

How do we stay in our story? It starts by reminding ourselves of who God is and remembering what He has done for us. God is the holy, sovereign Creator of the universe. He doesn’t owe us anything. “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord in the book of Isaiah. After all, if God is who He describes Himself to be in Scripture, why would His ways be our ways? When I consider many of my own thoughts and ways, I am thankful that God’s are not like mine.

We also have to remember what He has done for us. When we look at the cross and what Jesus did for us, we see the details of our story in a different light. Comparing our story with others begins to lose its appeal, and we begin to think about how we can glorify the Lord through our own unique story.

I asked the question at the beginning: What story do you want to tell? Our lives will tell a story, and if that story is going to be one worth telling, we need to know the greatest story ever told, the story of Jesus and His glory, Jesus and His love.

Katherine Hankey was a Christian poet in the 1800s. She became ill, and as she was recovering, she wrote about her desire to hear this story. She wrote a poem entitled “The Story Wanted,” which would later become a famous hymn. In it, she wrote:

Tell me the old, old story
Of unseen things above,
Of Jesus and His glory,
Of Jesus and His love.

Tell me the story simply,
As to a little child;
For I am weak and weary,
And helpless and defiled.

Tell me the story slowly,
That I may take it in—
That wonderful redemption,
God’s remedy for sin.

Tell me the story often,
For I forget so soon;
The early dew of morning
Has passed away at noon.

Tell me the story softly,
With earnest tones and grave;
Remember! I’m the sinner
Whom Jesus came to save.

Tell me that story always,
If you would really be,
In any time of trouble,
A comforter to me.