Last night, a friend drove up from Indy, and we drove into Chicago to see Hamilton. I hadn’t driven in downtown Chicago in a few years, but all went well! As I sat in the theater, I found myself caught up not just in the music or the history, but in the questions it asks. Why do you write like you’re running out of time? Are you willing to do what it takes? What is a legacy? (“It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see.”).
But near the end, there’s a more haunting question that lingers long after the curtain falls:
“Who lives, who dies, who tells your story?”
It’s a striking question. And, perhaps surprisingly for a play that quotes a fair amount of Scripture but doesn’t demonstrate any of it in practice, a deeply spiritual one.
The truth is, whether we think about it often or not, we’re all telling a story with our lives. Decisions, relationships, words, priorities … they’re all part of the narrative that others will remember about us.
And yet, the musical also hints at something else: some of our story is beyond our control. As much as we might want to make it so, what we intended is not always what is remembered. We can’t control everything about life. The story we try to write for ourselves doesn’t always turn out the way we planned.
So, what do we do? What happens when we get it wrong?
Scripture offers a different way of thinking about it. The psalmist writes, “God, my times are in your hands.” (Psalm 31:15)
That’s not giving up or not trying, but it is deep trust. It’s the acceptance that while we can write part of our story, God is writing a bigger and better story … and we’re invited to participate in that story. God is the ultimate author … we just get some creative input along the way.
This is good news. It means our failures don’t have the final word.
It means our unfinished chapters are not the end. It means grace has a way of rewriting what we thought was permanent.
And perhaps most importantly, it means that the truest story about our lives is not the one others tell about us—but the one God tells.
When the unbeliever “preaches” (even through a musical like Hamilton), they often ask questions. The Gospel offers answers.
What a great answer to a simple question. “Who tells your story?” God will. You will not be forgotten, because God cannot forget. Your story will not be incomplete, because God will complete it. You cannot be the villain, because God’s forgiveness erases every failing and failure. Your life is woven into a much larger story that is the greatest love story of all time … and it doesn’t end with a famous (or infamous) duel and death, but with eternal life.
Prayer: Faithful God, thank you that my life is held in your hands.
Where I try to control the story, teach me to trust you. And where my story feels unfinished or uncertain, remind me that your grace is still writing. Amen.
