How to remain in the right story
Last week, I helped facilitate a residency at Divine Mercy University. Twenty-four men and women were gathered there, each in the final stages of formation as spiritual directors. The group included priests, deacons, religious brothers and sisters, and deeply committed laypeople from across North America. I felt genuinely honored to be in the room with such accomplished and beautiful souls—and, if I am honest, more than a little intimidated. A persistent question echoed in my heart: Who do you think you are to be the one teaching and critiquing them?
As the residency unfolded and these soon-to-be spiritual directors refined their skills through various scenarios, a common question kept emerging: In this person’s life, how is God’s narrative being revealed? And what is the counter-narrative of the enemy? A central task of the spiritual director is to help another recognize both.
When I returned, I reread my journal from last year and could clearly see both narratives at work within me. God’s narrative consistently led me toward freedom, life, and peace. The enemy’s narrative, by contrast, dragged me downward with voices of resentment, accusation, and dread.
With that lens in place, it became surprisingly easy to sort my thoughts into one camp or the other. One voice told the story of my life through the many ways I had been hurt, dismissed, or betrayed. The past became a tale of what could have been, if only… A constant refrain of not enough played in the background—not enough time, money, giftedness, energy, education, or ability—urged me to give up. At its harshest, the whisper turned cruel: You are old and irrelevant.
God’s story, however, was altogether different. It unfolded not in regret or fear, but in the present moment. It began with a voice that is almost silent, yet unmistakably clear: You are my beloved. As that story continued, I discovered a unique calling, with the gifts needed to live it out. And I realized I found my deepest joy and fulfillment precisely when I respond to that call and offer those gifts freely.
During the residency, both narratives competed for my attention. The enemy opened with accusation: Who do you think you are? That story second-guessed my decisions and magnified every perceived lack or missing competency.
God’s narrative was not as loud. But with a bit of prayerful reflection, I could see that my presence at the residency fit perfectly within a story God was already telling—confirmed by the gifts I was able to offer and by the quiet fulfillment I experienced while offering them.
In John’s gospel, Jesus says If you remain in my word (logos), you are truly my disciples. (Jn 8:31) Another translation for the Greek logos is story. In other words, Jesus is saying, “Remain in my story… that where you’ll find the joy of true discipleship.”
As you notice the thoughts and feelings moving within you, a simple and powerful question can guide your discernment: Whose story is this—God’s, or the enemy’s?


