Story for Five Minute Friday

Story, really; a story... Like I don't have hundreds. Five sons, seven grandchildren, two on the way. Two grandchildren, permanent members of my almost empty empty nest. The nest my husband and I painstakingly constructed, through a professional contractor, four and a half years ago. Painstakingly constructed as a retirement home...one that would meet our physical,mental, spiritual needs well into our golden years, now occupied my an almost grown teen and two small boys kindergarten and first grade with a high school graduation date some where into our late 60's...very late...do I have stories? Of course, the hind quarters of a chipmunk in my washing machine.  The recent trip to inner Ontario Canadan, first one with both small boys; including the 10" cut deep into the leather of the third seat of my Ford Expedition. No one knows anything about it. Stories, yep I have stories. For sure the only one that matters or posses any real meaning is the story of why my life is not my own and that the happily ever after of my story begins and ends at the Cross and in the Love of my Resurrected Jesus. Apart from Him even my most entertaining story wound be void of excitement, humor, or even a snicker. Jesus gets me up in the morning and tucks me in secure at the end of each day. I smile now as I think back over a weeks worth of stories...a week in a Canadian river valley could fill the Britannica...but I am content to to thank Jesus and smile myself to sleep.