The Plot Twist Series

1 · The Start You Never Chose

Ever think about how little control you had over showing up here?

You didn’t pick your family, your DNA, your town, your decade.

You didn’t choose your eye color, or your first language,

or whether your parents were happily married or barely speaking.

You just … arrived.

Some of us landed in warm homes; some in storm zones.

Some grew up with bedtime prayers, some with slammed doors.

But however it looked, you were dropped into a story already in progress.

Before you could spell your name,

other people’s choices were shaping yours.

And now here you are — half grown, half guessing,

trying to figure out what kind of life you’re actually writing.

Maybe that’s why you sometimes feel like a side-character in your own movie.

The script was started without you.

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2 · The Problem Underneath the Problems

Romans 5 says,

> “Through one man sin entered the world, and death through sin.”

That’s Paul’s way of saying the story got hijacked early.

Humanity made a decision that bent the plot.

And the world’s been carrying the scar ever since.

You see it everywhere:

in wars that make no sense,

in secrets that break families,

in the quiet self-hate that chews through people’s joy.

Nobody has to teach a child how to lie.

It’s already in the software.

That’s what the Bible calls sin — not just bad behavior,

but a sickness that keeps rewriting every good intention.

It infects the systems, the schools, the songs.

It even shows up in the mirror.

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3 · The Honest Moment

Be real for a second:

Haven’t you ever caught yourself thinking,

“I don’t even understand me”?

You make promises you can’t keep,

feel guilt you can’t shake,

and chase validation that disappears by Monday.

You want freedom, but the freedom you grab

usually ends up owning you.

That’s not just teenage confusion — that’s the human condition.

And right there, God doesn’t look away.

He looks closer.

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4 · God · The Original Author

Psalm 139 says,

> “All the days ordained for me were written in Your book

before one of them came to be.”

That means you’re not random.

Even the chaos has coordinates.

God saw you before your parents ever argued about baby names.

He wrote possibilities into you — creativity, courage, humor, empathy —

but He never took away your freedom to choose the ending.

You’re not a puppet in His story.

You’re a partner He keeps inviting back to the page.

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5 · The Scene Change

Jesus once told a story about a kid who wanted to write his own script.

We call it the prodigal son, but it’s really the story of all of us.

He basically says, “Dad, I’m done living by your rules.

Give me what’s mine, I’m out.”

And the Father — this picture of God — lets him go.

Not because He doesn’t care,

but because love without freedom isn’t love.

The son burns through his money,

his friends ghost him,

and he ends up broke, barefoot, and ashamed.

At his lowest, he rehearses a speech:

“I’ve ruined it. I’ll beg for mercy. Maybe I can be a servant.”

But before he reaches the driveway,

the Father runs.

Wraps him up.

Calls for a robe, a ring, a feast.

He doesn’t just forgive him;

He restores him.

That’s what God does with stories that collapse.

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6 · The Twist

You’d expect God to hand you a new notebook

and say, “Start fresh.”

Instead, He writes grace right over the old lines.

He doesn’t hide the scars; He turns them into punctuation marks.

Every comma where you thought it was a period—

that’s mercy keeping the story alive.

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1 · When the Author Walked Onstage

Most stories keep their writers hidden.

The author lives off-screen, outside the plot.

But ours did something unheard-of—

He walked into His own story.

> “The Word became flesh and made His dwelling among us.” — John 1 : 14

God didn’t fix the world by remote control.

He moved into the neighborhood.

He spoke our language, wore our skin,

felt the ache of homesickness that lives in every human chest.

Jesus didn’t come to erase the story.

He came to redeem it from the inside out.

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2 · The Scene Nobody Expected

If I were writing this story, I’d have God arrive with fireworks,

power, and a soundtrack that rattles mountains.

Instead, He shows up as a baby who can’t even hold His head up.

He worked in a carpenter’s shop,

got blisters,

sneezed sawdust,

laughed at inside jokes with friends who still didn’t get Him.

That’s the humility of love—

entering a broken script without demanding a rewrite first.