Are you a narrative?  Indeed, you are.  Is not your life akin to a story?  Is not your life a tale of moments, days, months, and years, a flow of happening, event, and circumstance? Of course it is.  We are creatures of narrative, creatures of story and song who live in a world of story, a universe of meaning.
     Yet we would not even think about story unless we believed this universe is meaningful.  And if we believe it to be meaningful, we must ask ourselves why we believe this to be true.  If we call ourselves a meaningful story, what have we accomplished? We've simply affirmed ourselves, by ourselves.
     Unless we are stories in a story, a bigger story in which all stories find meaning, we are nothing but blips in a vast canvas of self-affirmation without any basis for doing so. Sure, we can laud our story, but how do we know?  Are we the sum of our reality?
     Maybe.  But how do we know?  Consider John 1:14, a verse to which I have referred many times before, "And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us."  When Jesus, God, appeared, the larger story did, too.  Then, and only then, could we affirm that the universe--and all of us--are really with purpose.  Otherwise, we shouting at the proverbial wind.
    In the end, we can only be narratives in a metanarrative, the metanarrative of God.
    And that, in the long run, is what history, and all of its stories--our stories--is all about.