It’s a new season.

Time for a new narrative — a new story.

Yesterday is over and cannot be lived again. Tomorrow has not yet arrived, and attempts to live there are futile.

So today is the story.

You are the protagonist, the main character in your story. The crisis, the climax, the resolution? Yet to be revealed for this short story, this new chapter in the novella.

The setting is right where you find yourself. While it may be familiar, it contains new possibilities within its parameters.

The other characters are all around you. Those who played a minor part — or no discernible part at all — in previous chapters may become a vital part of today’s path in the story.

The plot is simple. You awake and move forward through the day, some in habitual routine, some perhaps in new action and discovery. Your goal simply to reach the conclusion unscathed.

But what if today the backdrop cracked a bit, the curtain rustled and you discovered you were part of a larger, more meaningful story? That your creation was for the delight of the Author, and that he had already decided the prime antagonist couldn’t ultimately harm you … That if you trusted in the Author and his direction, all would, in the end, be well?

The story, though new, rings of familiarity. You see hints of the Author in all he has written. And when you have the inevitable existential crisis, struggling with your inadequacies and history of willful defiance against the Author, and cry out for deliverance, the Deliverer — the true protagonist of the Story — arrives.

As a newborn baby.

You know this story.

It was penned in the hearts of humanity long before nib scratched it out on papyrus. You are the character of concern in your story, after all, it is your story. But you are not the hero, not the Deliverer, not the Savior riding in on a white horse to save “the Day.”

But the Savior has arrived, for the world, for all of humanity, for every soul right here in Mississippi, even.

And for you specifically.

It is the story of Christmas. It is his story, and it is yours.

“Tell me the old, old story. Write on my heart every word…”

Do you know the song? Perhaps you’ve sung it a thousand times over.

“Tell me the story most precious, sweetest that ever was heard.”

Can you hear it playing like the soundtrack of this film, this play you’re a part of?

“Tell me the old, old story.”

No, it’s not really a new story at all. But this Christmas, in the midst of the hubbub and busyness, it can become your story of peace. A new old story.

And one day, the Savior will return, riding his white horse, to put an end to suffering in the grand story.

Until that day, may you have peace. And there’s really only one place to find it.

If only the one who offers it had a title that made it obvious, like “The Prince of Peace.” That’d be great.

Wow. It’s almost like he planned it that way. Like he was the Author, after all.

From my heart and our home to yours, Merry Christmas!

Brett Campbell can be reached at brett.campbell@dailyleader.com or 601-265-5307.