Two Hands.

I think someday there will be someone who won’t leave.

I think someday there will be someone who will see me as worth fighting for.

I don’t think they will be without fault,

Or fear,

Or struggles that make that fight a difficult one.

I simply believe they will be willing to fight.

That’s all I really want.

I want someone to see me as worth that fight.

Fear is only as big as you let it be

And struggles only win when you give up

And insecurities can find their rest within confidence gained through knowing that God is right.

But I don’t want to be worth that fight just because of who I am, because

it isn’t me.

I’m broken,

and I struggle,

and frankly I know that most people will leave and it’ll take a lot for me to believe that someone would want me forever.

I’m not enough of a reason, because I’m human, and eventually I’ll fail.

Eventually I won’t do it right,

I’ll let him down,

I will disappoint.

I’m not enough.

But God?...

God is enough.

And love

is enough.

And I guess when God told me to love, I realized that to do so effectively, I had to be willing to fight all the things in my life that hinder love.

I would have to fight my fear, my insecurities, my struggles, because God told me to love, and in order to obey, I have to fight.

And I guess one day I believe that someone will be willing to love me.

But they will see that I only have two hands,

two hands that I can either stretch out to embrace all the Lord puts in my life,

or can be weighed down with the responsibility of keeping his attention;

But they are not strong enough to do both.

They were not meant to be.

I was given two hands,

But for only one purpose.

Love is a choice.

It is not something I can earn because I am human and it is perfect.

Love is a gift that must be freely given, and anything else is a lie.

It is not love.

So I do believe, someday, there will be someone who will choose to love me.

Not because of me,

but because of Him.

I look forward to meeting that man, and knowing I’ll be safe in his love because it won’t be dependent on me.

It won’t be dependent on me,

or my actions,

or my ability to please him,

or that expectation that I will.

But instead,

it will be dependent on God.

And God never fails.

So

just as I will never have a reason to give up my fight,

he will never have a reason to give up his.

As Small as I Feel

I woke up and rolled over to my phone. It was 9:00am. I’m so glad it’s summer. This is the latest I’ve slept in so long.

I breathed in deep and opened a message from one of my best friends. She’d sent me a picture with Matthew 9:25-27 highlighted. “And they went and woke Him up, saying, ‘Save us Lord; we are perishing.’ And He said to them, ‘Why are you afraid, Oh you of little faith?’ then He rose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm.”

“I love this verse” my friend said.

I wiped the sleep from my eyes and smiled, thankful that I have friends who send me things like this. We talked for a little bit about God’s power and what this verse said about who He is. Because of that exchange, I wrote a message to her that struck me even as I typed the words: “It amazes me how powerful He is over the things that we allow to have power in our lives.”

How many times have I felt overwhelmed by something beyond my control? How many times in my life have I felt under the power of a circumstance, situation, a sickness, or person that has had extreme influence over an aspect of my life? There are times I have felt trapped, out of control, and at a complete loss for independent action.

And in these moments, I feel so very small.

In my experience with these situations it doesn’t really matter what the powerful object is; the feeling remains the same. It’s a smallness that comes with the knowledge that there is nothing I can do to fix whatever is going on.

It’s good to know that to God, those powerful things are as small as I feel.

It’s all small to Him. Not insignificant, just small; containable; malleable… something He has full power over. That’s my God.

“Be anxious for nothing…” God is in control.

It’s not a huge thought. It isn’t something you haven’t heard before. It’s not something I’ve never heard before! But today there was a slight change in my heart. I gave over a perspective to God that I’d been holding onto; and that was simply that sometimes my problems are too big. Sometimes, because they seem so big to me, I believe that they must be that big, or at least a little big, to God. Not that He can’t overcome them, or can’t control them, but simply that I believe it will probably take some work for Him to do so.

I have been so wrong.

He is the only big thing in this entire universe.

Everything is His to control. He allows for things to happen that are against His will for His ultimate glory, but that does not mean that the things He allows are too big for Him to change. Nothing would be “hard” for Him to change.

I think sometimes that’s harder for me to believe. Because in my limited view of life, I see world peace and an end to world hunger and human trafficking and all these things that just prove how desperately we need Him… I see that these things are not in accordance to His will for this world. So I think it’s sometimes easier to believe that they’re a little too big for Him to change. And they simply aren’t! He’s just allowing it.

One day, there will be no more tears.

One day, there will be no more darkness.

One day, peace will reign because the Prince of Peace will be upon the Throne and all the world will bow before Him praising His Name, knowing with everything that makes their very beings that He is the Lord of all.

That day is coming.

And in the mean time, He has given us an opportunity. A very big, lifelong opportunity to operate within these dark circumstances and situations that have power over us and keep us from always living the perfect white-picket fence lives we want for ourselves. The moments where our lives seem perfect, and a sickness hits, or death takes away a loved one, or a difficult person enters our lives, these are not things God does not have power over. He has simply allowed them.

One day they will be gone because God has that power, He’s just waiting to use it worldwide. But sometimes, in the intimacy of our lives, He does use it. We call those moments ‘miracles’.  The moments when the things we knew we had no control over are changed, and our prayers are given the answer we were asking for, and we stand back humbly, knowing that it was all God.

One day, the world will see those moments.

But it won’t be a moment.

It will be forever.

It will be the Kingdom of Heaven.

And we will call it Home.

Arms.

How wonderful it would be to describe the moments within our souls that do not have nametags, labels, or descriptions. Those moments when our hearts are full beyond simple contentment but satisfied enough to not explode into loose exuberance. The moments when the world is right and all is at peace, and there’s a laugh in your throat and it is taking everything within you to not jump and dance and laugh and sing and sometimes, because the feeling is so strong, you might just dance without the music, and sing without written melodies. But even after, you have to stand in silence because those motions were not enough to let out the joy you carry, and those words were not enough to exhaust the excitement within you.

I wish there was a word for the moments when tears trickle down your heart in the slowest, saddest, most depressing way imaginable. It isn’t dramatic or active enough to be anguish, but it’s much deeper than simple sadness. When the very breath you breathe is weighted by the inexpressible pain. Even if you tried to express it, you know nothing could be said to heal the hurt or fix the pain or make the dissonance within you harmonious again. Nothing could suffice, because in those moments, the fragments are too widespread to be blanketed by words alone.

How glorious would it be to describe the moment you are taken aback by how loved you are. When a gesture has been made, and a tear is swimming in your eye and “Thank you” isn’t enough, and a monologue through laughter isn’t either. You just exist, hoping that somehow they know that nothing in the world could compare to knowing that you are loved.

And if only there were words for when that person leaves, physically or spiritually, from your world to another.  The deep loss in your stomach, the choke in your throat, the spontaneous and unexpected moments when they cross your mind and tears surface and all you can think is, “why is a stupid pillow case making me cry?” because it’s too painful to ask why you have to be here without them. 

If only words could cover these.

If only words were able to define them, and put them into a box so everyone looking on could easily understand how it feels to be alive.

For others to use a dictionary to look up these words, and based on the accurate description of these experiences, tailor their sympathy, empathy, and reactions accordingly.

But I guess that’s the funny thing about words… you can use them all day long, but they don’t have feelings attached to them, or experiences, or built in empathy. There aren’t words to explain the moments that are more felt than acted; the moments that waft in and last for a willowy moment, easy to break but strong enough to be fully experienced.

There aren’t specific words.

But, for these words that don’t exist in moments we can’t describe, God has given us arms. He’s given us arms to lift as a signal for a friend. Arms, to wrap around and soothe the shaking body of someone whose sorrow is too great for them to bear alone. Arms, to hold tight to someone whose love has made you feel more important than anything else on this earth ever has. Arms, to wrap another in your joy, as you jump up and down, throw your head back, and laugh to celebrate all the beautiful things within you. 

Sometimes, an embrace is the only way to let another know just how important they are.

Sometimes, we do not have words.

But in those times, we do have arms. We have arms to draw close, to hold near, to use to steady when we fall, and to pick another up when they do the same.

And when arms are not enough, we have silence.

Sometimes silence speaks the loudest of all.

It’s a gift. Within it lives precious, indescribable things that are a gift to watch but a responsibility to see.

After an embrace or a tight hand squeeze, there are times when the only thing left to say is  nothing at all; to let your presence speak for you.

In a world so controlled by what is said, humanity can sometimes be far more impacted by what is left unsaid, and instead, is shown in a touch, in a look, or in a silent, supportive presence.

These things are gifts from God to us. They show love, because love that is just spoken is not love at all.Love is shown. It’s an action. It’s a verb.

And with it, arms complete the sentence that words could only begin.

From "Have To" to "Want To"

It’s the end of my first semester at the college that has become “my place”. I love it here. It’s amazing; the atmosphere, the people, the love and acceptance coupled with, and strengthened by, a genuine devotion to my God by more people than I could have ever anticipated. There isn’t anything particularly extraordinary about the college itself. It’s pretty small, with a beautiful campus, and a Christ-focus, nestled in a tiny town in which there is next to nothing to do. On paper it doesn’t stand out as the funnest, most exciting place to go. But, I know it is where I am supposed to be. I fit better here than I’ve ever fit in anything before. So, to me, it is extraordinary.

Ending my first semester here is bittersweet. On the one hand, I really enjoyed school and a new semester does mean change. I loved this semester so much that, even if the next one is better, I still wanted to enjoy this one a bit longer. It was a beautiful beginning, and I don’t think I was quite ready to turn the page yet.

On the other hand, I’m thrilled to be done with Statistics. Holy cow, that class was a rough one. I was placed in Statistics the night before classes started. I was sitting on the floor, computer in my lap, and I looked up at my couch full of new friends and said, “Guys, I can’t do this. I’m going to fail.” I believed I would. Math has never been my thing. It’s always been a frustrating bunch of nothingness that never made sense at all. But thankfully, regular studying with a friend kept me accountable for the homework, and I made it out with a surprisingly good grade.

That’s actually how a lot of the semester went; I’d get an assignment, or make a friend, or something would happen and I’d think “there is no way I can do this”, but God always provided a way for me to not just handle what was in front of me, but to handle it with success far beyond what I’d anticipated. I learned a lot about how little I can handle on my own, and how much more I can handle when I let God be the shoulders that bear the weight. It was so much easier to live a relatively busy life when I did one thing at a time to the best of my ability, and talked to God about all of it. The frustration was less frustrating, the hurt was less painful, and the joy was so much brighter when I didn’t keep it all to myself. On the days when I did put it all on myself, and I was way too tired, and all I wanted to do was hit something, God provided people to surprise me with M&Ms, encouraging notes, a call from home, coffee dates, and laughter. He’d remind me that I was doing it all wrong. He’d be patient, and sometimes it definitely took a few days, but eventually I’d pay attention and He’d give me His peace again. That was always pretty cool.

Near the beginning of the semester, my dad told me to abide in Christ. I prayed that God would help me to do that. I think I’m beginning to understand what it means to “abide” in a day-to-day life. It’s still really fuzzy and I get in my own way more often than not, but He’s showing me Himself! And He completely blows me away.

I think the biggest thing I have learned since August is that I really do want to be like God. Something I guess I’ve heard most of my life that I never really thought about is that Christians are to be made like Christ. As we are further sanctified, we do become more like Him, our character becomes more like His, and we are more conformed to His image. That’s such a wonderful thing.

I guess I never really broke that down in my mind. It was like this package deal where I just become more like Him, less selfish, more loving, merciful, gracious, etcetera.

The thing about these past few months is that I’ve realized that, though I’m called to be more like God, I actually want to be more like Him. Not just because God is God and I should be like Him, but it’s because… God is amazing.

The more I’ve gotten to know Him, the more I actually want to be like Him. It isn’t that I have this guilty obligation to be like Him. I am astounded by who He is, and even the remote possibility that my character could reflect His in any way is a thought that brings tears to my eyes even as I type this.

It’s akin to the times that I want to be like another person. I admire aspects of their personality. I want to emulate them. That’s how I feel about God. The more I read about who He is and experience Him in my own life, the more like Him I want to become!

His love and mercy, creativity and structure, grace and holiness, His beautiful, perfect balance between characteristics that seem to almost contradict; it’s overwhelming.  He has put to rest so many of my fears and insecurities by simply being there. He encourages me in ways that only He can. He’s forgiven me of things I still struggle with forgiving myself for, and accepted me before I even knew how to explain that I didn’t accept myself. It blows me away that He reveals Himself in everyday life. I can watch, experience, and learn. He’s my Savior and He’s incredible! He’s trustworthy, constant, safe, and everything good.

And I…

I just want to be like Him.

Learning to Love

I was driving back to my campus after spending the day at home. My music was playing softly in the background, but I wasn’t paying much attention to it… He was here. God was in the car with me.

He hadn’t magically flown in from Heaven for a special meeting. It wasn’t even that He came looking for me. It was just that I was in a place where I wanted to see Him. My heart was quiet, and I was able to simply acknowledge that He was there.

I didn’t feel like praying about anything specific. It was simply one of those moments where I needed to know He was there. I missed Him. And in those moments, when my heart aches for His Presence and I acknowledge that I’ve been distracted lately and focused on the wrong things and I admit my longing for Him to come fill the void… that’s when I can really enter into His Presence with no other mandate than to simply be.

That’s what was going on in my truck on my way back to campus. I was just… with Him.

For the first few moments, it was really nice to just exist together. I breathed a simple, “Hey God…” and let myself feel the comfort that always comes when I’m aware of how near He is. I welcomed the soothing, gentle peace along with the soft humility and for a while, we just drove.

And it was nice.

After a bit, I finally wanted to talk about something I’d been wrestling with from that morning... The idea of love without conditions.

It’s a vice I’ve struggled with so many times. The moment I think I’ve got it taken care of, I wake up the next day and all my insecurities have come in full force to take control again. And unfortunately, I usually let it happen.

I struggle with the idea that I can be loved without looking and performing a certain way.

It’s hard to not admit the very real part of our world in which appearances, lifestyles, and decisions tend to determine how much affection a person gets and how much time they’re worth.

And I think if I’m completely honest, sometimes these things determine my love for other people. It’s harder for me to love people I find abrasive or taxing. It’s hard for me to be as approachable with people I don’t necessarily “click” with. It’s just hard.

So, I tend to compare myself to the way that I know, deep down I sometimes compare other people. There are times when my love has limits. There are times that it is determined by the other person’s actions.

So, I know that God loves me and always has, always will, and that He chose to. But there are times when it is difficult to believe that the things I do, the things I say, and decisions I make really won’t affect His love for me. 

That isn’t to say that I believe that the things I say, do, and choices I make won’t affect whether or not He is pleased with me! Because the things I do have consequences. God is displeased, greatly saddened, and jealous of our idols when we choose things over Him—and rightfully so! But it is hard for me to believe that those wrong choices never lessen His love for me.

This time, driving in my truck back to campus, was the first time that I think I ever really grasped the idea that He chose to love me.

He chose to love me, not because I’m special or because I’m going to become something great or because I am anything at all! In fact, what I deserve and should be getting from Him is eternal separation. I don’t deserve love.

I don’t deserve love.

I don’t deserve anything.

So, since I already don’t deserve God’s love, automatically there is a removal of any possibility that my choices or my mistakes could make any difference on that love. I, along with the rest of humanity, was already at rock bottom. We’re all so very undeserving.

But He decided for Himself that He was going to love us. Titus 3:4-5, “But when the kindness of God our Savior and His love for mankind appeared, He saved us, not on the basis of deeds which we have done in righteousness, but according to His mercy…”

That’s just one example of how clear the Bible is that God’s love has nothing to do with what we do, and has everything to do with who He is.

It’s ludicrous to think that after I’ve been at the bottom, deserving the worst of the worst rather than the best of the best, that me or my actions could determine the great love of my Savior. He chose to love me because He is God and He can.

He doesn’t love me for the fact that most days I remember to have a Quiet Time. He doesn’t love me because I’ve written a few worship songs. He doesn’t love me because every once in a while I’ll put on my Good Samaritan hat and go sit with the lonely person at lunch. He doesn’t love me now for what I could be later if I follow all the rules and do the right thing. If any of these things were true, then His love would be determined by my actions. But no…

His love is unconditional.

He loves me just because He chose to. It is His choice and there is nothing I can do to escape that love, and there is nothing I can do to lessen it or to make it greater.

God is Love. 

When He chooses to love someone there is no measurement of that love because He is Love itself. There is no “I’d love you a little bit more if…” He just loves.

It is His choice and it is a choice made independent of the kind of people that we are. He loves us because He loves us and that’s it.

And as I began to think about this, I realized that Jesus asked us to love one another the way that He loves us.

But sometimes it is very difficult to separate the actions of another person from our choice of love. It is really easy to make excuses for deciding to not love someone; to decide that they don’t deserve it.

But the thing is, because God has decided to love us when we didn’t deserve it, we have no grounds to look at another person and say, “you don’t deserve to be loved”, or “I choose to withhold my love from you”. We don’t have a basis for that! We, the most undeserving, are loved by the One who has the most right to withhold that love.

The way we love other people should not be determined by their actions simply because the way that God loves us is not determined by ours.

That doesn’t mean we need to be unsafe, unwise, or thoughtless as we minister to others. We have common sense for a reason! We need to be wise.

But there is a difference between making wise choices with time, energy, and safety, and just being judgmental.

I’m also not saying we shouldn’t hold one another accountable, or that we ourselves can live however we want to because God will just love us anyway. As I already said, our actions have consequences. God is displeased with disobedience. Sin is never excusable.

What I am saying is the fact that He chose to love us gives us a double sided call to put away our insecurities, and to love others.

That’s a big, beautiful responsibility.

And as I’m sitting here thinking about the fact that God chose to love me, I am humbled and in awe of who He is.

I am also greatly, greatly challenged by my lack of love for others.

I’m challenged and embarrassed by the areas in which I fall short, and I do fall so short. And I know, I know, that I’ve only seen a glimpse of God’s love. This is just a minuscule portion. But I do know that it is who He is and loving others is what He has called me to.

Proverbs 17:17a “A friend loves at all times”.

Matthew 22:39, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself”.

1 Corinthians 13: 2b-3, “…If I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing”

In John 13, after Jesus has humbled Himself to the level of a servant and washed the disciples’ feet, He was at the table for the last supper. Judas has left to finalize his horrible plan to betray Christ. Jesus turns to the eleven men surrounding Him, and says (specifically about loving fellow Christians), “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another, even as I have loved you, that you also love one another. By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.”

1 Peter 4:8-9 “Above all, keeping loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sin.”

God has told me to love others and because of that, I need to do it. It needs to be a genuine love for others that comes from Him, through me, and reflects His character; untainted by my selfishness, prejudice or misplaced priorities. 

And just like every other thing God has called us to, He hasn’t left us alone to figure it out by ourselves. I am so thankful that He is here to help me learn to love. He’s willing and available to teach me to not see people as decisions that they make but as objects of His affections.

That’s a thought I’d never really digested before… that people are objects of God’s affections…

And it is such an honor to be able to love something that my Savior loves.

It is an amazing opportunity to be able to interact with people that God adores.

And what better way to learn about the love of God than to allow it to shine through us to others…

Our Constant Creator

A few nights ago eight friends and I went up to the top of a mountain. Getting up there was pretty rough—the road was graveled and bumpy, the night was dark, and it took enough time that we all began to wonder if we were ever going to get there.

Once we reached the end of the bumpy road, we had to walk through the woods. Our phones doubled as flashlights as we dodged hanging limbs and steadied ourselves over uneven footing.

Laughter and muffled conversations was the noise coming from our little corner of the world.  For a bit, we were louder than we probably should have been. Although, once we emerged from the path onto a gigantic rock overhang, a hush fell over us all.

The lights from our little college town shone brightly against the darkness of the night. From streetlights to supermarket parking lots, the valley below us was sprinkled with glorious golds and whites, proving that when the sun sets, our days continue on.

Above those lights there was a deep darkness. It began almost pale as the reflections from below intermingled with the emptiness. But as it rose, the darkness deepened until it gradually grew into the backdrop for a canopy of stars.

We sat on the graffitied ledge and took it all in.

Conversations began around me, and the feeling of normalcy was coupled with our awe. A shooting star was seen, then two…

I was mostly silent…

The longer I sat there, feeling the constant wind from the edge of the mountain, the more in awe I became.

As I looked up I couldn’t help but recognize the fact that all of this—this beauty, these shooting stars, this brilliance that surrounded me—this would be here whether I was there to admire it or not.

God’s creation on this night would be here, even if my loud group of eight had decided to forego stargazing.  

It would all be here even if, at the end of the night, not a single person had given a thought to the sky.

God is constant. He will remain and be wonderful and awe-inspiring even if I choose to never recognize Him again…

God’s magnificence is not limited to my ability or willingness to look at it.

So often I am tunnel visioned. I’ll be focused completely on my situation, on my to-do lists, or on the people around me, and I’ll miss God and His handiwork surrounding me.

But eventually, at some point, I’ll be stopped in my tracks. I’ll look around and see something like this beautiful scenery, or read a passage in the Bible, or just realize that my spirit is missing Him; and when I finally do look around, I see that God never stopped working.

His work, His glory, His creations, every day in every moment in every breath we breathe, He is there. He never stops being Himself. He never stops creating beautiful miracles.

He never halts the sun’s rising or setting. He never silences a baby’s first cry, or ceases a flower’s bloom, or calms a crashing wave just because the people surrounding these beautiful things will not appreciate them.

And He will never stop being intimately involved with the details of my life. He’ll never forget to lead me in the way I should go. He’ll never be too distracted to listen to my prayers. Even when I’ve gone a whole week distracted and distant from Him, He never once leaves me.

He is always. He is forever true. He is constant.

And I am so overwhelmed at the thought that this is the God I serve. This constant, indescribable, loving God is my Savior.

And I am beyond honored, deeply humbled, and completely astounded that I am able to know and serve Him.  

Easter Thoughts

     I wrote this over a year ago, and decided it was time to go ahead and post it:

     It's the end of March, and everywhere I look there are fuzzy bunnies popping out eggs and pastel colored chicks sitting in fake grass looking fresh and neat and clean. Sometimes you see a white cross with a purple tapestry hanging from it, to signify what Easter is really about.

     Our Savior, Jesus Christ, rising from the dead. It means so much more than that one miracle... It is the greatest mark in the history of mankind. Sin has died! And we can rise again; pure, clean, alive.

     I look around myself. I've got the song, "Such great heights" by the Section Quartet playing in the background. My foot is half asleep, I've got my hair down, black tank top on, and I'm biting the inside of my lip. Every time I move, my bracelet rubs against the laptop and makes a noise just loud enough for me to know that it's there.
     I'm alone.
     It's quiet here.
     There's a part of me that wants to cry and never stop, because there is so much around me that I'm unsure of. I'm scared of putting faith in anything I hope to be sure, only to find later that "sure" was the only thing it wasn't... Yet there is another part that wants to laugh forever, because, though things are confusing and life is such a vast mystery, life itself is so beautiful. And God is in all of it. I mean... I wish I could show you the sky last night. It was alive with stars. Like every soul on earth was rejoicing and the heavens themselves could not contain their praises of the Lord.

     Tonight it is not that way. The sky is grey and lonely. It's almost as if it isn't there at all. I heard it is going to rain tomorrow, but anyone could have figured that out just by looking up.

     I realized something the other day... Proverbs 3:5 says, "Trust the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding." Not on my own understanding... It's so easy to say you're trusting God when things make sense. When life seems to be working out well and it all just clicks! It's so simple. Resting is easy.
     But... when things don't make sense?
     I think we give up so many things because instead of trusting God, we think "That doesn't make sense to me... so I'm going to do something else". And "something else" might be a fine option! But... what if you're giving up God's best, simply because it didn't make sense to you?
     I realized in hearing Proverbs 3:5 that my understanding of things doesn't even matter! It doesn't matter if I understand anything at all!
    "Lean not on your own understanding", don't even lean on it! Trust God, and don't put your weight on understanding things. It doesn't matter whether things make sense to us, God just wants us to follow Him. He promises to deal with everything else...

     That brings me back to Easter.
     When Jesus went up on that cross, I don't think anyone understood what was going on. Most people left Him. He was a dying fake who had lived a lie and was now paying the price for it.
     Think about Mary, His mother, as she watched Him... She must have been so heartbroken for so many reasons... and Joseph! And all of Jesus' disciples... we know what happens next in Jesus' story, but at the time, they didn't.
     It didn't make sense until He rose again. And even then, it was probably still very confusing! But all Jesus asked was for His people to remain faithful, and He would do what was needed to make everything okay-- even if it meant rising from the dead.

     I think about the sky tonight. Though it is not as beautiful as last night, it will bring rain, which will fill the earth with life, and soon the clouds will fade away, the sun will appear, and a richer, fuller earth will give praise to the Lord.

     Everything makes sense one day.

    And tonight, I take comfort in knowing that I don't have to understand. It's not my job. God has it taken care of.