"These are beautiful times"

 “We all suffer but we recover,
Just to discover life where we all are.
I fought all through the night,
Oh, oh, but I made it alive.
The sun's starting to rise,
Oh, oh, these are beautiful times.” –Owl City

   Last night as thunder pounded in a rhythm that sounded a lot like that of my heart, and the lightning gave me moments of white illumination against black, I realized that storms and the crashing of our ships against the shores only make us stronger, but sometimes not for our benefit and sometimes without a clear answer, but on down the shore, along the way, for someone else who has broken edges too. So they can see the Lighthouse, meet the Captain of the seas, so they know someone understands; that they are not the only ones with sails that are ripped and torn. And as rain pattered against my window and my eyes grew heavy with sleep but so many words were still swirling in my mind, I felt it all come crashing through, the illumination, the truth, and I realized that I am exceedingly blessed, overwhelmingly, falling to my knees, and speechlessly standing before the cross, because I never saw it before now. And while these past couple months/year have taught me more than I ever learned in all my life, and through the haze of physical pain that left me staggering and uncertainly watching for answers, I gave up somewhere along the line, but hid behind the excuse that I was learning to deal with it, that strength was now my companion, and that I did not need or want hope, because hope had left me stranded. But the last couple days have been a taking away of all the resistance I had piled high, like a child with fever that is covered in blankets, but never seems warm enough. As people rallied behind me, and welcomed us home, as I realized that someone else knows exactly what it is like to always have to watch, to be careful, and to never do too much so the pain does not get worse, I could finally see His mercy again, see that He knew exactly what I would need and that He sent these people in my life right now, exactly when I thought that this was going to be my life, that I would stay in this wreckage forever. And His mercy began to fall, just like the rain, washing away my excuses, making me marvel that such a great God would let me be one of His. 

Several nights ago, we were biking along a new trail and the air was filled with the scent of blooming apple trees and it was so thick, that you could put it in a bottle and the fragrance would stay. The sun was setting, just over the mountains, and the clouds were a fiery orange as we estimated how much daylight we had left. As we biked past the lake, through the trees, I said that I was done with looking for answers. That I would just accept what had happened; that I was tired of hoping for a miracle. She responded with words that struck so deep, and told me that I should not lose hope, but that I should not expect anything. That I should hope and trust, that God is still the God of the impossible things; that He can still heal. And since we have come home, it has been such a crazy, beautiful life, picking up where we left off. Embracing the start of summer, and the hectic finals, the burning sun that makes the skin a little browner, the mountains that still stretch toward the heavens (I've really missed them), and the soft evenings spent counting the countless stars. Laughter, (more than I deserve) meaningful conversations, challenging conversations, and everything always pointing back to Jesus, the start and end of everything. 

So here I am, to tell you that the struggles we go through sometimes prepare us for something great, maybe not in our life, but in someone else’s. Because we are just the vessels, clay waiting to be molded into something He can use, and no matter what is thrown across our path, we are blessed, and He is there. The fact that He cares about the little things, about the silly problems that we overreact about, and that He grants us wisdom in all the troubling aspects of life, completely blows me away. What can I say? We serve a great God.

 It is beyond wonderful to be home again, and I am so excited to see what waits in store for this summer. It is going to be great. 

++Amy Jane. 

P.S. random fact of the day: it's hailing outside, we have a tornado warning, and the sides of the streets are beginning to look a lot like Venice. okay, maybe little, little Venice, but still.