During my trip to Ireland a couple weeks ago, I was fortunate enough, once I was able to get out of bed, to escape away on some pretty awesome walks up the countryside. Occasionally I remembered to bring my camera, so I got to capture some pictures like the one above. Thankfully I always remembered to bring my journal and Bible, and was able to spend some sweet time in surrender before the Creator of such a gorgeous landscape. I treasure those moments, and although I love spending time with family I don’t see often, reminiscing and catching up on what we’ve missed in each others lives, it is those quiet times up the Black Road and down by Lough Allen that will stick in my memory for years to come. Plus, the pictures and journal entries help to document the spiritual realities that God made real.
I freak out about dates, I really do. Not dates, but dates, like the ones on a calendar. I have the memory of an elephant (usually), and can remember dates from years and years back that I really should forget. Honestly, for my own health and well-being I should really forget the painful dates that I remember. For weeks months I have been psyching myself out about today, thinking that it would be among the most painful of days in my young life thus far. It wasn’t something I was consciously doing, but rather I would occasionally remember that day in July and just shove that memory back into the billionth layer of my intricate memory.
Through honestly sweet quiet times in the dark mornings and light evenings of San Mateo, reading Scripture and writing while sprawled out in the green fields of Country Leitrim, encouraging conversations with friends who know much about the character of the faithful God we serve, and walking through a very trying time period with my family, God has turned today into a drop in the ocean that is the rest of my life. He has shown me how to love and forgive, and to mold each and every day around Him. He has given me new perspective of the cross, and revealed to me just how much I still think I can do this life on my own.
I am nothing without Christ, and all of my relationships need to reflect that truth.
I’m thankful for today, and the pleasant memories that it brought to mind. It has been hard to come to understand this, but the last two years were not pointless. They are a crucial piece of my present and my future. Thank you, Jesus.
“O praise the one who paid my debt, and raised this life up from the dead…”
