wrestling and resting and promise

There are moments that feel like one big metaphor.

I had one of those moments tonight, driving through a rainstorm with my Joshua.  We’d been watching the sky for awhile; these huge, dark, ominous clouds in one half, and brilliant sunshine in the other.  And that feels so much like life these days.

It feels like the skies are opening up above our heads these days, and releasing all the sunshine and rain in existence into our hands.  Blessings, curses, victories, heartaches, contentment, chaos…our hands are open, filled, and overflowing with the strange and the beautiful, the everyday and the ugly.

Some days, the excess spilling out of our hands, the things our hearts can’t entirely contain…some days it all just feels like too much new.  And yet, as I sat tonight reflecting on a sky torn by indecision, there it was.  The rainbow.  Every last bit of it visible in vivid color.  The promise of hope.  The promise of God never giving too much again.  The promise that whatever is being rained down on us, be it beautiful or tragic, it will not overtake us.  It will not overtake the God who holds us.

Storm and sunshine and rainbow.  Struggle and growth and hope.  Wrestling and resting and promise.  This is our life today, and it is beautiful.

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