May 6

I was tucked into my usual corner at the Mother Ship this morning when one of the regulars plunked down in the chair kitty-corner to my perch. We exchanged pleasantries and I asked how he was doing; he shared that he was tired because he'd been up at night worrying about his son, who recently decided to enlist in the military. I put down my crochet hook (I know, shocker) and studied his face as he expressed his fears. After a pause, I commiserated; I shared a little about our family. About uncertainty. About Logan. And about how I've never once worried about him since he died because I know where he is.

His face twisted into a pained expression as I talked and his head dropped into his hands, and then when he lifted it again, he shook it and remarked "you're a very strong woman." Then he got up, asked for a hug, and thanked me for making his day. I wished him a good weekend and then he scurried off to work, leaving me to marinate in his parting words.

The thing is, I don't think of myself as a strong person. I probably cry more than most. I yell at other drivers --sometimes creatively-- while I'm in the car. I'm impatient. I battle with feelings of inadequacy on a regular basis. So no, I'm far from strong; I'm very, very weak and would have crumbled long ago had I relied only on my own innate abilities and gifts. It's only through the power of Christ that I can function.

So I'm sure you're thinking "okay, you're not strong, but what's the deal with the sunset pic?" Well, as I watched the clouds roll in over the distant hills this evening, I was --for probably the thousandth time-- amazed by the colors: oranges, reds, and yellows that gradually gave way to deep blue and purple. 

And as I gazed, I had a thought: the clouds are an integral part of that beauty. The very clouds that are oft considered a nuisance in an otherwise pristine canvas of blue sky are transformed into amazingly beautiful creations when exposed to sunlight. Those sunbeams can turn something dull and unremarkable --even something that feels hopelessly broken-- into an object of beauty. 

We're like those clouds when we allow God to reflect His love and grace in our lives. We become resplendent. Ethereal. And maybe even strong and beautiful, too. 

So offer up your own broken bits and pieces to God. He'll no doubt use them to create something amazing.