I tilted my head and pushed back my aqua ballcap to gaze at the heavens.
It was a clear night. Star upon star shimmered in the late autumn sky. This beauty was a quiet reprieve in the midst of a difficult season. God had given my sister, who has struggled fiercely with her health since last Christmas, a rare burst of energy. Even as the breeze whipped through my clothes and my teeth chattered uncontrollably, I was thankful she felt up to this spontaneous walk on the beach.
We kept plodding ahead through sand, the crash of the waves nearby, despite the cold. It was a brief walk, but it was beautiful. Afterward our lungs burned from the exhilarating cold and our hearts burned with the warmness of this new memory.
This was a rich gift right at the center of what had proved a trying season—a season of loneliness and sickness and uncertainty. At the end of October, half of us had to leave our home when we discovered a mold infestation. Being separated from the rest of our family as the remediation process began was hard, but God blessed us with this gorgeous place at the beach.
There is one lesson God has impressed on my heart again and again throughout these months away from home:
Anxiety about the future strangles the joy right out of our hearts. The Lord tells we don’t have to worry about tomorrow. He provides everything we need—all the sustainment we need—now. We don’t have to live our tomorrows today. (see Matt. 6:25-26)
To continue reading this post, please visit my friend Sara’s blog.