If we were having coffee this morning, I would wonder aloud whether this coming of age thing is supposed to be so fraught with life and death, divorce and birth, loss and love. Sometimes the co-mingling of so much joy and pain, so much sunshine and devastation, seems cruel, contrite, and certainly, inconceivable. I think it’s partly this stage of life, where friends and family are facing such crossroads, but I also think that living life fully necessarily takes us into deep sorrow and deep joy, and we have little control regarding where one ends and the other begins.
I’m left with a sense of awe regarding how the God of the universe holds our fragile lives in such a charged balance. And a sense of humility for how little I understand of this life, how without words I find myself when witnessing deep pain or deep joy.
But in the midst of the unknown, I find gratitude creeping over me.
What more is there in this life than accompanying one another through the valleys and the mountains? What more is there to be being human than these experiences and the ways we respond in love and care to one another? And how much more there is to this God we seek to know more fully! I’d tell you that even when I can’t see or feel God and I doubt what God is doing, I trust in God’s peace that passes all understanding, I trust in the peace we lend to one another as sinners, yet bearers of Christ, when worldly peace is utterly unfathomable.
I’d also tell you how I’ve hit something of a stride with this dissertation and how very thankful I am to be in a field where I can be both analytical and creative. I’d tell you how nervous and excited I am to be teaching at Drew University this fall and be learning with students there about Chinese family culture. I’d tell you about the anticipation of planning to receive our Chinese pastor friends at Princeton Seminary and Princeton University this fall, the joy I feel at hosting them at our home when they were so generous in showing us around years ago.
And finally, I’d tell you about how gorgeous these final days of summer in New Jersey have been, how there’s something about the sun coming through the window in the morning, the hummingbird on the porch, and the encroaching crispness of the evening hours that reminds me of hope in the midst of darkness. Just last fall, New Jersey experienced much of the brunt of Super Storm Sandy, but since that time, nature has been healing herself and healing many of us in the process.
Yes, in the midst of pain, there is peace. It’s not immediate or instant, but comes about slowly, with grace and goodness, and we are its bearers in a fallen world.
What is your hope or your peace this day?
P.s. I’ve linked up all the virtual coffee date posts in a new category so you can find them easily. Check it out!