Like this:

I had a wonderful time with friends today. Took my raft out on Clear Creek and whooped and hollered and got a frickin’ nasty scrape from my knee to my ankle. There is something that is entirely invigorating about getting wounded doing what you love. But that’s an issue for another time.

After we were back tucked into Dane and Ben’s apartment, telling stories through the steam of our hot cocoas (yes, cocoa. It gets cold in Colorado when the sun hides), I got a really unjust text. It left me feeling alone, untrusted, angry, abused. The clouds outside came through the windows and flooded into my mind and my spirit.

A few hours later I was able to sit in a little nook of my church, in a smelly little basement of an old baptist sanctuary. God was able to remind me of who He is. People are jerks. He is not. People abandon. He does not. People love with limits. His affection pours out boundlessly.

It started raining right before we took communion. The smell of it washed through the stink of the basement and everything felt fresh again. The clouds felt worth it.

Drought, clouds, rain, green things. Repeat.

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