Reflections.

The day after my college graduation I drove away from the sleepy town of Cedarville to meet my family in a neighboring town before heading home. It was a beautiful day, with a sweet, hazy warmth already filling the morning air and bright green fields stretching out on either side of the country road. The sky was covered by a sheet of thin cloud that was seeping out sunlight through its many patches, and I couldn't help but think how emblematic it was of my last four years.

Like every other student, I went through fire and rain during my college chapter. When I see the girl on my freshmen ID, I have a hard time believing it's the same person staring back at me in the mirror. There have been more changes than I care to remember and more growth than I deserved to experience. Looking back on all I've gone through is kind of like looking at the sky on my last drive away from Cedarville. There seems to be a sheet of thin cloud blurring the details, yet there are countless patches through which the sun shines perfect clarity on certain events. No matter what angle I take, I see that above the hazy layer of cloud, God's plans remained ever-present, and even in the times when there were no patches for the sun to seep through, his light was in the distance, waiting for a chance to shine down upon me.

Perhaps this is how life always was, how it always will be.

Realizing this truth was tough because it came with certain implications. It means that it is my constant responsibility to work hard to make patches for God's light to shine through. It means I cannot settle down quietly under the clouds. It means I am not allowed to accept a life lived in the shadows. It means I can never stop seeking out God and listening to his will, even when cloud is all I can see.

Just because there is darkness overhead does not mean we are justified in turning a blind eye to the Sun.

This is much easier said than done. While it is true that the current season has brightness all around it, there is a dark cloud looming overhead bringing with it all sorts of fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of the future, fear of a career, fear of returning home, fear of moving away, fear of settling, fear of lethargy, fear of new communities, fear of never amounting to a somebody… 

These are some pretty problematic fears for a college grad, and believe me, I'm not making any of them up! How am I supposed to become something in the world when I'm only twenty-one? You'd think I'd learn some pointers in college, but let's be real, I was too busy enjoying myself, and I'm not about to apologize for that. Instead, I'm going to tell myself (and the rest of you college grads who think you're better than me because you're pretending you don't share my fears) to keep my eyes on the horizon and work hard to seek out those patches of light. 

The sun doesn't rise by the snap of God's fingers. Instead, it's a process; a very long and beautiful process that most people don't experience enough because it is quite an endeavor to get up that early. It takes a lot of effort to take this messy, weird, painstakingly long process called "life" and turn it into something of value, something worth being proud of.

The reality is, I'm not going to leave home and start my dream career right away. I'm not going to fit perfectly into my community or set up a new family immediately after college. I'll never achieve all my goals, because I'll always be creating new ones. I'm not going to have all the character traits I desire all of a sudden nor will I ever become a "somebody," because apart from Christ, all of us are nobodies. But that doesn't mean I'm a failure or that I need to be afraid of any of these unknowns. It means that I need to trust that life is a process--a slow, steady sunrise that fills the cloudy sky with beautiful patches of light. 

If life can be as beautiful as that sky was on my last drive away from Cedarville, then I've got nothing to worry about. With every season, there is the promise of a gorgeous view, so there's no need to get stuck in the shadows of the clouds.