Dear Daughters,

Tonight we had a boring sunset.  Every night I peer out the window to see the palette of the evening.  Sometimes it’s simply blue and grey, other times there are combinations of orange, yellow, blue, maroon, red, purple, indigo, violet and countless other colors of the rainbow.  But tonight it was just hues of the blue sky, rather boring colors when contrasted with the other flaming, glorious, golden and sometimes stormy sunsets of previous evenings.

 

Of course, that got me thinking about what makes a gorgeous sunset.  The more clouds – the positioning, depth, and different layering of clouds, the mere timing and strategically placed clouds – the more beautiful sunset.  The less clouds, the more boring.

A few months ago Grandpa and I sat out in the garage and he gave me a brief lesson in the basic cloud forms.  The cirrus clouds deliver a thin web-like texture, the cumulus give a bit more depth and color, whereas the stratus are the most foreboding of all.  Yet, when all three are combined in different parts of the sky, the results can be stunning when the sun shines through them.

That, in turn, got me thinking about what makes our lives beautiful.  If I equate clouds with trials, hardships – all those things we try to run away from in life – then the more and various clouds equal the more beauty.  Now I know that’s definitely not what you wanted to hear today.  Nobody I know is asking for difficulties to come so they can become more beautiful, but we all know that hard times do have a way of finding their way into our lives.

When you girls were younger, I think we owned every Calvin and Hobbes book available. One of the saddest days of my early life was when I heard that Bill Watterson was retiring from writing the comic strip.  Bill believed his most creative years were finished and he didn’t want to decline into mediocrity.  I disagreed 100%.  I loved the humor, sarcasm, political savvy and insight of Watterson shown through the characters of Calvin, Hobbes and their family.

You may remember one thing Calvin’s father replied now and then – when Calvin was complaining of chores or asking why about tedious aspects of life – was that the chore or task was building character in Calvin, which would always bring a grimace to Calvin’s face.

Of course, what Calvin’s dad said is true.  Hard stuff in life does lead to the refining and building of our character.  Troubles that bring us to our knees help to ground off the rough edges of our personality, and if we allow it, trials cause us to become more patient, kind and caring.

I remember being decades younger and not having a lot of tolerance for other people’s weaknesses, grief or pain.  But after Uncle Steve took his life I remember feeling a broken heart – for the first time in my life.  I had heard other people talk about having broken hearts, but only when I experienced it did I grow in compassion for others’ grief.

I used to be afraid to talk to those who had lost a loved one to death and especially suicide, but now I felt a kinship with those people.  I was not scared of dealing with those emotions anymore simply because I didn’t have a choice but to deal with them.  Either deal with them or stuff them down and let them consume me from the inside out.

There’s a part of us that wants to hide our difficulties from others, pretending that all is well in our lives.  But when we become vulnerable and honest, allowing Jesus to come and walk with us, He will shine through those trials. He has a tendency to make the ugly beautiful.

Recently I read a story that was shared on a friend’s Facebook page.

The Cloak

One night a heartbroken friend had a dream that she was standing in front of Jesus. He handed her a cloak. As she looked at the cloak, she realized it was alive. She could see that its threads were strands of specific events from her life, some bright and beautiful, others wormy and grotesque. She looked at the ugly strands–abuse, betrayal, divorce, illness, grief–each reminding her of seasons of excruciating pain. Just as she tried to pull out the threads, she glanced at Jesus. He took the cloak, wrapped her in it, and looked at her with an expression of deep pleasure and delight, as if the cloak were the most beautiful tapestry ever woven. At that moment she realized that if she attempted to pluck out the ugly bits, the entire garment would unravel.

We have all suffered innumerable hurts, heartaches and devastating events, for no one is immune if we live on this planet. At times we may feel like we live in a never-ending dark tunnel.  We have a choice, however – a choice to allow Jesus to fight for us against the hard stuff or succumb to their power and live in fear and despair.

It’s often tempting to curse the clouds when they cover the sun.  I find myself thinking thoughts like:

This was not in my plans.

Why me?

 I don’t deserve this.

 I feel like God doesn’t even care, He’s just abandoned and forgotten me.

This happens to others, not to me…

 Yet, one thing we know for sure is that Jesus is walking with us in the trouble, deep in the clouds, through every storm.

Remember Joseph –  that 17-year old boy whose brothers threw him in a pit, then trafficked him to some travelers on their way to Egypt?  He later became a slave for an official whose wife lied about Joseph’s improprieties and had him thrown into prison.  Finally when he was 30 years old he was released and became Prime Minister of Egypt.

Amazingly, when he finally saw his brothers many years later – the same ones who sold him – he had the most amazing statement to them as they were shaking in their sandals after they found out his new status.  He said to them,

 You intended it for evil, but God intended it for good…

Hope reminds us that our best days are ahead, not behind us.  Surrender tomorrow to God – He’s already been there.  Caleb Kaltenbach

Love, Mom

Trust Him in your darkness