the making of the beautiful.

docks near my house, one week after hurricane ivan.

last night i moved into the once-destroyed house after a year and a half of being homeless.

i was reading in psalms this morning when i heard my dad put some music on in the next room. it was a scots woman playing a dirge on scottish flute. slowly i recalled where i was living the last time i had a stable home: i was in scotland. i also started to remember my friends, families, and daily walks i used to take. then i realized that these emotions were caught up in something bigger that was happening. as i began longing for all of this, i felt that, for me, the Lord was signaling the end of a long, hard season in my life. it hurts when you lose something. when you lose what you know as home, when you lose friends, families, and walks. i had lost all of this, moved to florida, and lost it all again.

sometimes we talk about who God is. sometimes we see Him, and sometimes we know Him. a friend once told me that what matters at any given moment is not what i think is true about the situation, but that what matters is who i know God is. God is love and truth and light, which is firm and doesn't change.

i had always talked about God as my provider, but now i know him as my provider, for i have seen his hand at work in my life. i have come through a difficult season, and looking now from the other side i can see that God has provided for me and for the needs of my family every step of the way.

i'd like to take this opportunity to thank God for his goodness.

be mindful you do the same.