Before taking the books off of the shelves, I sit down on my slender mattress.  The evening sky, at least what I can see from my window, is a solemn-looking shade of gray.  In contrast to the vibrant green treetops, it brings a spirit of profundity and of peace over my second-floor apartment.  A fierce gust of wind sprints into, through, and out of my room.  I close my eyes, and for that brief moment, I am Pocahantas in “Colors of the Wind.”  I open my eyes and stare at the wall.  It stares back.  I reminisce on the events of the year.  If only walls could talk, this one would probably never stop.  There’s been so much that has happened this year, so much I will never be able to fully recount to another: in shedding the tears of my shattered heart, in feeling the side pains of my laughing fits, in moving forward through both the euphoric delight and wretched disquiet of my readjustment here and every other feeling in-between.

Nevertheless looking back and over this past season, I see all that I’ve lost, and it is nothing in comparison to what I have gained—the surmounting belief and understanding that He is God alone.

..and that He is mine, and I am His.

Wherefore in shock, disbelief, despair, frustration, hardship, heartbreak, healing, happiness, hope, rest, growth, thankfulness, and every other situation I may be catapulted into, I have learned these three things: to write it down, dance it out, and let it go—forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead.  For I run a different race.  I vie for an other-worldly prize.  Therefore, until I reach the finish line, I will continue to press on.

Our Heavenly Father: Let us see Thy glory, if it must be from the shelter of the cleft rock and from beneath the protection of Thy covering hand.  Whatever the cost to us in loss of friends or goods or length of days let us know Thee as Thou art, that we may adore Thee as we should.  Through Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.  [-A.W. Tozer, The Knowledge of the Holy, 68]