on august sixth

On August sixth, two thousand twenty six, i cross the finish line of my twenty fifth year and ready myself to run a new lap. As one who is deeply reflective, these moments of pause, of marking, find their home in a treasured part of my heart. A day like this is a beautiful breath between a year finished and a new one begun, to reflect on the race complete and chart the course ahead.

On August sixth, two thousand twenty five, I sat on my bed before sunrise and asked God through tears to make something beautiful of this year. Much of the past 365 days were run at a steady pace through muddy paths, traversing mundane days, and a foggy road before me.

A lot changed. Slowly, and then all at once.

And I cannot testify enough to the goodness and faithfulness of Jesus. Today I desire to relish in the kindness bestowed on me by an abundantly gracious God who has rescued me from the pit of despair, setting my feet secure on a wide place, again and again.

As of late, Psalm 18 has been my song (both literally and figuratively). I’d love to share a portion of that with you now:

“He sent from on high, he took me;
he drew me out of many waters.
He rescued me from my strong enemy
and from those who hated me,
for they were too mighty for me.
They confronted me in the day of my calamity,
but the LORD was my support.
He brought me out into a broad place;
he rescued me, because he delighted in me….

For it is you who light my lamp;
the LORD my God lightens my darkness….

For who is God, but the LORD?
And who is a rock, except our God?—
the God who equipped me with strength and made my way blameless.
He made my feet like the feet of a deer
and set me secure on the heights…

You gave a wide place for my steps under me,
and my feet did not slip…

The LORD lives, and blessed be my rock,
and exalted be the God of my salvation.”

It was high school when I surrendered every last corner of my life to Jesus. At a summer camp in the Rockies, darkness met the light, and my life forever changed. The more I parse out the details of the near decade that has followed, I am overcome by the evidences of God’s goodness, faithfulness, sufficiency, and grace at every turn.

In my room at my piano, in therapists’ offices, on first dates, in sickness, in paralyzing fear, in celebration, in hope deferred, in gratification delayed, in desire fulfilled, through a mess of confusion, in deep wrestling, the only thing unchanging is God’s kindness toward me.

This past year held the last lap of a greater chapter. To put it gently, my first four years post-grad were difficult. I struggled to find a sense of belonging, purpose, and direction. It seemed any door upon which I knocked would shortly be followed by the sound of a deadbolt sliding shut.

In retrospect - I wouldn’t change a thing. While suffering is never preferable in the moment, the harvest it has yielded in my life is worth every minute. What greater treasure than to taste and see God’s goodness unwavering when my circumstances do anything but? What more worthwhile pursuit than to know him more intimately in our abundance and lack? What more valuable prize than walking with Jesus forever?

In one of my theology classes during college, I was told that the pit of suffering is generally not the time to establish our theology. What suffering has proven to do is reinforce the truth of those beliefs developed, refine them, and reveal the patches of unsteady ground I’ve chosen to build a house upon.

Since August sixth, two thousand twenty two, I have found true and lasting refuge in Christ alone. He who has lightened my lamp, given strength for the battle, rescued me, set me secure on the heights with feet like the deer. The clouds didn’t give way to sun right away, but I have come to count the gift of God’s strength sustaining me as, in many ways, more significant than an immediate change in circumstance.

Deliverance, in a few forms, has indeed come. In the last three months of my life, there has been a fresh joy, a new brightness, and a renewed spirit of hope. Now, I do not discount the significance of that in pursuit of suffering for sufferings sake. I think what I am trying to say is a lot like what Paul wrote in Philippians chapter four:

“Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned, in whatever situation I am, to be content.I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.”

Notice that the source of Paul’s contentment is not in becoming a master of suffering nor of thriving - but is being rooted firmly and abiding deeply in the person of Jesus Christ. In our suffering we have hope, in our abounding we are grounded, and in the transitions that lie between on our pilgrimage through life we are sustained by him alone.

On August sixth, two thousand twenty six, I find my feet in a flourishing field of green beneath a golden hour sun. I sit on a quiet beach at sunrise, where only birds are found awake, dancing over the water to the song of crashing waves.

On August sixth, two thousand twenty six, through trusting in Jesus, I am like a tree planted by water who sends out its roots by the stream. Unafraid of heat, unmoved by drought, with leaves green and fruit borne in and out of season. Not by my strength, but in Christ alone.

On August sixth, two thousand twenty six, I stand undone by the blessings showered on me in Christ. In friendship, family, the safety of a home, the hope in a new season, the sun above the horizon at both ends of the day, the joy of beauty made by my hands, the towering trees that tell of his glory, and above all, the Good News of Jesus Christ that has changed everything about my life. I have been drawn out of mighty waters, I have been set free, and I have found life in his name. I am grateful for twenty five years of life.

On August sixth, two thousand twenty six, and in all the days that follow, to Christ be the glory for making something beautiful of this life. I look forward to seeing him bring forth beauty again and again and again and again. As long as my lungs have breath.