Mixing Colors

A couple of weeks ago I felt like God told me He was going to show me something new.

Anytime I hear God say something like this my mind starts flipping through the possibilities of what it could be.  I go through my schedule and think about any growth areas that might pop up. I do a mental checklist of each arena of my life, how would I feel if each one fell apart? Of course I always cross my fingers it’s not a lesson patience, or self control. As if knowing would somehow prepare my heart for what was to come. No where down my mental spiral did I ever consider something like this week. 

On Wednesday morning, I was sitting at the campfire journaling about how thankful I am for Jesus. I was writing about what a good companion He has been in my journey with grief. Specifically, relating to disappointing circumstances. Ironically, I was interrupted by a text from my sister, and found out that my grandma would be with Jesus soon. By Friday, my grandma was with our Beautiful Savior. I am so thankful that in her last days I got to hold her hand. Heaven felt so close during that time. I could sense Jesus’ presence in the room. 

The last week was full of sadness, grief, and letting go. 

This week was so incredible and it held so much joy. 

I spent the last week with High Schoolers at Camp Geneva. We had awesome conversations about who God is and who we are.  Several campers took significant steps in their relationships with Christ, and some asked Jesus into their lives for the first time. I watched students walk out of shame from their depression, abuse, sexuality. As they walked into The Light they found beautiful freedom. 

Personally, I felt a freedom in ministry deeper than I have ever known. I was confident and felt so connected to what God was doing. 

So if I held sadness in one hand, I held complete joy and life in the other. 

I think for 30 years I have tried to untangle or undo these emotions. I heard about people who felt both sadness and joy at the same time, I just didn’t understand it. 

God told me that He wanted to show me something new and gave me the gift of holding sadness and joy at the same time. 

At camp campers and staff watched as I grieved. They saw that it was okay to feel sad and messy. As I talked to campers who asked Jesus in their lives for the first time, I told them how the night before I kissed my Grandma’s forehead and told her to say a, “Jesus you are beautiful” for me. Now they can have that same confidence that they will be with Jesus for eternity. 

Back in the room where my Grandma spent her last days I got to tell my family about the joys of camp. The breakthroughs for campers and staff, the salvations, and the funny stories. While holding sadness, we smiled. 

If I have learned anything over the last couple of years, it is that life is messy. Most days I want to wipe out the mess with a magic wand. Who wouldn’t? However, there is also this deep appreciation for something, Someone, bigger than me.  He isn’t afraid of the mess, He isn’t afraid to mix the ugly colors with the beautiful ones. He isn’t afraid to mix disappointment and hope, success and failure, peace and storm…or sadness and joy. 

I want to be more like that.