I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful and refreshed this morning felt. I just left the house to go pick up breakfast, and the ground is still wet from the previous night’s storm. It’s like everything has been washed.
It’s in the mid-60s, and the sun is shining. I’m feeling happy, and then I remember the headline I read upon waking up earlier: “Two children killed in tornado.”
It stormed all last night. The evidence was in my front yard. A huge limb had broken free and fallen to the ground. Fortunately, we dodged any damage.
I’m reminded that nature, storms, and many of life’s happenings are impartial to those on their path. I wake up to a beautiful day, another wakes up to tragedy—all because geographically I happened to be elsewhere.
There’s always a heaviness alongside the lightness, isn’t there? “The good and the bad are moving along parallel tracks toward the same end,” a wise pastor once said.
It’s the bittersweet tale we all participate in. We can feel blessed and burdened all in the same breath. Hopeful and helpless. It’s the double-edged beauty of living this one, wild life.
Books I recommend: