Another open letter...

Sometimes, when I hear a certain song, or I see an odd post on Facebook, or get into a conversation with someone about my story, I think about you. I thought about you last night, and my chest hurt a little bit and I hoped and prayed that your heart is at peace.

When I was going through a particularly rough time in my life, you reached out to me. You were asked to, and you did. You listened to me. Your advice was quiet and gentle. I appreciate all of those things. I have always appreciated you, and the smiles you have for everyone, and your gracious presence. You never demand attention. You are supportive and encouraging. You are a great example for me.

But you were wrong about one thing. At least you were wrong for me, and I hope to God that you were overstating the situation as it plays out in your life, too.

"... and... life pretty much sucks, anyway, so..."

You shrugged.

In absolute love, both for me and for Jesus, you gave me advice with this caveat.

But life *doesn't* suck.

It isn't supposed to.

It can be difficult. It can be senseless to our limited vision. It can be frustrating, and maddening, and hurtful, and exhausting. But, especially for those of us who try, however messily, to submit our lives to the Lord, there's always an undercurrent of peace that doesn't make sense. Of "abundant life" that has zero to do with how much money is in the bank, or how healthy we are, or anything that can be physically grasped.

Besides that, life can be beautiful, and unreasonably generous, and magical, and reassuring, and celebratory, and all of that.

When I wake up in the middle of the night, still holding hands with my husband, it strikes me how incredibly wonderful this life is.

When I look across the dining room table to see each member of my family trying to figure out which card to play next, I'm overwhelmed by the greatness of the here and now.

Oh, yes, I have a hope that goes beyond the temporary... but I also have a rich existence that is wondrous and glorious... and life *doesn't* "pretty much suck, anyway." It's miraculous moment after miraculous moment, and I hope I never take any of them for granted.

I sincerely wish for you that your words were not a genuine description of how you feel about your world. I want so much for you to experience the goodness of this life. I hope that you are.