Locked In

I knew yesterday, from the moment my alarm went off, was going to be a good day. As I trudged through the freshly fallen snow that crept into the top of my boots with each step, I hid my face in my hood. This snow came out of nowhere and no one was expecting it, but it was gorgeous. By the time I came back from working out, my sluggish tracks were covered with windblown snow and I struggled to keep my balance. I wasn't at all upset by the snow because it reminded me of home.
By the time I left the apartment, the sun had come out and everything was sparkling. I couldn't help but smile because it reminded me of home. By 1 o'clock, the plowed sidewalks were clear and the snow was leaving small puddles in the uneven pavement. Yep. Definitely like home.
It helps to have such a great day when you know you're going to be staying up all night. I had known for a couple of weeks that I would be helping out with a local youth lock-in and I had become uneasy. What if I wasn't excited? What if I fail at being a trooper with a bunch of middle school and high school students? Through out the day, I only felt my excitement grow. I knew that whatever was coming, God would provide energy to do it.
The Lock-In was great. It doesn't take a series of incredible events to make something great...It only takes one moment. One beautiful and raw moment to validate anything and everything else that happened. Don't get me wrong, the entire night went well and I'm sure that God touched kids in so many different ways but I want to focus on something that I realized. Maybe that's extremely individualistic, but maybe it's not all bad to share something you've realized.
When the girls and guys separated from the hours of 3am to 7am, we had a Q and A session where the girls could write down any question they had and a few of us college girls would answer them. The questions were expected: all pertaining to relationships and boys. The questions were mostly "What do you do if a boy likes you..." Or "What if you like a boy and..." Then, all of a sudden, the questions became more serious until this question came up: "How do you deal with a broken heart?"
My own heart dropped to the floor as I hear myself emit a chuckle. I remember thinking, "Really, God? Really? Do you think I've had enough time to be able to talk about this?" So, I heard myself volunteer to answer that one. The three other women on the panel, all freshmen and admitting to their happy relationships with their new college boyfriends, looked at me with relief. I took a deep breath and haltingly spoke the words I thought God had put on my heart.
It's been six months in dealing with that type of brokenness. As everyone knows, pains lessens over time but remembering that pain in the first few months was, in itself, painful. It's funny, though, because in the midst of my sleep deprivation as I drove to Starbucks to coax myself to stay awake through my morning shift at the campus post office, I had an epiphany. If the struggle that has been the past 6 months of my life was meant solely for that moment of honesty, where some girl in a crowd of 30-40 heard something that God wanted her to hear, then all of it was worth it. As I realized that, tears came to my eyes. If you had asked me if I would be able to do that a month ago, I would have laughed.
How can there be such contentment in something that's mending? I don't quite understand it. The only phrase that goes through my head when I play last night over in my head is "Glory to God. Glory to God. Glory to God forever."