Joy comes in the morning.

Last Christmas, I left Athens with a heavy heart. My world was crumbling. I had so many walls built up I could not see over them.

I forgot who God was.

I woke up so I could go downtown again.

I wanted so much to be loved that I was giving myself away.

My grandmother was dying.

I was burdened. My heart literally ached when I thought about any of it. So, I kept going. I kept pushing for more until I realized I had nothing more to push for.

A page in my journal that still haunts me reads:

Christmas Eve.

Is love alive?

There are only two or three notes jotted below it.

I was so focused on the fact that I could not find love that I really did believe it was not real. I did not even want love in a romantic sense, but in a devoted friendship. I needed someone without selfish motives to tell me how much I meant.

It is hard for me to put into words the pain that sometimes creeps inside me. It attacks me at random. Nothing I think or pray seems to be enough to quiet it. It is on a mission to search and destroy my happiness. No amount of good words are enough to heal my heart.

I awake feeling broken and fall back to sleep the same.

My capacity for love has been diminished. I just want to be healed. I want the pain gone. I want all my weaknesses that have been exposed to hide again.

And then I read:

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish it's work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." -James 1:2-4

I am supposed to find joy in this?

I am supposed to be happy that I hurt?

But He promises us that in the midst of all our pain, we will be complete.

Don't miss that, friends. Once this trial is over, He promises us we will lack nothing.

He says listen, I know this stinks. I know you hurt. I hate that you hurt, but I promise it works for good.

He knows our hearts are heavy. Living for Him never guaranteed us a pain-free life. Living for Him just guaranteed us hope for the end.

We were not placed here to walk the world unburdened. What good would we be? Who could relate to us? We are here to develop. And how does He choose to develop us? Through testing our faith. Not through a cake walk, not through daisies and sunshine.

Even knowing this, even after writing it, I still feel broken. My heart is still heavy. But the difference in leaving Athens this year and leaving last year is joy. It resides in me with a promise to never abandon, to never forsake. Leaving here ties my stomach in knots. I am anxious and apprehensive about so many things at home. He promises to protect me. I ran away from my problems and He keeps bringing me to the root. It is humbling, really. And my pain is no more significant than another's, but that does not diminish it's existence.

He promised us pain.

But He also promised us tomorrow.

And with tomorrow comes healing, opportunity, freshness.

Tomorrow is mine.