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Thursday, August 15, 2013

The End of the Rainbow

    A sigh of relief escapes my lips as we drive into the eastern Atlanta
metro area.  The car rumbles heavy with babies and toys and snacks and all
the household goods it can carry.  A heart a tiny bit heavy with the weight
of our decisions.  The first hour of the trip Abby screamed solid.  Begging
to go back to “my house.”  I had a fine moment of parenting.  I was alone
with the three of them so it seemed like a good time for a first… to let
the toddlers each have their own big bag of cheddar sour cream potato
chips!  I am happy to report that the next hour on the road was quiet
except for the sounds of eager crunching.  Then droopy eyelids won and the
little, cheesy, orange fingers finally lay silent across bellies full of
saturated fat.  It’s true that standards do come down a bit by the fourth
child, you know!
  The grey sky begins to drizzle and I squint to see through the blurry
swish of the windshield wipers.  Then out of the corner of my eye, I notice
it.  Quite dazzling to be sure.  A bouquet of colors cascading perfectly
across the dreary heavens.  I think to myself it is the most beautiful
rainbow I have ever seen!  The stoic voice of my friend, the GPS, instructs
me along the winding roads.  As our path twists and turns I am intrigued
because it seems the end of the rainbow is getting closer.
    No one ever actually sees the end of the rainbow, do they?  I marvel
that the very minutes my family is arriving in our new town, there is a
rainbow painted across the sky to greet us.  I don’t think I have even
seen one since Makiah died.  Joy floods in with the memory of thousands of
toes painted in rainbow colors for my sweet daughter on her heaven day.
Then we turn the corner into the neighborhood where we are renting, and
there it is.  The arches of color seem to blend into a yellowish sort of
haze. I catch my breath, and we drive right through.  The end of the
rainbow.
    And I dare to hope.  In miracles.  That maybe this is not coincidence.
That maybe as in ancient days God is giving us a sign of his promise.  A
promise that our family will not see the same flood of destruction that we
have endured.  A sign that we are surely in the right place.  A place of
new beginnings.  A sign that we are in a new season.  One dear friend said
to me that she believed this move would be a new start for my heart.  Her
words have not left me.
    We have been in a season of darkness and pain.  But here to greet us
in this new place is one of the most beautiful of creation’s marvels.
Right here in the very neighborhood we are moving to.  Hope springs up.
Hope that this season will be full of joy and the marvel of God’s promise
of love.  Full of reflections of His glory.  And full of  the whisper of
things yet to come.  Stories yet to be told.  Adventures yet to be had.
The bright future He has planned for all who trust in Him when we round
that last corner.  To the place where no darkness or destruction can flood
our souls.  Only unimaginable light…