Hope, Progress, & Peace

I took a day trip up to visit Oasis Chapel Rifu Christian Church. I know that means almost nothing to you if you don't have a very detailed map of Japan, but it's about 10 minutes from where the tsunami wiped out entire neighborhoods. I spent the day with Pastor Matsuda learning about the ministries his church and Oasis Life CARE. He took me to a neighborhood that had been completely wiped out by the tsunami. We visited the land plot where Seaside Chapel used to be--and there stands a cross. The cross from the top of the church was found a couple weeks after the tsunami, and it was erected as a memorial and as a sign of hope. Right now, that white cross is one of the only thing standing in the entire area.

It's hope. Hope will come. Hope is coming. Progress will be made. Progress is being made.

I had 2.5 hours on the train each way today. Had lots of time to think and listen.

It's been a rough week on my heart. A heavy week. Despite being on vacation, my heart has hurt and ached and mourned and grieved and wept. It has been a dark 7 days.

Today on the train, He reminded me. Hope will come. Hope is coming. Progress will be made. Progress is being made.

He reminded me of a time not so long ago when I couldn't go to the supermarket alone because being around crowds of strangers made me panic. When I couldn't fall asleep at night. When I couldn't go a day without balling my eyes out. When being left alone was my worst fear. When fear and guilt and pain and remorse engulfed my heart. When I thought the grieving process would never end.

While I've cried a lot these past 7 days, I know crying is okay. Mourning and grieving is okay. But I spent most of the last 7 days by myself wandering through crowded train stations and department store basements--and it's been okay. I've been sleeping in an unfamiliar bed in a crowded hostel in a busy city--and it's been okay. I spent Wednesday morning alone sitting in a giant park--and it's been okay. I'm not where I used to be--progress is being made, and that gives me hope. I won't know the answers to today's questions until I get to heaven, but I felt more at peace today than I did yesterday. More than I would've expected.

As I walked back to the hostel from the train station, God asked me to dance with Him under the moonlight. Like He beckoned me to dance, to worship, to remember who He says He is even in the midst of heartache. I danced in circles on the bridge because He said I still could. It felt right even though life hurts right now. Dancing with God in the moonlight made things feel right. Like He was telling me it was okay to dance, to worship. That nothing in our relationship would change.

Oh what peace is found in hope.