One year ago today, we woke up to the reality that would rock the next season of our lives: our home had been destroyed by a tornado. 

We had a 9 month old little girl, and the walls of our bedrooms had been ripped off. 

But we weren’t there. 

We weren’t there. 

When our friend called to give us the news, I couldn’t stop crying. I was sitting on a cold, tile bathroom floor while my baby slept in the next room. I couldn’t stop crying because I was more thankful than I had ever known how to be. 

I knew we had a long road to walk ahead (and it has indeed been long). I knew we would be saying goodbye to many of our earthly possessions. I knew that walking into the place we had brought our daughter home from the hospital to would never be the same. But I couldn’t quite feel the heaviness of any of that because I was so blinded by God’s faithfulness. 

That morning, He gave me a glimpse into His beautiful orchestration. The reason we weren’t there that night isn’t so simple. It isn’t a short or easy story. It is hard and ugly and had me baffled as to why He might allow us to go through something like that. But He showed us that morning—He showed us very clearly—and it changed the way I think of His plans. 

You see, He saw the tornado long before I did. He was with us in the aftermath while He was with us in the build up. I saw with my eyes and with my heart exactly why He did what He did.

He showed us that day, but He doesn’t always. 

So here’s the question I posed to myself last March 3 and the question I want to ask every day from here on out: Is His faithfulness the same when He shows us the outcomes of His will as it is when we never get to see it?

Is He still as good when the story doesn’t have a miraculous ending?

What about when I wonder why the tornado ever had to happen in the first place? Why did we even have to be saved from anything?

Is He still good? Is He still faithful? Is He still worthy of my worship?

One year later, we are still wading through the aftermath of last March 3rd. 

Ten days after that tornado ripped into our lives, the world shut down. We became isolated from our family and friends in one of the hardest seasons we’ve faced. The process of repairing our very broken home has been long, arduous, and inconveniently timed. I’ve spent lots more days in the floor in tears, not from thankfulness, but from frustration at the mountain that is insurance. 

One year later—one heavy, hard year later—He is the same God. His goodness is the same. His faithfulness is the same. 

Though my heart has wavered, and my faith has been stretched, He hasn’t changed at all. He hasn’t wavered even an inch. He is still holding all things together. 

One year later, I am waking up to this unchanging reality that remains in every season of my life: My life is being held by the Almighty.

But we weren’t there. 

We weren’t there. 

When our friend called to give us the news, I couldn’t stop crying. I was sitting on a cold, tile bathroom floor while my baby slept in the next room. I couldn’t stop crying because I was more thankful than I had ever known how to be. 

I knew we had a long road to walk ahead (and it has indeed been long). I knew we would be saying goodbye to many of our earthly possessions. I knew that walking into the place we had brought our daughter home from the hospital to would never be the same. But I couldn’t quite feel the heaviness of any of that because I was so blinded by God’s faithfulness. 

Than morning, He gave me a glimpse into His beautiful orchestration. The reason we weren’t there that night isn’t so simple. It isn’t a short or easy story. It is hard and ugly and had me baffled as to why He might allow us to go through something like that. But He showed us that morning—He showed us very clearly—and it changed the way I think of His plans. 

You see, He saw the tornado long before I did. He was with us in the aftermath while He was with us in the build up. I saw with my eyes and with my heart exactly why He did what He did.

He showed us that day, but He doesn’t always. 

So here’s the question i posed to myself last March 3 and the question I want to ask every day from here on out: is His faithfulness the same when He shows us the outcomes of His will as it is when we never get to see it?

Is He still as good when the story doesn’t have a miraculous ending?

What about when I wonder why the tornado ever had to happen in the first place? Why did we even have to be saved from anything?

Is He still good? Is He still faithful? Is He still worthy of my worship?

One year later, we are still wading through the aftermath of last March 3rd. 

Ten days after that tornado ripped into our lives, the world shut down. We became isolated from our family and friends in one of the hardest seasons we’ve faced. The process of repairing our very broken home has been long, arduous, and inconveniently timed. I’ve spent lots more days in the floor in tears, not from thankfulness, but from frustration at the mountain that is insurance. 

One year later—one heavy, hard year later—He is the same God. His goodness is the same. His faithfulness is the same. 

Though my heart has wavered, and my faith has been stretched, He hasn’t changed at all. He hasn’t wavered even an inch. He is still holding all things together. 

One year ago today, we woke up to the reality that would rock the next season of our lives: Our home had been destroyed by a tornado. 

One year later, I am waking up to this unchanging reality that remains in every season of my life: My life is being held by the Almighty.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him. And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together. (Colossians 1:15–17 ESV)

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