Imma tell you a story

Late last week we had a massive late afternoon rainstorm. The wind roared through the trees and I sat with the kids in the living room and watched the glass on our sliding door bend inward ever so slightly. That was interesting. But after the storm passed and the sun was setting, my neighbor texted to tell me there was a massive rainbow outside. (I love text messaging. But that's another story.)


And yea verily, there was.

There have been a few instances in my life when I've been anxious or worried about something, and in the midst of my angst, I'll look up and see a rainbow. And in that moment, it feels like it's just for me. Like God's whispering, "Hey--I got your back. It's all going to be fine."

Does that sound silly? It's okay if it does.

One instance of this that really sticks out in my mind happened while we were still living in Dallas. We'd just made the decision to sell pretty much everything we owned and move to Australia. (Where we'd never been.) To help start a church. (Which we'd never done before.)

I haven't told y'all much about that whole process, but it was a wild time for us. Ava was just 15 or 16 months old, and in the five months from when we made the decision to when we moved, we found out we were pregnant again, gave away or sold most of our furniture, shipped a bunch of stuff to Sydney, lived with both of our parents in California and Florida, and generally had a nervous breakdown. (Well, I did, anyway.) Of the two of us, I am the stressy one. You probably guessed that.

Have I mentioned that I don't particularly enjoy change? It was a hectic time. Cough. To say the least.

So, one day shortly after the decision was made, I'd driven up to see Jason at the office. We were talking over logistical stuff for the move, prioritizing what needed to be done first, talking about finances, etc.

I get a little stabby when I have to talk about logistical stuff. I'm just not very good at it and it makes me anxious. So I was stressy and stabby. (If I ever have twin girls, should I name them that?)

I left the office to drive home. I buckled little Ava into her car seat, and pulled out into late afternoon traffic. I was looking at the road of course, but what I was seeing was my life changing in nearly every way I could think of. I was thinking of all that would need to happen in the months to come and wondering how, how, how in the world it all would. I know that people have moved their families overseas--it happens all the time. But I'd never done it, and I was freaked out.

Then I made a left turn and as I did, looked up and saw a huge rainbow in the sky above me. It was striking and beautiful and my jaw dropped when I saw it. And it's so hard to articulate without it sounding like I think God engineered the weather patterns of North Texas that day solely for me. But in that moment, I thought, That rainbow is for me. Like God was saying, "Look I can do this without even trying. Do you think I can't help you and make your way clear?" He was bragging a little, I think, but He can do that. Being God and all.

It was kind of a moment for me. Like a dollop of stillness dropped right into my hand-wringing, anxious, stabby soul. My hunched shoulders relaxed and I smiled a little. All my worries didn't magically disappear or anything. But I was reminded--powerfully--that I was not left on my own to figure everything out.

Those kind of moments are hard to quantify, or explain in a A+B=C way. Like, stress+rainbow=God loves Amy. Say what? I can't show you a formula on a whiteboard that empirically proves I love my kids. But I do. I just do, and I know that I do. So whether or not it makes sense to anyone else, that rainbow made sense to me.

And now when I see a rainbow, it reminds me of that crazy-making season of our lives. (And incidentally, that baby-making season of our lives.) It reminds me, even if only for a moment that, see? It all worked out. Not perfectly, not without angst. Not exactly how I would have planned it to. But it worked out.

And I remember all that, and I resolve again not to stress too much or stab anyone.

P.S. I am a firm believer that God will give you your own rainbow too. Or maybe even a pony. But probably not a rainbow pony. I don't think.