Loving Arms

Tonight is the annual DU camp-out for hockey tickets. It's weird to realize that it has been an entire year since I've been a college student. Everything was still so new and overwhelming then, but wonderful and free at the same time. Of course there are still new and overwhelming bits this year (maybe lots of overwhelming parts!), but it definitely feels like a home.

At last year's camp-out I met my friend Andy and hung out with him and his friends almost all night. Now he's one of my best friends!

But that's not what I remember the most about this time last year, what I remember most is the morning after the camp-out.

I'd been having a, well let's just say a difficult time with a family member around this time last year. The problem had spanned throughout the summer, causing a lot of agony, tears, and hurt relationship. Though the problem seemed to have been decently resolved, I received a text Friday night saying it had possibly resurfaced. The pain rushed back, only to be squashed back down as I chose to ignore the emotions until I wasn't around other people.

The next morning I was preparing to make a very awkward and painful phone call, ready to confront the individual. I was beyond nervous, praying that I would be able to calmly and lovingly discuss the issue, and that I wouldn't simply dissolve in anger and tears.

So I sat there, on a bench outside the Richie Center. The September sun beat down, bright and warming, slightly blocked by the small tree's branches above me. It was an absolutely beautiful day, the sort that should be filled with smiling and songs, maybe a little skipping, or just a long walk. It shouldn't have been a teary day. But I sat there under the tree, closed my eyes, and ignored the world. I don' really remember what I prayed, probably just for wisdom and the ability to forgive, to be respectful in my confrontation of someone so much older than me and in a position of authority over me. I don't really know. That's not what matters.

Here's what matters. Here's what made that day, that warm September Saturday about a year ago, so wonderful.

As I sat there, I felt Him, and I heard Him, and I was truly comforted by Him. My eyes closed, curled up in a ball with my arms around my knees, I could hear Jesus simply saying, over and over, "I love you, I'm here for you, everything is going to be okay." Over, and over. I could feel His loving arms wrapped around me, as He told me again, and again that He loved me, and it would be okay.

And it was one of the best, most beautiful days of my life.