It’s 12:44 on a Friday morning. I just finished my homework for the night, and I am exhausted, in every sense of the word, yet I cannot bring myself to sleep. It’s not been a good week for me. I kind of feel like a truck ran me over, turned around, and then came back and ran me over again. Wednesday afternoon, I was in the middle of a personal crisis, and all I could do was sit on the floor of my room, cry, and call my mom (my mom is one of the greatest human beings to ever exist). I’m not going to lie, it made me feel a lot better.
During this week, I’ve thought about why God allows us to have bad experiences. I know that He does not want us to be unhappy, but I also know that we learn more when we are uncomfortable. Let’s say life is a mountain range. If we stay on the peaks of the mountains, eventually we will get dulled to their beauty. But if we spend time walking through the ridges and valleys, we learn to appreciate the view from the top when we reach it. And when we’re walking through those valleys, we can still look up and see the sun shining through the trees, and know that it may be a bad day, and it may be a bad week, but it’s not a bad life.
It’s 1:29 on a Friday morning, and now I am going to sleep.
