mining for gold

at the request of the misisonaries who took over the project of translation in our village when we left, i'm re-visiting memories of the tsunami that hit the village in '98, and writing about how the visit back to PNG the following year has impacted my life. unexpectedly hard. realizing that though the story of redemption is painted in bright colors of suffering, the picture being created is gorgeous. praying for the strenght to embrace the colors, and to let the story unfold. so glad i'm not the author. thankful for the sweet prayer of a sweet friend as i head back in. delving into heaviness knowing that there is gold here.