Long ago and far away … I ran in the rain with my then roommate Amy. It was the beginning of something amazing and healing.

Summer rains in the Ohio Valley are nothing to laugh at, unless you’re in India or Haiti, but on top of our hill, the winds would whip every raindrop against your skin until the struggles of the day seemed scrubbed away.

That first run could barely be called a run; it was more of a lighthearted jog around campus – enjoying the short-lived relief from June’s heat and humidity. Amy and I continued to jog at night or in the rain and chat and push each other, and then jump in her car and get a frosty to cool down. Even after she left that summer, I ran – to clear my head, to exhaust myself, to relieve stress, to enjoy friends’ company .. but little did I know that nearly two years later I would run that same loop at night, in the rain, to cry and let go and heal.

It had been what I thought was an impossibly difficult year, and I knew going into it that I wasn’t ready. I would encounter the first of several personal challenges for years to come. One year after Amy and I began running, I was asked to lead a team of students on a service trip to Mexico, to where I was born, to where my heart had been molded. I said yes without hesitation. Our leadership group, consisting of students, recent grads, and one character of a TOR friar, spent the next couple of months planning, working, relaxing, and preparing for the future – which for some of us would be unexpected.

That fall, the school decided to install new leadership and the boat that was my trip began to rock .. and leak … and because I thought I was in control, I tried to keep it afloat. Seven years later I still wonder if it was worth it – if I should have said the weight on my shoulders was too much.

Somewhere around the time of the trip, I ran into a friend from the past summer who had changed and faced his own struggles. It broke my heart and I’m still not sure why exactly, other than: that I was faced with the realization that no one is strong enough to handle our harsh world alone. I walked away from him, went to my room, put on my running shoes, and ran into the rain, through the night in search of healing.

To this day I haven’t asked what changed him … I don’t think I have to, because I’ve learned that we all change and part of life is allowing ourselves to be challenged – growing in humility and asking for the grace to stand up and face the next obstacle.

Although the rain outside is without howling winds or fierce cracks of thunder, spring’s showers continue to amaze me as they bring the earth to life, raising flowers from the soil, opening buds on trees, softening the early morning light and promising a future of growth and restoration~