I remember I was 14 the first time I actually started to pay

attention to the gift that had been before my eyes for such

a long time. I would sit on the roof of my house and watch

the sun disappear behind the cities each night. Each night

was different. Sometimes the wind softly blew, making the

leaves of the trees rustle and the chimes from the playground

sing softly. Other times everything was completely still, but

the sun made up for the lack of music as it put on a glorious

show all its own. Dashes of purple and pink would interweave

with streaks of orange and splashes of light blue, and, in the

middle of it all, the sun told the story of a majesty and beauty

that I yearned to know better.

Why did I not notice that much beauty until 14?

Because until 14, I never had to rely on the Creator of that

beauty. In one year, everything I knew to be true was challenged.

The things that I held most dear, that I relied on for strength and

comfort, was taken away. But God, through each sunset,

reminded me of His faithfulness. Because each night was

unique - different; not what you would expect.

And even though it was unexpected, it was beautiful.