On March 13, 2013, my fellow Girl Scouts and I crafted away in Mrs. Tanner’s classroom after a long day at school. Although I’m sure many of us (including myself to some degree) had no clue what was going on, let alone the gravity of such an event, we passively paid attention to the TV in the corner of the room waiting for white smoke.

Growing up, avoiding conflict seemed to be all that peace meant to me, or, maybe better put, peace was the absence of conflict, of fighting, and of violence. Peace was when it looked like everyone was getting along. Peace was when everyone was calm or had a smile on their face, whether that be genuine or not.

There’s a weird beauty in hardship—it’s a rollercoaster ride of hurting, healing, breaking and rebuilding. Obviously, I didn’t choose the battles I’ve experienced, but looking back I can say my hardships have brought many unexpected blessings.

Hope. A word that many of us, including myself, brush past all too easily. On religion tests in middle school and high school, it was not abnormal to be asked to list the theological virtues. I would robotically recall “faith, hope, and love” without thinking any more deeply about what those virtues entailed, implicated, or required. 

To most this just looks like an ordinary classroom, but to me this is Holy Ground. This is a testimony to the faithfulness of God as He perfectly oriented the events of my life to lead me here today.