It Can't Rain Everyday

Today was Harvest Crusade, 2008~!

Ah, kudos to awesome traditions. I can't even remember when the first one was or how we can across knowing about Harvest, but I love going. Not just for the bands or the sermon or the chance to rethink about God's love, but also as a chance to have fun with old friends and new and bring them together.

This year I brought ShimEtty with me. I've always, ALWAYS wanted to bring a friend outside of church to this but never did until now. In the past, I would always sit in those seats thinking, "Man I wish so-so was here! I should have brought that person!" Then I would vow to surely bring someone next year, never to do so (again, until now). They aren't Christian and I didn't want them to feel forced or feel awkward - God knows I know how that feels - but ShimEtty are certainly my closest friends. Sure, I haven't known them as long as ClaSsiLaChen, but we've spent nearly every day together for the last two to three years. They've become nearly permanent fixtures in my life and I can honestly say I will truly, truly miss that one going to UCLA, and not Cal (*shakes fist at certain someone). I hope they got something good out of today. I hope they didn't force themselves to pray, to say those words, to mark that box. I hope they find their own paths, their own reasons, through their own choices.

It would have been awesome if stupid M&M came, but noooooo, they insist on AVOIDING us. I'm not very close to them, but it really would have been nice to see them again.

And here comes what I really wanted to say in this post:

The death of Greg Laurie's son, Christopher.
Talk about tragic. I cried. How painful that must have been. How painful it must be! AND then, they tell us he had a wife and a baby girl. I imagined that she would have trembled and fallen into a heap, sobbing with disbelief. He was only 33. That's about my cousin's age. I shiver at the thought.

How difficult was it for Pastor Laurie to stand there in front of tens of thousands of strangers and talk about his deceased son, only three weeks after the accident. No, I don't suppose he would have considered us strangers. I imagine he considered us friends, family. Perhaps that is how he could keep himself so composed because he looked out into that audience and saw not indifference, but sympathy, compassion, love. He could speak so freely because he saw in each of us a Christopher. He saw his son and his message in us, touch us, resound within us as we all caught a small glimpse into what must have been a spectacular life.

We all stumbled upon a small taste of death today and, hopefully, a large taste of life.

P.O.D.'s lyrics echo through my head. "It can't rain everyday."
No matter how hard or how tiring life can get, it cannot rain forever. One day, the sun will come out and you will have a greater appreciation of the cheery days and times.

I pray that all those who have lost can find peace.


"Reign down, reign down, reign down."