The man sitting across from me at Starbucks had a German shepherd lying at his feet. I thought he didn’t notice that I was crying, but then he leaned over and passed me a note. We never actually spoke, but to this day it is my bookmark. I’ll get back to that.

I’m not sure how to explain my new heart. It cringes in the absence of transformation inside of it, and it has peace in the presence of chaos outside of it. It’s simultaneously more healed and more broken every day as its capacity grows. It cares less and less about things that used to mean everything to me, and more and more about things that mean everything to God. This one of the toughest seasons of my life, but it is also one of the most restful, all thanks to the Lord for creating me this new heart.

My old heart was different. It seems like so long ago that I was sitting in an airport on my way to California, reading about the joy I could have in the Lord, and wanting it so badly. I wasn’t opening this incredible gift that is given to me each and every morning–the gift of walking alongside Him and experiencing Him. Instead I let my joy sit in a box while I waited and wondered what God was going to do. And once I arrived at Lake Tahoe, I finally opened the gift. I opened my eyes. I opened my hands. And He showed up.

During the first three weeks of my time there, I experienced some of the highest highs of my life. I saw answered prayers daily, I had several people who were seeking the meaning of life literally walk right up to me, and I saw a man commit his life to Christ at Starbucks. I was given countless opportunities to lead, follow, love, walk alongside, and confess to my brothers and sisters in Christ.

And during the last three weeks, I experienced some of my lowest lows. Most of these lows involved my daily battle to trust God when I got the news that my boyfriend Michael had cancer. I was perplexed by his unwavering faith. I thought my plan for God to make a miracle made the most sense. I was upset when God didn’t grant me this miracle. And finally, I realized I had no other option but to trust God.

How many times had He said “no” to my prayers then ended up showing me how much better His plan was than mine?

How many times had He showed up in my life when I didn’t see it until later?

How many times had He showed His undying love for me? For Michael? For every human?

A bajillion. That’s how many. If you want examples from my life, please ask me. When you serve a limitless God, He does not limit. We are the ones who limit. So for me to think that God would do whatever I ask Him is actually me limiting him. I do not want to follow a God who is only as smart as me.

The desire of my heart is that Michael’s cancer would miraculously disappear. However, an even greater desire of my heart is that other people would come to know and experience God’s love. Although I’m praying every day for a miracle in Michael’s body, I trust that if God’s answer is “no”, it’s because He is doing something so much greater than I could think of. He has the big picture and I don’t. I am limited to here and now. He has the view of infinite before and infinite after. He knows if maybe one doctor will come to know Christ because of Michael’s joy through this. Or how much more powerful His story will be after clinging to his faith and his faith alone this semester.

I am so thankful for Michael’s strength and leadership through this. God knows exactly what we can handle, and let me tell you, Michael has handled this like a warrior from day one. I am forever amazed by him.

That day in Starbucks, this man had no idea what I was going through. He didn’t know any of the fears or that I just found out someone important to me has cancer. But his words were so so right and I think they were a message from God himself:

“Smile. It’s gonna be alright.”