As a little girl, I was utterly captivated by The Wizard of Oz. The whole concept of it really, from Dorothy’s tumultuous arrival in Munchkin Land and her journey Ozward, during which she encounters challenges and setbacks of all kinds, only to be ameliorated by the forming of three steadfast friendships, all the way through to end, her final triumph and victory after a long and frantic obsession with wanting to go home

But it all began with a girl on a farm, dreaming about what her life might be like over the rainbow. I, too, have wondered about this; most especially when I was very ill and uncertain if I would find myself saying goodbye to the only life I had ever known much sooner than expected.

Though I must confess the idea of dying terrified me at the onset of my illness, and had always been a thought that left me a bit dry-mouthed, through the beautiful and brutal process of surrendering my life into Jesus’s hands, I finally came to know a peace beyond understanding. The anxiety that had riddled me and felt like slow suffocation was suddenly . . . just gone. I didn’t fear death any longer or even the slow process of dying, which had always seemed much scarier. One day I simply set down the bag that held all my fear and worry, and decided not to pick it up again. It really was that simple. And all it cost me was every comfort I had always taken for granted. Some might not consider it an even trade, though now living on the other side of the rainbow - not quite Home, but surely a bit closer - I feel I am in surplus. What I lost was grains of sand compared to what I gained. Jesus brought me face to face with my mortality - forced me to look at it, examine it, even crave death during moments of relentless pain and despair. It’s an irony not lost on me that what He was really doing was teaching me how to live. How to trust Him with each day, each moment, each breath, as few or as many as He might provide.

Years later, becoming a mother, I am often asked to sing Somewhere Over the Rainbow at bedtime. Happy to oblige, I croon my best Judy Garland vibrato over two small heads cradled in my lap. My daughters are still too young to know anything about my season of darkness before they came into this world, though you can be sure I'll be ready to share my experiences when they begin to have their own musings about life over the rainbow; and while I may not be able to promise skies blue or troubles melting like lemon drops, I hope they will find comfort knowing that in times of suffering and chaos, it is Jesus who promises evermore, “that’s where you’ll find Me.”