Beautiful and Bright

It’s not every night that’s as beautiful as this one.

It’s been a long day. I’m exhausted in all senses of the term, having worked all day while wrestling with issues concerning me, my future, my plans.

And it’s starting to feel like too much.

I crawl into bed and slip under my covers, pulling my fleece sheets to my chin and letting my soft white comforter envelop me. My head hits the pillow, Beethoven’s piano sonatas playing in my ears, and I finally have a chance to breathe.



My eyes lazily drift to the window next to my bed, and at once I see the stars glisten in the midnight sky, so clear, so breathtaking.

They’re beautiful and bright, and something hits me hard in this moment – something I can barely begin to put into the right words.

These stars were placed in the sky by the hand of God, creating an art so powerful I can’t fathom it – the very same God who placed me on this earth.

And today, as I stumbled through my day, studying, working, and struggling with the feelings of uncertainty, I just wanted to know that everything would be okay. I know how desperately I want assurance, hope, and peace in my turmoil of not knowing what the future holds.

And as I gaze at these stars, this art too vast and beautiful for words, I realize that I want God to write in me what He gifted to these stars –

I want my life to be beautiful and bright.

I’m not completely sure what that looks like for me, as I know my perception is so immeasurably different than God’s. When I look at my phone’s screen in the dark, I call it bright and powerful. When I see skyscrapers, I call them beautiful, breathtaking.

And slowly, slowly, I’m learning to trust that God’s vision of beautiful and bright for my life probably isn’t what I would imagine. When I think I know what I want, I must remember that my view is limited and finite.

He’s the One who made the bright stars, the sun, the moon, the universe. Galaxies upon galaxies did He breathe into place, commanding them into existence, and from eternity past He saw it all.

He existed for infinitely longer than I can fathom, and yet – He planned me.

He imagined me along with the stars, and decided to bring me into the universe with a purpose – a purpose much greater than myself, to know Him and make Him known. And when I say I want a future that’s bright, I don’t totally know what that means.

To be perfectly honest, I don’t have a five-year plan.

I don’t have a list of jobs I want to have, or characteristics I want in a location to live, nor do I have all my priorities as straightened out as they could be.

But I have complete faith that God will lead me. As much as I want a safe, secure, and successful future, bad things do happen to good people, and none of us can prevent that.

I don’t believe God causes us pain or confuses us. But in this sinful and broken world, these things are unavoidable – and the one thing we can do is turn to the stability and hope of God Himself.

He doesn’t promise a life free of hurt, but He does promise His presence every step of the way (Psalm 139:7-10).

He doesn’t promise the easy life, but He does promise His peace (Philippians 4:6-7).

We don’t know what’s coming. But as God promised to Israel thousands of years ago and promises us today – He has a good plan for our lives, even when we can’t always see it.

Jeremiah 29:11
For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.

Even if my views of beautiful and bright differ greatly from His – I think I’m alright with that.

I look at the sky tonight, and all the words that remain are these:

If the vastness of the universe is in the palm of God’s hand, I can trust Him with my future.

And if He can hold these stars, He can hold my heart.

I am learning to truly trust.

And that’s beautiful.

Amanda Beguerie is a college student, a pastor’s kid, and a writer from Massachusetts. She’s a coffee connoisseur, a city enthusiast, and she loves to cook delicious meals, read fantastic books, and learn for the sake of learning. She loves people, loves to laugh, and thrives on the connections she makes in various aspects of her life, including the ones she forms on her blog. Read her writings and connect with Amanda at


Imperfect Yet Beautiful

She wrapped her arms around me and said it was going to be okay. She had no idea why I was crying but she was determined to be with me in my moment of pain.

He told me to take care of myself and not work so hard. He told me to have fun. He would joke with me and make me laugh.

She sat across the table from me, our cups of coffee growing colder as we talked. She was honest with me and it helped me see the situation I was facing more clearly.

He told me I could do this thing called life. He always had the biggest smile for me and a kind word.

Facebook moments can look strong and determined. Blog posts can sound inspired and YouTube videos can appear to be filled with perfection but we are all human beings with cracks in our sidewalks. Sometimes our cracks get filled with pieces of broken glass from shattered bottles, crushed leaves from last fall, and bits of grass from the neighbor's freshly mowed yard. Other times our cracks are the recipients of tiny seeds that sprout beautiful flowers. I'm so grateful that my broken sidewalks have been beautified by friends who have taken the time to plant seeds.

You see, in the end, none of us get where we are on our own.

What Is Your Label?

I do not know who posted the first hashtag but it revolutionized the world. In one moment a labeling system was discovered that I am sure will go down in the history books for our generation. Funny thing is, we lived with the reality of the hashtag long before it came around. That person was (#) funny, that restaurant was (#) amazing, and her life was (#) boring. While the labels we carelessly slap onto the lives and actions of others can be life changing, perhaps the most defining labels are the ones we place on ourselves.

I was THAT kid, the one with her nose in a book, the one who was sitting with the adults at the family get-together instead of playing with the kids. There was nothing sporty or outgoing about who I was. Fast forward and I landed a job at my college's sports center/local YMCA. I would learn to spend my days talking to people, my evenings working out, and my weekends coaching volleyball. I was excited to prove my labels wrong. I would learn that in the end, that is all they ever were - labels. The only power a label has is the power you give it.

What are the labels that you have placed yourself under the power of? Broken? Unworthy? Unloved? Unwanted? Helpless? Hopeless? No matter the severity of the label you can change it. Change starts with taking one step towards your goal. Find your goal and do not let go of it. Be the author of your hashtags not the product of them.
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