The sun was shining, the air fresh, the view clear and the wind crisp. If this is Oregon weather, I’m buying a summer home. I simply love the trees, mountains, sky and rolling hills.

I spent 4th of July Eve with my sweet friend, Lauren Reavely. I have come to adore her deep heart, thoughtful eyes, soft curls, eager laughter and passion for life. Lauren and I explored Portland coffee shops, bought exotic fruits, baked a cake, ate on the deck and talked about life and Jesus. The entire Reavely family is full of life, wisdom and creativity; I thoroughly enjoyed my time with them!

While I love 4th of July in Richmond, I was excited to experience it somewhere else. And Oregon was a great choice! We celebrated Adam McDaniel’s graduation, saw old friends, hung out on an airstrip with a vintage plane, drove country backroads, explored Snapchat, played with sparklers and did instant devos during fireworks. I am so grateful for this fun, gospel-centered, loving group of friends here!

One event in the day was unexpected, both in experience and in meaning. Three years ago the incredible Sono Harris passed away on the 4th of July. I’ve met and known various members of the Harris family over the years, and Sono has long been a woman I admired. We stood at her grave yesterday in a simple country cemetery with the summer sun setting over the hill. Her husband, Gregg, has already purchased his headstone and between the two granite slabs these lyrics were inscribed:

It is not death to die
To leave this weary road
And join the saints who dwell on high
Who’ve found their home with God

O Jesus, conquering the grave
Your precious blood has power to save
Those who trust in You will in Your mercy find
That is is not death to die

I stood there, listening as those who knew Sono talked about her quick wit, her love for the gospel, and her passionate prayers for her children. They talked about fireworks celebrating her independence day, the day she was freed from illness and pain so that she could rejoice in fullness with the Savior in heaven. These kinds of “victory” days are  bittersweet because no matter how free they are, we will always have a void that is never filled and a pain that is never healed.

And so the 4th of July grows in meaning for me. I honor the lives of our forefathers who built this great nation. I honor the lives of the men and women in uniform who protect us every day. I honor the legacies of moms, dads, sons, daughters and friends who have gone before us in a blaze of glory, reminding us that Jesus is our life and heaven is our home.

Our independence — whether from the tyranny of sin, governments or sickness — is a mark of mercy given to us by the Father. Praise God for all the freedoms I celebrate today. I am truly among the extravagantly blessed.