Claratin and Kindness

Installment Two: (like five years later... sorry I'm so bad at this) Pony.
Yes, my second installment is about Pony, Montana. Contrary to popular belief, it exists and is not quite as lame as its title betrays it to be. The connotation of it is a pleasant one, but the only cognate between the location and it's attributes are found in it being little. Like tiny. Granted, this 'town' has a post office, but other than that it resembles nothing of a horse.

So, what then, was the appeal, the draw, the sanity that would take me to a place like Pony? My best friend Megan. I spent the weekend visiting where she grew up, where she works, and where she is spending the summer. The place is beautiful and even my pictures betray its exquisite creation. It rocked because we went camping in the middle of it all. It sucked because for the first time in my life I decided to have allergies.
Okay, Claratin, Benadryl, Walgreens... It's all rubbish. I took like five of everything and the only relief I felt was this funky anti-histamine drunkenness that made it dangerously impossible to roast marshmallows. Then when I decided to retire to the tent, I discovered we planted it on like a 50 degree slope so all my sinuses were tragically impaled because my snot ran all the way to the back of my brain. Miserable is hardly the adjective.
In the morning I was slightly coherent enough to have an incredible conversation with Megan's mentor and family friend Krystal. We discussed politics, drinking, pregnancy and evangelism. This woman carried a heart for God like none other, and she reminded me that it is the Kindness of God that leads us to repentance. Beautiful.
For the first time over those first 24 congested hours I looked around to discover Grace. Visible to the eye in the simple complexity of the flowers, the gentle anthem of the stream and the glorious location of Pony Montana. God is so kind. Even when we have allergies.