There are only a few things in life that genuinely surprise you. It may come in the form of a party, being laid off from your job, or maybe even a pregnancy. Then there is death.
Maybe the death of someone you know is expected or not. What’s often not expected, and comes as a surprise, is the emotion that immediately thrusts itself into what becomes a non-existential world. It comes in multiple forms, but goes nowhere.
There is emotion that quietly takes its place as a black hole. You are in disbelief at the lack of feeling that exists. Everything you feel is gone, and the world feels small. Really small. Like it doesn’t exist outside of your peripheral.
There is emotion that rudely interrupts. It knocks over everything that you have so carefully constructed: security, clarity, joy. It has no decency and lacks all equanimity.
Both can be all-consuming, but you are still always presented with the proverbial fork on that terrible road you don’t want to be on.
Last weekend, I was informed that one of my ministry partners in Burkina Faso was senselessly killed in a terrorist attack. At first, I was in a black hole. Nothing was coming, except everything. Just slowly. It wasn’t until days later that the black hole altered. It grew guts and gained ground. It pervasively invaded. Everything in me wanted to cry out “encroachment!”.
How is this part of your story?
Why?
Why?
Why!?
I wish that I could tell you about my revelation of some grand resolve. If there is one, I hope it comes soon, because I’m still grappling with the same thing that Habakkuk did. I still don’t understand how Habakkuk went from “I cry out to you, ‘Violence!’ but you do not save.” to the obverse “I stand in awe of your deeds, Lord.”.
I haven’t completed the journey from fear to faith, but I trust the Lord enough to keep taking the risk. At the fork in the road; chose or cherish. I’m not different by simply choosing the Lord. I’m different because I’ve vowed to cherish Him. That’s all I can do right now.
An homage to Mike:
