I have just ended a most unforgettable week. A week that brought about a hurricane of emotions and experiences. A week I just assume to wake up tomorrow morning and discover never existed at all, except in my dreams. During this week, I have tasted the injustice of a premature death. It is incredibly bitter. I have experienced the loss of a loved one,
and while I know it’s inevitable, I just assume not ever experience it
again. I have been lifted up by the hands
of hope and faith, and while they both remain, I am still faced with an outcome
that seems most undesirable. I have
known what it is to weep with those who can do nothing but weep. And while I hope that was a comfort to those
who most needed it, it’s not the kind of comfort I want to be in the habit of
giving. I have witnessed my children
losing someone dear and have not had the capacity to sufficiently answer their
questions or deal with their grief. This
concerns me deeply as a father. I have
known exhaustion of an unfamiliar kind – the kind that comes from serving others
over an extended period of time in their moment of need – and while I could not
envision a situation where I wouldn’t step in and do the same all over again, I
hated that the need was so dire. I also
learned what it’s like to swallow your emotions and pretend to be strong, only
to have them resurface in moments of quiet retreat. I have also tasted the sweetness of worship in
the midst of sorrow. It’s as refreshing
as any cold spring on a hot summer’s day.
Thanks to my sister and her amazing family, I know the grittiness of a
faith that can truly say, “no matter what, Lord, I will still trust in You!” Having witnessed such a rare sight, I am
humbled. I have heard those I love boldly
pledge an allegiance and love for the Lamb of God that supersedes man’s natural
desire to hold tightly to the things of this world. By this I am encouraged and now see that the
good news of Jesus Christ is an unquenchable fire that will one day consume the
whole Earth. I have seen a community
respond to tragedy, crossing every racial, social and denominational line, and
this makes me happy. I have experienced
the mystery of knowing someone, without fully knowing who they are until they have
been taken away. I have learned of the
greatness of my nephew, whom I have loved dearly for 15 years, from those who
recognized his true greatness in a much shorter period of time.
This week, I saw the passing of a comet. I have lived under its light for the past 15
years, and while I had every opportunity to bask in its glow, I only caught
glimpses of it from time to time. Now
the comet is gone, and I am deeply troubled by its passing. Nevertheless, I am grateful to have had the
opportunity to see it – if only for a moment.
In my state of heightened sensitivity, I now suspect that I’m surrounded
by comets. This makes me want to
recognize their beauty while their light is still with me. God give me courage to live and love as
freely as the one we’ve lost.
