reflective thoughts

the last week has really been a strange one for us. Four different times in about 5 days we received word about people - some we don't know, some who are friends, and then others are quite close to us - who are facing a lot of tough stuff. They are all things that honestly would test my faith and make me ask a lot of hard questions. I have thought a lot over the last few months about what a "normal" life I have had, about how few true hardships and tragedies have come into my life. With those thoughts in the back of my mind, I have really struggled with some of the situations that we are watching people we know go through. How would I react? i pray - just as i am praying for these - that my faith would be pleasing to Him, that any difficulties would only serve to make me more confident in who He is. And yet, I consistently watch people rise over - so victoriously through His power - these tragedies. I am inspired and encouraged by their faith, and pray that if I were to face tragedy, I would respond as they have.

Though I don't really think I am superficial, I also don't think I'm a particularly reflective person, so it was a surprise to me when these words just came to me as i laid in bed last night. As I read over it, it gave some sort of tangibility to the heaviness in my own mind as our friends and those close to us are struggling. So as you read it, don't worry if I'm losing my mind or having a breakdown (because I'm not...I promise!) I just needed an outlet for some of the thoughts that had been swimming around in my brain.


Unabashed,
Tragedy does not need the cover of darkness
to hide his deeds.
He comes and goes
as he likes,
delivering his burdens
and vials of bitter herbs.

A name has been chosen,
a delivery made.
His rapping at the door is felt
far beyond the household
whose doorway he darkens.

In that instant,
a life is gone,
certainty disappears,
dreams vanish,
plans carefully and thoughtfully made
now fall aside
like a yellowed newspaper
left in a forgotten place.

Shock is replaced by grief,
grief clouds faith,
faith asks hard questions.
What-if’s and second guessing
hover around like hungry vultures
looking to feast
on our faith.

But there is One,
One to whom even old man Tragedy
must bow a submissive knee.
He is no stranger to the burdens
Tragedy brings.
And He invites us –
He invites me –
to relinquish,
to give up,
to transfer ownership
of the burden
Tragedy has left.

And we wait.
We wait,
while He works,
while He changes us,
while He clothes our faith
with certainty that seems
much too good
to be true.