While the whole world watches Australia burn, we are moved to tears and prayers. Tears for the devastation of land and life; prayers for the preservation and safety of the firefighters and inhabitants; time to ponder what it is like to live through what must feel like hell on earth. Yes, it is a time for tears and prayers, and a time to give thanks that the tears will be dried and the prayers will be answered. And may the rains be on their way.
A fire in Halifax, Nova Scotia, on Tuesday, killed seven children ranging in age from four months to fourteen years. Their father is in life threatening condition and the mother is remarkably unharmed…physically.
Can anyone even fathom the devastation this mother is dealing with?
Tears are not enough to wash away the enormity of this woman’s suffering in the moment and in years to come…her own tears and those of all who mourn with her.
Some will ask where is God in all this.
Along with the rest of us…Jesus wept. (John 11:35)
Peter, Paul, and Mary’s hit song of 1962, “Where Have all the Flowers Gone” came on my music channel today. It brought tears to my eyes realizing that in all these years we still haven’t learned.
We haven’t learned to stop the killing…killing of our fellow human and killing of our environment. We haven’t learned to forgive, or how not to carry a grudge. We haven’t learned to love unconditionally, to pray without ceasing. We haven’t learned to say “I’m sorry” and mean it, nor have we learned that doing nothing to reconcile a situation is the same as promoting war instead of peace.
Most people who write these kinds of songs are thinkers, and in their own way are reaching out to the world through their words. But is the world listening? When will we ever learn, oh, when will we ever learn?
Our people must also learn to engage in good deeds to meet pressing needs, so that they will not be unfruitful. Titus 3:1
When stress is mismanaged it can be a catalyst for disease, disfunction and depression. There were times when I didn’t handle stress too well and it did take its toll on my health.
Chapter Thirty – Writing Through the Rage
I felt a wave of nausea in the pit of my stomach, and realized just how stressed I really was. I wished I could admit myself to a hospital, get a private room, and cry until there wasn’t a tear left in my body. I must write through this, I thought frantically, knowing how close I was to losing it altogether. I drove to a nearby mall, bought a notebook and pen, and sat down with the hot chocolate and tea biscuit.
As I began to write, I noticed the people strolling the mall. An elderly couple walked hand in hand, arms entwined, accentuating their togetherness. It touched my heart. Jerry hardly knew who I was anymore. A teenage boy and girl jostled each other affectionately. Their easy banter reminded me of the many times we had laughed and joked together in the comfort of our relationship. A little boy, about two years old, gave me a twinkling smile as he toddled past, his mother close behind. Jerry and I had raised separate families, but enjoyed the thrill of watching our many grandchildren meld into our lives over the years. Three times I smiled at what I saw, and that was good. I realized in that moment that I always managed to smile through my tears and heartache— that was God……
The Lord is my shepherd…he restores my soul. (Psalm 23:1,3)
Tomorrow – Minding God’s Own Business – A Lesson in Service
My Precious Life 