Every now and then, I click the ‘drafts’ tab on my “ALL POSTS” page out of a desire to diminish the disturbing number of posts begun and never completed.
My drafts folder is a graveyard of thoughts. Thoughts that I never had the time to flesh out or thoughts that I lacked the discipline to fully birth. And sometimes among the words that never made it – I find a draft that I don’t even remember writing, but that still feels so achingly familiar to me somehow.
I want to speak now. I want to speak while the chaos and confusion is breaking through our apathy and waking us up to the reality that something is wrong. I want to speak and add my voice to the cries that are rising up around me.
I want to speak now. But what is there to say?
Trapped in this body of pale white skin, what can my breaking heart say that will help? That I understand? That I know how it feels? Obviously not. I feel pathetic even typing those questions on this page. Still, I have buried a brother who was shot down because of similar reasons. I have held his weeping wife and will help raise his son. And I have seen the glory of God rise up from spilled blood more than once.
Well. It sure has been a week.
This past weekend I witnessed God move in a miraculous way. I guess I thought that there would be enough speed coming down from that mountain top experience to catapult me up the next hill.
I’ve been reading 1 Kings 19. In chapter 18, Elijah literally calls down fire from Heaven. What comes next? Elijah refuses to do what God asks of him. In a tone that I read as ‘pouty’, Elijah explains to God (as if God doesn’t know) that even though Elijah has been faithful, people are still trying to kill him.
So, he’s going to hide in a cave for a little while.
The LORD our God be with us, as he was with our fathers. May he not leave us or forsake us, that he may incline our hearts to him, to walk in all his ways and to keep his commandments, his statutes, and his rules, which he commanded our fathers. (1 Kings 8:57-58 ESV)
What a prayer. I love it. It’s such a picture of the glorious reversal of the Gospel.
What a week. What a month. What a decade.
The theme of the past ten years of my life has been loss. Losing relationships, losing dreams, losing parents, losing friends, losing health. And this isn’t a sad post, because in every loss there has been great gain. Loss has hollowed out channels in my heart for grace to flood in with truth and leave in its wake new life.
Loss has forced me to hold up the people and the things I love with open hands and offer them to the Person I love most. Sometimes I have sacrificed them to Him with joy and peace, and sometimes its felt like they were torn from my clenched hands.