We live in extraordinary times, don’t we?
As an armchair historian, I’m aware that every period of time is extraordinary in its own right. Nothing is new under the sun, but right now it feels like each day dawns with a new catastrophe. Everything feels unique to this age and insurmountably heavy. Burdensome. Several days ago, a friend was killed in a car accident. That same day I found out a new friend has cancer. One was diagnosed with another terminal disease. I have friends losing their foster children. Friends losing their parents to health problems. Sick children. Financial troubles. In my own life, I’ve relinquished many hopes and notions of how things should be. There is hurt and severed relationships and memories. I see pain, confusion and sin.
I feel it, you feel it. Our culture is wilting and churning and I’m not up to the task. I like to think I am – with all my answers and social diagnosis’ and explanations and all my solutions.
At the end of the day, I am helpless. You are helpless.
But am I really? No.
To be helpless it to admit defeat and I know better than that. So do you.
As a believer, I know that this world is going to offer destruction, emptiness and suffering….in the form of:
But there is that still small voice that meets me, when my head hits the pillow (sometimes in tears):
“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”
Yes. Yes. Yes.
You have overcome everything. That is why I have joy and I wake and can rejoice in all things – in pain and suffering and circumstances that make me cry out because of their injustice. You have your hand on these things and You have overcome. I can not make them work in my mind and I try and try but You overcome and you win and you are the champion of this war-torn, rotting world.
You are the only reason that we wade through the murky water. You are the answer and the deliverance.
You are the overcomer, Lord.