Friday, December 14, 2012

What to say when words are hollow

I'm supposed to be heading out the door to take my two youngest on a lunch and Christmas shopping date.  We've looked forward to this with anticipation, but my heart is no longer in it.  Instead my mind, still reeling from the shooting at Clackamas Mall, is with all those families in Connecticut.

Something changed in me when I became a mother.  Senseless crimes involving children became personal.  I can't fathom walking through such a tragedy as a parent.  My mind can't wrap itself around that kind of horror.  It makes me want to take my family and run for the hills.  Live a life like Heidi and Grandfather tucked away with some nice goats on a rural mountainside.

I have no answers to the whys of such events.  I know my God is faithful, sovereign.  That nothing happens without passing through His loving hands.  But this?  Even this?  In a letter from my kids' principal, he reminded us that God is no less sovereign now than he was this morning when the event occurred, and He will use events like these to draw us nearer to Him.  I needed that reminder.  

My eyes have been reopened to the gift of each moment.  Sometimes we need to be reminded that the petty things which are so adept at raising our ire are of little significance in the big picture.  That sending kids out the door in the morning with a hug and prayer is more important than railing over unfinished homework.  That whispering "I love you" to a spouse is more valuable than nursing hurt feelings.   Treasure what God has given you.


Though the fig tree does not bud

    and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails
    and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen
    and no cattle in the stalls,
 
yet I will rejoice in the Lord,
    I will be joyful in God my Savior.

The Sovereign Lord is my strength;

    he makes my feet like the feet of a deer,
    he enables me to tread on the heights.
Habbakuk 3:17-19 NIV