Deep Waters

I don’t like swimming in bodies of water where the bottom is not visible. You will not see me jumping into the middle of a lake..or off the end of the boat no matter how hot I am…or how badly I have to pee.

Deep waters are simply too dark and deep. No one knows what lurks below the surface. Nothing you can tell me will remove the niggling fear that a large lake creature might see me as a tasty morsel. Other deep waters are equally terrifying. The deep waters of distress. Deep waters of strife. Deep waters of tears echoing sadness, grief, and loss. Deep waters of broken dreams.

Last week, I desperately wanted to connect with each of my kids. I wanted Lydia home immediately. I wanted to hug her, hold her and tell her that she was safe. She likely has no idea about the tragedy in Abbotsford. The senseless actions that have stolen the dreams held so close by the families of the victims. A lot of conversations have happened since hearing the devastating news about how to “better protect” our young people… as if locked doors, security cameras, and metal detectors, would afford us this peace of mind.

We cannot protect against evil intentions, we may be able to take steps towards protecting our schools,  and our young people, but we, definitely, can guard our hearts.

Neighbors and family members are swimming in these deep, dark waters of distress.

There is tremendous fear, vicarious trauma, and a sense of hopelessness lurking. How do we guard ourselves against the deep waters of uncertainty that can send us spiraling further into despair?

I had the privilege of joining in on a service held in South Abbotsford in celebration of a life lived large that ended far too soon. Unsurprising was the grief, but right in the middle of the grief was this settled sense of hope.

Hope.

There was a confident hope-filled assurance that the life lived mattered more than how the life ended.  The tragic ending happened at lightning speed compared to the 13 years of impact the public never witnessed.

The answer may be in that word: HOPE.

Hope for eternity.

Hope for healing.

Hope for a different ending.

Unwavering hope that cries out that, although, we don’t know why bad things happen to good people, the Father sees us in our distress. I witnessed young men and women, parents and staff worship through their pain. Calling out to the ONE who they trust to walk them down into this valley never leaving their sides. The valley will be deep and dark. If you know grief, you are intimately connected to these dark, desert valleys. Times of unquenching sorrow.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage;
rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.
and being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death-even death on a cross!
Phil 2: 6-8

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

As believers, we have someone with us who is familiar with this sorrow and well acquainted with heartache, pain, loneliness and grief. If you have met him, you would have noticed the beauty, I observed in South Abby on Friday.

It was comforting and heart wrenching, a painfully beautiful expression of love. Excruciating heartache is being healed in community. Assurance and trust that this isn’t the end.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

For He grew up before Him lie a tender shoot, and like a shoot out of parched ground;  
He has no stately form or majesty that we should look upon Him, nor appearance that we should be attracted to Him.
He was despised and forsaken of men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and like on from whom men hid their face He was despised and we did not esteem Him. Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering,…
Isaiah 53: 2-4

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Reminded me that I know the end of the story.

My unwavering hope comes from how the story ends…the enemy doesn’t win.

Period.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s