It’s been hard listening to the news about the flooding and tragic loss of life in Texas.
I say “listening” on purpose-the images are too painful for this mama to see.
I don’t have to imagine what desperate hope was still burning in parents’ hearts in the early hours and days as they waited, waited, waited to find out upon which side of that awful line they would land.
Would they be the lucky ones who got to take their children home or would they be the forsaken, planning a funeral for a too-small body of their beloved whose life had only just begun?
Even before the count was tallied folks were weighing in with opinions and pointing fingers and posturing in front of their pet political or social position using these poor people as props without their permission.
Worse yet, in my view, are the outsiders offering what they undoubtedly believe, are “reasons” for the tragedy-trying to spin sense out of the senseless and urging those whose lives have literally been tossed upside down to adopt a philosophical view and find the blessing in the bruising.
I can’t tell you the hours I spend speaking with parents who have had to untangle the web of well-meaning but misguided advice and spiritual counsel after burying a child. Their hearts are not only burdened by loss but by other people’s ideas about how they should be processing it.
I understand that humans are wired for meaning making. I know people feel compelled to apologize for God, to speak for Him and to create an understandable narrative of what He may or may not be doing in the world.
But Scripture is clear:
My intentions are not always yours,
and I do not go about things as you do.
My thoughts and My ways are above and beyond you,
just as heaven is far from your reach here on earth.Isaiah 55: 8-9 VOICE
So this is my offering as we mourn out loud for lives lost and for those who have, like us, been thrust into a life they did not choose:
LAMENT FOR TEXAS
O, LORD! Where were You when the waters rose in the dark? Why didn’t You send armies of angels to guide these little ones to safety? Why were children ripped from the arms of their parents as they struggled in the black night against forces too strong for even their determined grasp?
My heart is shattered.
My own grief and fear has broken out of the heavy-lidded chest where I’ve learned to keep it locked away so I can function in a world where things like this happen over and over and over.
I won’t pretend that this is good. I won’t plaster pretty words across devastation.
I can only lean into what I know is true. I can only hold on to the hope that has led my heart back to light and life after my own dark day of tragic loss.
You are God.
And though sin has marred your good, good creation,
You are still good.
In Your mercy and by Your power You will weave what the enemy intends for evil into the eternal story You are writing for the display of Your glory. The black threads of loss will be part of it.
Death is awful.
It is the last enemy to be conquered.
Until then, I wait for Your redemption.
I trust in Your love.
thelifeididntchoose 