When the Darkness Surrounds

March 22, 2016

The first alerts of the morning were of terror. More attacks. More deaths. More wounded innocents. More suicide bombers successful in their missions.

More confusion.

More grief.

More darkness.

More hurt.

My heart is heavy. My spirit feels weak. Lord, why? Is this really your will?

And then I'm struck by the calendar dates before me. It's Holy Week. Friday is drawing near. The day that our Savior died on a cross is just three sleeps away. It's a day that is always heavy, always poignant, always powerful.

I think back to that day. That first Friday.

I think of all the confusion.

I think of all the grief.

I think of the all-encompassing darkness that fell.

I think of the horrible, unimaginable, bone-breaking, torturous hurt.

My heart is again heavy, my spirit is again weak, but this time, it's Jesus Himself asking, Lord, is this really Your will? Could you take this cup from me?

But it was His will. And it didn't make sense at the time-- none of it did. This Man was innocent, they could find nothing wrong, yet the people yelled to crucify him! anyway.

These Belgian people were innocent, too, yet death and tragedy still came.

There is nothing new under the sun. (Ecclesiastes 1:9) It's a hard truth, but I find a bit of comfort in it today. What I'm feeling is not new. The heaviness I feel has been felt since the very beginning of humanity. I'm not alone in it. Even Jesus knew pain, even He felt grief, even He lived among the confusion and the grief and the brokenness of this fallen world to experience what we experience.

Today is hard.

Good Friday is hard.

These days are heavy and my soul feels weary and I struggle to see the light through all the chaos and noise and breaking news... but I know it's coming.

I know that Sunday is coming.

I know that there is victory over death.

I know that there is hope for all our weariness.

I know that there is light that dispels all darkness.

I know that there is eternal life full of glory awaiting us, that there is a salvation offered to us from the brokenness and pain of our world.

I know that He knows.

I know that He cares.

I know that He heals, restores, redeems, comforts, sees, abides, loves, saves.

I know He is good, even still. This is not the end of our story.